Hey guys! I'm super sad and my chronic illness is keeping me in bed so other than binging the new season of oitnb the only thing I can really do is write so here I am. Hope you enjoy! Warnings for mentions of childhood abuse.
Mycroft pushed himself into an actual sitting position, clearing his throat as he shifted his gaze from his brother.
There would be no going back if he said those words.
But he could tell by the look on Sherlock's face that he already knew.
"I..."
Mycroft didn't do flustered. He didn't do embarrassed.
Not usually.
But this secret was his life's biggest.
Including all the shady stuff he had done in the past at his 'minor' job position in the government.
"I have...I am..." Mycroft flinched and sighed. "I have an eating disorder, Sherlock."
The dark haired man sat back on his heels, hands steepled under his chin.
His brows furrowed and his lips tightened as his chin trembled just a little.
"Myc-" he swallowed, suddenly reaching his hands out to him before pulling them back to his chest, unsure.
They weren't those kind of brothers.
At least they hadn't been for a long time.
Once upon a time they'd been close.
Mycroft had looked after Sherlock for much of their childhood.
Their parents had been... quite not good.
Mycroft had cared for him after every hit, reassured and held him after every fight, every raised voice.
He'd soothed him after nightmares, stroked his hair when he woke up screaming.
He'd taken him to school every morning and picked him up until Sherlock decided he was old enough to do it himself.
He'd helped with homework and projects and violin lessons.
In return, Sherlock hadn't had much to give except his love and adoration.
Mycroft had been his role model.
His big brother, always there for him.
Then things had changed.
Mycroft had gathered just enough strength to clamber to his feet.
"Myc, hey no be careful." Sherlock stood in one fluid motion, reaching for him again.
This time he didn't pull back.
He pulled his brother into his grip, long arms winding around his back.
Mycroft kept his hands in fists at his sides, momentarily lost for words.
He could feel the moment Sherlock decided he'd done the wrong thing and stiffened, about to pull away.
That was when Mycroft wrapped his arms around his younger brother and held him close, just for a moment.
When they pulled apart, Sherlock cleared his throat and gestured to the sofa. "Sit, I'll make tea."
A very British solution to a problem.
Once tea was made, Sherlock sat opposite his brother.
They sipped their drinks for a while before Sherlock carefully put his teacup down.
"So, brother mine, I think you should start at the beginning."
It would be a long night.
Sorry it was short, brain fog is real guys. Hope it all made sense and sorry if it was out of character, I've not written these guys properly in a long time. I'm still deciding where to go with this but it shouldn't be long before I update again. Hey, if you like Marvel too, go check out my other many fics. Thanks for the love guys.