Mycroft awoke early the next morning as he did every day and before he'd even opened his eyes a smile had settled on her face; he was a husband now. Pushing sleep aside he sat up only to find the bed empty and cold beside him, the pillow topped with a small envelope. Agony surged through him, like an ice pick to the heart, cold and malicious. His wife was gone and they'd not even been married a full day.

With a glance to the master bath just to confirm to his desperate mind that she was indeed not there, he picked up the note left behind on Artemis' pillow. He took a calming breath before he opened the envelope and started to read. Inside his genius mind he already knew why she'd left but still he needed to see the words.

Dear British,

I left in the middle of the night because I knew if I waited for you to wake then you'd try to talk me into staying a little while longer. We both know that to be true and I didn't want this to be harder for you than it needed to be.

You made me promise to come back to you but you never mentioned it would have to be alive. Even if you had you are Mycroft Holmes and too smart to think that promise could truly ever be enforced. I will of course try my best to come home to you, but please prepare yourself for if I am forced to break my promise.

If I do not survive I have a request to make of you. If I die I ask that you like to Lysander and Galahad and tell them I love them. I am incapable of loving anything or anyone other than you and so far that has proven correct. The boys don't need to know that though and with my slowly developing ability to want things I have learnt I want to love our sons. So please, Mycroft, lie to them and say their mama loves them very much.

As for you, you are my husband now and I do love you. You took a broken shell and shoved her soul back inside. I will always be grateful to you for that, British.

I leave you my wedding and engagement rings for two reasons, that I know you will understand. The first is that where I am going they will be conspicuous and I have no desire to lose them. The second is so you can imagine returning them to my finger when I return.

With love, Artemis

For a great many moments he sat unmoving in bed, the sheets gathered around his naked waist while blue eyes raked over the letter a good three more times. Artemis' had left him for a good reason, a reason they'd discussed but that didn't make him feel any better about the cold half of bed next to him.

~X~

Three weeks, twenty-one days Artemis had been gone and in that time Holmes the elder hadn't received any communication from his new wife. It was his own fault, he should have specified he wanted regular correspondence from her. The auburn-haired man couldn't help but wonder if this was how Doctor Watson had felt when his own wife vanished simply to protect him.

Mycroft had been alarmingly more grouchy as of late due to Artemis' absence and Anthea had been forced to calm him down more than once. Even though he had the boys – who now had a fully vetted former SAS nanny who was more of a bodyguard with a paternal side – Mycroft could feel the loneliness creeping back in to his soul. Though Sander didn't ask with voice or sign Mycroft could see the question of where Artemis was and when she'd come back emblazoned in his blue orbs. Another thought which often danced around the government worker's brain was if Sander called Artemis 'mama' inside his head or even 'mutter', but Mycroft couldn't bring himself to ask.

He'd been in another day of endless meetings and had endured just about enough of Sir Percy Statham for one day, the man – or perhaps Neanderthal would have been a better description – was a complete and total asshole, then there was this new liaison from the French embassy who was even worse. Gabriel Toussaint was lucky Mycroft wasn't a violent man because otherwise he'd have had his face smashed into the table by now; two and a half months he'd been with the French embassy and the entire time he'd been aggravating Myc to a level even Artemis had noticed. Toussaint was little more than a glorified middle man but through the entire meeting he'd acted as though he were a damn king; kept making demands left and right.

"Say what you will Mister Toussaint, but at the end of the day you are nothing but an overreaching intermediary, so kindly stop acting as though have any real power here and allow us to get on with the job at hand." The auburn-haired man sighed.

The Frenchman's eye twitched. "Well now, aren't you good at stringing words together, but you haven't got your slut around to protect you, now have you, pussy."

Toussaint smirked along with Statham but Mycroft snapped. He'd been awake for almost sixty hours and his damn wife was MIA, he had more files on his desk than a lake had fish and this fucking frog could say whatever he liked about Mycroft but nobody disrespected his wife.

"I actually have rather a knack for licking old cunts, once I'm done with you I'm going to put your boss back in his corner to snivel, so make yourself useful and tell me what I want to know otherwise I'll have you shipped back to France in a manner befitting of a mollusc!"

Gabriel Toussaint's expression dropped then, his eyes even tinted with fear. After all, everybody feared the anger of a gentle man. The mouths of sirs Percy and Edwin dropped to hang partially open because Myc didn't to that, he was a blank slate constantly, he didn't yell.

The suit-clad man forced himself to calm down and took a breath, he retrieved his cell phone a moment just to give him an excuse to stop looking at the aggravating Frenchman. He had a text which he found was from Gregory asking if he wanted to meet for lunch and, while Mycroft did have a lot to do that day, he said yes. Normally Mycroft preferred to speak rather than text but in that moment, in that meeting, it wouldn't have been appropriate so a text would need to do.

Thanks to Mycroft's outburst Toussaint backed down like a scared pussycat and practically rolled over, an act which made Mycroft's day dramatically easier. In the next twenty minutes he'd gotten what he wanted, put Statham in his place and ensured that Edwin was too scared to speak to him for the rest of the afternoon.

When he finally escaped the office he asked Anthea to kindly postpone his last meeting due to his lunch plans, something she was perfectly capable of. Seeing Gregory would be good for him, it would calm his soul a little; Gregory Lestrade was a good friend Mycroft was proud to have.

