Greg watched as Mycroft stared at the small plate of food in front of him with apprehension. "Come on, My, you need to eat something. When was the last time you ate? Last night?" Mycroft looked guiltily away which was odd to him, why would he be guilty about the one thing he'd been doing right? But to avoid any further questions along that line Mycroft started eating like he was told to. Greg observed in deep concern as Mycroft took small nibbles from around the toast, gagging severely and coughing.
He rubbed the taller man's back soothingly "Oh My, what've you done do yourself?" He whispered in a sad voice. Boecause this all truly felt like a tragedy and the thought that Greg himself might have something to do with it made him feel something horrible he couldn't even name.
"Hey, it's okay. Just eat half for now, yeah? Only half, that's all I'll make you eat. Here." He handed Mycroft a glass of water which he gratefully accepted and drank slowly, trying to subside the gagging. After a moments consideration Greg started to eat the other piece of toast he'd told Mycroft he didn't need to eat. There was a clear look of relief on Mycroft's face whether that was from confirmation he didn't have to eat it or the fact he wasn't the only one eating Greg wasn't sure but he was sure he was glad Mycroft looked a little better.
"So." Greg said, slapping his hands down on his thighs. Mycroft had finished eating and now it was time to talk, no matter how much they both felt like running away from this as fast as they could. He'd ran away from his feelings already and the next he'd seen of Mycroft was the man an emotional wreck alone in the dark with a knife. Greg knew this had to be good but he just didn't know what to say. He took a deep breath, something was better than nothing. Start simple. Make this simple but affective.
"Okay I'll ask a question then you. We both answer them before we leave this room even if we don't at the time because we aren't comfortable. I'm done playing these games it'll only end badly. You need someone to know it all and no one else seems to be standing up to the roll but it'd be my honour, my pleasure. You understand?" Greg asked, trying to keep a soft but firm tone and to take the lead instead of crumbling like he felt like doing. Mycroft nodded "I do."
"Good. Okay." Greg took a deep breath. Come on, he had to do this before he lost his courage. "Do you want to start?" Mycroft paused before nodding "How did you get into my house?" Greg half laughed "Oh yeah. Sorry about that I was a bit desperate though. I climbed from the tree in your yard onto the pipes then climbed up from the window sill to the balcony, picked the lock and came down your stairs and into the kitchen."
Mycroft blinked in surprise "You…?" He shook his head "Never mind, your question?" "Why aren't you eating?" Greg asked, hoping he wasn't being too forward "Several reasons. But the main message being I'm fat so I'm dieting." Greg sighed, this was going to be hard "First of all, you can't just say 'several reasons', elaborate. Secondly, you are not fat, Mycroft, you're too skinny. You're not anorexic, thank fuck for that, but you're too skinny, you look ill." Mycroft looked down with a frown "I-I look ill because I eat too much. I'm doing well with the diet, though, I just need to continue…" "No!" Greg said sharply, a hand going to grab Mycroft's arm in desperation causing the younger to jump and look up at him apprehensively.
Greg loosened his grip but kept holding on "Mycroft, you're too skinny and weak to be on a diet right now and something tells me you don't mean a normal one either. When was the last time you ate something?" "I haven't asked a question yet, Gregory!" Mycroft protested, Greg nodding in agreement "Yes, sorry. You haven't finished answering mine yet. Sorry, I won't disrupt you this time. Just answer in full. What'd you mean by 'several reasons'?"
Mycroft took a shaky breath "Nothing important, don't you go making a big deal about every little thing I say. I just… I don't deserve the food. It makes me feel ill the fact that it's being wasted on me. Because others need it more, because I don't deserve it, because… I don't know. And it's also an improvement I can make about myself, it was the easiest to start with. And I feel embarrassed always being the fat one, the greedy one. But that's in my control and I've decided to try change it. Also it… it gives me something to do. A mission, an aim, a purpose."
Greg listened silently, fighting the urge to jump in and contradict the other, to pull him into his arms and never let go, to show him he was there. "Oh Mycroft…" Greg sighed, unable to help himself from pulling the taller man into a tint hug "Don't you ever say you're not worth it. Don't say such horrible things about yourself and don't you believe them. I'm here for you now, Mycroft. I'm sorry it's taken me so long. By no means am I gonna stand by and let you destroy your body like this, I'm going to help you whether you let me or not."
