Chapter 58

The first half had been a huge success, gripping Lucy from the very start. Side glancing at Wanda Holmes, she could see how much the older lady was enjoying it. Wanda's lips slightly mimed each song, a smile playing on her lips as her husband took her hand in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze as they glanced lovingly at each other. This is what a family is meant to be like, thought Lucy. They all applauded as the curtain closed for the half time break.

"I need another drink." Mycroft immediately mumbled. He practically ran off to get them another round.

"Oh that boy," Wanda laughed.

"I don't think this is his cup of tea," Tim remarked, his eyes sparkling in amusement.

"Well tough," Wanda smirked. "Ooh sweets!" She suddenly exclaimed as she saw the theatre worker walking nearby with sweets and programmes. The lady stood up and purchased a couple of bags of wine gums. When she sat back down she handed a bag each to Tim and Lucy.

"Thank you," Lucy smiled.

"Oh nonsense, it's nice to treat you." Wanda beamed, "You're part of the family now!"

"Oh do I have to share?" Tim remarked jokingly.

"Yes, and you better not steal all my favourites!" Wanda raised an eyebrow at him before taking a sweet.

Mycroft returned with drinks for everyone, and raised his eyebrows as he saw his parents quarrelling over who kept eating all the black sweets. Wanting to please Wanda, Lucy had been nibbling slowly on several of the sweets. They were tasty and reminded her of her childhood. She wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad thing, but as long as it didn't make her sad, that was all that mattered. The teenager held the bag out to Mycroft and he looked at her before sighing in defeat and taking one.

"Are you okay?" He murmured quietly to her.

"I'm okay now, thanks," she smiled. He nodded, just pleased to see her eating some sweets- albeit quite slowly.

The second half started and Lucy felt herself get lost in the music and acting and the world in which the stage brought to life. The barricade was an impressive piece of the set, and their seats gave them a perfect view of it. Not too long into the second act though, she heard the sound of a fake gunshot and saw the actor playing Gavroche fall to the floor. Even though she knew there would be deaths in this, she didn't think it would affect her so much. She took a deep breath, trying to stop the imminent panic attack.

The gunshot kept replaying through her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut, only to be confronted with the memory of her parents 'dying'. Over and over again she saw the blood on the pavement, she heard the gunshots ring out. Truthfully, she didn't care about her 'parents', they were locked up and definitely not a part of her life anymore. But the memory, the trauma, it still haunted her.

Mycroft shifted in his seat, carefully and cautiously taking Lucy's hand in his own again. He didn't realise it would affect her so much, and he mentally kicked himself for not warning her. He felt her flinch under his touch and she turned to look at him. Mycroft could see the hurt and pain in her young eyes. He saw how the memories still tormented her. And while he may be the ice man to most people, to his family he cared unconditionally. His thumb rubbed circles on the back of Lucy's hand, in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. The contact seemed to help calm her a little, so he held her hand, trying to comfort her throughout the rest of the performance.

By the end of the musical, Lucy felt mostly okay again. They all stood up to applaud the actors. It was safe to say that the Holmes parents thoroughly enjoyed themselves; Wanda kept talking about all her favourite songs and how stunning it was as they approached the black car waiting for them. They ended up in a fancy restaurant and were once again led to a booth. This time, Lucy sat next to Mycroft, and Wanda and Tim sat opposite them. The teenager was a little sad that Sherlock wasn't going to be joining them, but she was just glad to be with people she loved and cared about. Mycroft ordered them wine, but Lucy asked for a glass of water instead. She was already feeling very dizzy and lightheaded and didn't want the alcohol to make her worse. Although she wasn't feeling particularly hungry, she ordered a grilled chicken salad. It didn't escape her notice that Mycroft seemed to look constantly worried for her. Obviously, it made her feel guilty that he kept worrying, but she was trying her best and didn't know what else to do to relieve everyone's concern.

"Did Sherlock ever tell you about how he and Mycroft always played pirates when they were children?" Wanda asked Lucy.

"No," She laughed in surprise, "I don't know a lot about their childhood."

"Sherlock was always pretending to be a pirate, he had a little sword that he would always swish about." Tim smiled fondly at the memory.