At their usual café in a corner was where the British Government found Greg waiting for him, Myc sat.

"You need more sleep, Myc." Said Lestrade while he glanced over the menu to see what took his fancy. "Still no news from Artemis?"

Holmes shook his head. "Regrettably not, no."

"You don't need to worry, that girl is- she's always okay."

Mycroft sighed. "While I agree with your logic it appears I am not comforted by it."

"Well of course you aren't, you love her. She'll come back, Myc. She always finds you … or you find her. That and now she has Sander and Gal to come home to as well."

The slightly younger man didn't wish to talk about this subject any longer but he was thankful that Lestrade had tried, he truly was a good friend. The policeman let Mycroft shift the topic on, the pair quickly ordered their lunch and actually enjoyed a pleasant conversation. Having a pleasant conversation was somewhat refreshing for sixty hours of consciousness. By the end of lunch when Myc returned to the office he found himself going back feeling calm and ready for more. There would be more outbursts like those with Toussaint, of that he was sure, but Mycroft doubted there would be more outbursts.

~X~

It was fairly late when Mycroft returned home, his eyes stung from the documents he'd sifted through and if he didn't get sleep soon he'd simply drop down dead. As soon as he'd hung up his overcoat former SAS officer Captain Randall Darrington – though it would seem most during his career had just decided Darri was easier – approached him.

"Hello, sir." The broad man greeted.

"Hello, Captain. How are my sons?"

"Fast asleep in their beds. We had a fun day running around the garden. Sander is extremely good at hide-and-seek."

Mycroft couldn't prevent the micro-smile that forced its way onto her his lips. "He gets that from his mother."

The British Government regarded Darri a moment pleased that he was there to watch over his boys, Captain Darrington wasn't as good as Artemis but he certainly was qualified to protect the Holmes children. Darri was the same height as Mycroft only dramatically more broad and a little over a decade younger. His skin was the color of rich chocolate and Darri kept his head shaved. It was the honest eyes which had encouraged Mycroft to hire him over all the other bodyguards he'd looked into though. Randall Darrington was strong and capable but also kind and surprisingly good with children. The reason for his discharge from service was medical, he'd been struck by a stray bullet which had left him with a slight limp in his right let. A deep scar also adorned his left cheek down over his jaw but Mycroft had yet to learn precisely when that had happened, besides, Mycroft didn't really want to know the story, it reminded him a little too much of the scar on Artemis' neck.

"Still no news of when Missus Holmes shall be returning?" The black man enquired.

Myc couldn't quite put into words just how much he enjoyed hearing people call Artemis his wife.

"No, nothing yet. She will be back though."

Darri nodded accepting the response since he had no reason to argue with it. "I know it's not in my job description but I could make you some tea or something if you like, sir, or get you something stronger maybe."

"Thank you for the consideration but I am fine."

"Sure." Darri nodded. "I'll be off to bed then, if that's all right with you, Mister Holmes."

"Yes, perfectly fine. Goodnight, Captain."

Captain Darrington responded in kind before he took his leave. Mycroft stood by the door a few moments just enjoying the silence before he made his way to the kitchen; turned out Darri had been right, something a little stronger did sound good. Quickly he poured himself a healthy glass of amber before he took it and his briefcase up to his home office.

Once inside Mycroft made sure to lock his laptop away in the safe where it would be – for lack of a better term – safe. With work officially done and the laptop hidden away Mycroft fell into his desk chair in the dark save for the small desk light he turned on. Blue eyes stared at the cabin drawing that his wife had made for him. Gods, even when he'd sent Sherlock away he'd not been so upset. Mycroft's loneliness had started to return and he hated it!

With a deep sigh the suit-clad man downed his brandy – which he really shouldn't have since it was outrageously expensive – then rose from his seat, flicked off the light and left his office pausing only to lock the door.

Having shoved off sleep a little longer Mycroft made his way down the dark halls and into the bedroom his boys shared. Just as Captain Darrington had said they were fast asleep but that wasn't a problem in the slightest, at such a late hour the should have been tucked up in bed. He looked in on Galahad who was snoozing on his back with his little arms in the air, Mycroft grinned at the sight and couldn't stop himself reaching down to pet the boy's hair. Eventually he turned his attention to his elder son who, unlike his brother, slept on his side facing the window.

Knowing he'd not be able to evade sleep much longer Myc perched on the end of Sander's bed and took a breath. He was so used to hiding things, so used to keeping his mask intact and out of sight that Artemis being gone had hurt him more than he'd expected. Caring wasn't an advantage but damn did he care. That was when he felt it, movement. Mycroft glanced down to his left to see Sander on his knees beside him. Father and son looked at one another for a brief time and then, without warning, Sander lent in and hugged his father tightly. For a short time Mycroft didn't react because Lysander hadn't ever made any attempt to touch anybody safe for his brother since they'd met. It took him a couple of seconds but he did finally hug back just as tightly; in that instant it was as though he'd unlocked a new level of fatherhood he'd not known of before.

"She's coming back, Sander, I promise." He whispered in the night. The pair sat together like that for a moment or two before Mycroft spoke again. "Lysander, would it be all right if I slept in here with you tonight?"

The boy nodded hardly a second later for which Mycroft was grateful. In desperate need for sleep he lay down on the bed only for his son to cuddle into his side. Before Mycroft could even process the touch he was asleep.