AN: Afraid I'm going to miss the "Mrs. Holmes" update this week; serious lack of time due to school and other activities. So that's one more week to get your questions in!
Worry
Ann Marie sat up when her husband pushed open the bedroom door. He looked haggard and tired. "Mycroft..." She slipped out of the bed, approaching him. "Are you..."
"I am fine," he murmured, brushing her off but not resisting when she touched his face. "I'm simply not used to seeing Sherlock so... still. He was sedated, and Dr. Watson says the wound will likely heal quickly, but..."
"But he is your brother, and you worry," she finished for him, withdrawing her touch as he went to the bathroom to change, an obvious sign that sleep would follow immediately. She felt a small pang of disappointment, but knew this was much more important than her hormonal urges.
When Mycroft returned and settled next to her, he blinked when she moved closer to him, holding onto him. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, hiding his face in her golden hair. He knew a mere knife could not stop his brother for long, and yet he accepted his worry as a necessary human emotion.
It felt much better to worry with her in his arms than to worry in solitude, as he had done so many times before.