"Myc only played pirates to keep Sherlock happy." Wanda said, "I think every night for about a year when they were kids, Sherlock forced him to tell pirate stories at bed time."

"That's more than enough information," Mycroft mumbled, glaring daggers whenever he was called Myc. He looked so relieved when the waiter came over with their food.

"Did I mention the time that Myc found my makeup?" Wanda started.

"Mother!" Mycroft huffed, putting his face in his hands.

"Aww is the British Government embarrassed?" Lucy asked jokingly. He glared at her.

"I could send you far away." He threatened half-heartedly.

"I'd like to see him try," Wanda muttered to Lucy.

"I'm sure we always end up arguing or being threatened whenever we see the boys." Tim sighed, but his eyes twinkled happily.

They ate their food and continued with their light-hearted conversation. Wanda and Tim were saying how they would be going shopping in London the next day before they all met up again for dinner, they would be leaving the morning after so Sherlock would be forced to socialise the next night again. Lucy was sad that they would be leaving so soon, she had become to enjoy the Holmes parent's company. It felt like her own little family. But Wanda insisted that they must all go around to their home for a big family roast soon, which put a smile on Lucy's face and a grimace on Mycroft's.

However, Lucy was starting to become increasingly frustrated with the way she could see Mycroft check on how much she was eating. Occasionally, she would catch him in the corner of her eye, observing how much she was eating and how long it was taking her to eat. It made her want to shout out in annoyance. But then again, she seemed to be struggling with her temper more and more recently. It was becoming harder to control the impulsive outbursts to defend herself. Instead, she ploughed on and managed to finish all of the salad. She felt bloated and sick. Glancing over at Mycroft, she raised her eyebrows to prove a point, he merely smiled at her. It angered her but she was not going to make a scene in front of Wanda and Tim.

After the meal, Wanda and Tim bid goodbye to them both. Lucy grinned as she could hear Wanda humming one of the songs from Les Miserable as they got into one of Mycroft's usual cars.

"Shall we?" Mycroft gestured to the other car. Lucy looked at him and saw his expression was cautious and calculating. He looked uncharacteristically unsure. And for a government official like Mycroft to be uncertain, was rather odd. The man hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with not knowing what Lucy would say or do. He knew he had annoyed her.

"I think I will walk for a bit." Lucy said with no emotion as she turned away from him and walked aimlessly into the darkened streets of London. Of course, she wasn't alone as she heard Mycroft immediately sigh and follow her. They walked in silence for several minutes, the quiet allowed the teenager to calm down. She could hear the tap of Mycroft's umbrella as he occasionally used it like a walking stick. He walked behind her, trying to give her some space. They reached a bridge when Lucy abruptly stopped. She turned to lean against the safety railing, looking out into the expanse of inky blackness. The river below was mostly still, apart from the odd ripple. It was, after all, a calm night for London, even though the usual nightly traffic still brought some sound to the quiet night. She could tell that Mycroft had paused behind her, clearly deciding what to do before copying her and watching the water beneath them.

"I annoyed you." He finally broke the silence with the painfully obvious comment.

"It's been a nice night," Lucy decided to say instead. "The show was amazing." She laughed to herself a little, allowing herself to feel the rare feeling of happiness. Mycroft had pursed his lips; she had thrown him off of whatever speech he had prepared and he did not know what to say. "I like your parents. So much." Lucy continued. "It feels like I have a family."

"You do have a family." Mycroft murmured.

"Do I?"

"Of course," he was frowning, looking at her face. She smiled without humour.

"It's all I've wanted for ages." Lucy sighed. "And yet I still feel…" She shook her head, unsure how to finish.

"It's okay to feel as you do. You've been through a lot."

"I wish everyone would stop making excuses for the way I feel." She snapped, but her voice turned quiet again. "Because I should not be feeling this way. I should not be feeling the need to tear my skin open. I should not feel the need to hurt myself in any way possible. I have a good life."

"Just because you have a good life doesn't make your feelings invalid. It may take a while before you feel happy."

"Why are you suddenly master of emotions?" Lucy smirked. Mycroft huffed out a laugh, oddly similar to Sherlock's.

"I understand more than you realise." Was all he said.

"How cryptic." Lucy muttered.

"Lucy," Mycroft started slowly, thinking through what to say. "You have a family now who will do anything to protect and look after you. It takes time to feel better both mentally and physically after a great trauma. You need to give yourself some time. Time to grieve and have bad days. Time to realise that you do and will have more good days. You need to talk to Sherlock more. He understands."

"I'm scared to talk to him again." Lucy shook her head. "It's why I like being with you so much." She saw his puzzled face and elaborated, "Sherlock pretended to be dead for over a year. John was distant for ages afterwards and he has Mary now. If I'm honest, the only really constant people in my life lately have been you and Greg."

"You need to trust Sherlock." Mycroft said after a pause. Lucy just nodded. She started to walk again. This time, Mycroft hesitated before following her, knowing better than to leave her alone. Eventually, they found a bench to sit on, watching the London traffic pass through the streets.

"You need to stop checking up on me." Lucy finally got to the point.

"I can't do that." Mycroft said.

"Both you and Sherlock are doing it and it's driving me mad." She crossed her arms, feeling the chill of the night air.

"And you are getting worse." Mycroft pointed out gently. "You forget, I know a dangerous addiction when I see one. I've spent many danger nights with Sherlock before and neither of us want you going through anything like that."

"I'm not a drug addict."

"But you're still addicted to self destruction." Mycroft looked at her, his words shutting her up. "For goodness sake Lucy we aren't idiots. We know what is going on. We know you need serious help soon. And if it gets much worse then both Sherlock and I will do something." He sighed, controlling the frustration in his voice. "I don't want to see you spiral out of control. Please, you need to try hard to get better on your own since you're so against professional help. Obviously, we will do anything we can but your own recovery is in your hands."

"I understand." Lucy said bitterly. Mycroft hated to have said it and he knew she hated to hear it, but it had to be said before things got worse. There was a

pause. "I'm sorry Mycroft."

"Don't apologise." He smiled.

Eventually, the two of them got into the black car that was waiting for them. Lucy hugged Mycroft when they got to Baker Street. She rested her head on his chest and felt him kiss the top of her head, an affectionate gesture that was rare to see from the man. She headed up to see Sherlock sat in his chair, clearly bored out of his mind.

"Hey," She instantly went over and hugged him. He grunted in surprise but returned the hug.

"Did the theatre make you go all soft?" He muttered.

"Shut up," She poked him. "It was good actually."

"Mycroft didn't like it." He said.

"How do you know that?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't tell me you worked it out from the crease on the sleeve of my shirt?" He snorted in amusement.

"No, he called me during the break and asked me to come and take over." Sherlock laughed, causing Lucy to giggle.

There was a peaceful silence as Lucy made them both a cup of tea. It was a mission trying to find safe equipment to use in the hazardous kitchen that was slowly becoming more of a science laboratory by the day.

"Why were you gone for so long?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh, me and Mycroft ended up having a long chat."

"How dull." He huffed and took his tea. "What a day you've had. The theatre, dinner with my family and a chat with Mycroft. Sounds like hell."

"It was nice." She smiled.

"You prefer my brother." He said nonchalantly.

"Jealous again." Lucy smirked. Sherlock just wrinkled his nose in annoyance and distaste. She rolled her eyes, "I can't believe I'm having this conversation, but I do not favour either of you."

"Why not? Surely I'm better!" He looked hurt.

"I can't pick favourites," She laughed. "Honestly Sherlock, I've just been talking about personal stuff with Mycroft. It's taken a while to realise that he understands me more than I realised." This clearly did not comfort Sherlock any more. "If it makes you feel any better, I've really missed you." This elicited a self-satisfied smirk from the detective.

"Good because I need your help." He jumped up and began pacing. "I need help organising a bachelor party for John."

"Oh he asked you to be best man finally?"

"Yes he took me by surprise actually. Wait! You already knew?" He narrowed his eyes.

"It was obvious he'd choose you." Lucy laughed. "Is that why there is a tea soaked eyeball? He took you by surprise."

"You don't want to know." He grinned.

"Well then, hit me with your plans!"