Gregory Lestrade had found himself in numerous strange situations over the years. His occupation at Scotland Yard and his association with one Mr. Sherlock Holmes was the cause of most of them. He had never pictured himself having a friendly drink at the pub with either of the Holmes brothers, but he could live with that. Even if he was having a drink with both of them at the same time.

"So, Greg, how goes the Campbell case?" Sherlock asked amiably.

"You know exactly how, you solved it for us yesterday. Suspect's in custody, in midst of confessing. I gave you all the credit, by the way. Enough about me. How are you two doing?" Greg surveyed the two brothers. He still felt a bit strange addressing the older Holmes so informally. He had always been somewhat intimidated by the man, yet he had gotten to see a more vulnerable side to the man recently. He had sat by the man's hospital bed for hours and then helped him get settled back at home. Mycroft Holmes was wearing his usual aloof countenance right now, but Greg detected some more warmth in his eyes when he smiled. A friendship of some sort between them had tentatively taken root, and the DI was willing to go along with it and see where it would take him. Just as he had done with the younger brother.

"I am doing very well, thank you," Mycroft responded in a somewhat strained manner. Not used to small talk, that one. By golly, that man really needs to get a life, Greg mused to himself. "I hope we haven't kept you from your obligations." Mycroft smiled tightly.

"Not at all, it's nice to get to spend some time with friends." He saw Sherlock staring at the ceiling nervously. "Look, I may be an idiot, but I do realize you two want to discuss something with me. So, I usually don't bite on Sundays, you can get it out. If you do want me to fly out to Siberia or something, all I'm asking is to be allowed a change of clothes. And a fur hat. It gets a bit chilly up there, I've heard." He chuckled, and was pleased to see the brother's grinning at that.

"Not to worry, my dear DI. My little brother here," Mycroft waved a hand at Sherlock, "has been pretty insistent on seeking your advice regarding some…family issues. After some consideration, I agreed with him that you might be the right person to offer assistance. I do hope this is not an imposition."

"I know this is not our usual style, but we're both running out of options. You have children, Greg, don't you?"Sherlock queried. Greg nodded. "Then perhaps you can offer some insight through that perspective."

"Hold on a moment," Gregory said, running a hand through his hair, as realization dawned. "I am only a Detective Inspector. I have no qualifications in psychology. Wouldn't you be better of consulting a professional in this case?"

"Tell me, Mr. Lestrade, do you happen to know a therapist who would deal with our family without needing the professional assistance of their colleagues in the aftermath?" Mycroft asked. "This is not the time for doing an in-depth psychoanalysis of all parties concerned, much as I doubt that would even be possible. You are a sensible man, you have been acquainted with my brother and me for years, and you are familiar with the details of our…situation. You are our best option now." Mycroft drummed his fingers on the table, looking even more uncomfortable than before.

"Greg, I don't want you to feel forced into this. I just want to hear your thoughts. You are one of the most decent men I've ever met, and you have loads of common sense. How about you let me outline the situation and then you let me know if there's anything you want to say."

"You don't understand," Greg said softly. "If you think I can offer you some insight into parent/child relationships, you have the wrong guy. I have failed as a father many times. My son wouldn't even speak to me for a period of over two years. I am not the man you think I am."

The two brothers stared at their friend in shock. "That's impossible," Sherlock blurted out. "How could anyone ever be upset at you, let alone your own child? You have the patience of a saint, you're impossibly kind—

"Do shut up Sherlock." Turning to Lestrade, Mycroft said, "I do understand that family dynamics can be complicated and are often beyond reason. However, I think that's exactly why your insight would be so valuable. You have obviously reconciled with your son, as you speak of your…estrangement in past tense. If you don't mind my asking, how is your daughter, or is it daughters?"

"Katy and Jane, and my son's David. How did you know?" Greg wondered. "It was obvious; you confirmed you have children, in the plural sense, yet you spoke about your son without specification, such as describing him as older or younger, or even merely a general 'one of my sons'. Therefore, your other progeny would be female." Mycroft smiled smugly.

"And you are always telling me not to show off," Sherlock muttered.

"Fine, they're doing fine. It was hard for all of us after my ex and I divorced, with blame being passed around like cake at a birthday party. We're trying, but enough about me. Start from the beginning, if you don't mind."
***TFD***

"So she's very upset, then she tells Mycroft he's limited, and then she turns to you, asking you what to do?" Greg summarized Sherlock's monologue.

"Yes, after saying I was always the grownup. Look, we both love our parents and think they're amazing what with putting up with us and all. I'm not complaining about them. We just don't know how to deal with their recent actions."

"Continue."

"Mycroft has tried apologizing numerous times. Mummy has refused to even speak with him. Dad has told him that he is forgiven, but this is not about forgiveness, it is about trust."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mycroft," Greg said sincerely.

"Wait, there's more." Sherlock continued. "I have been getting a large number of unusual phone calls from Mummy. One day it's about Dad's heart condition, and would I be able to recommend a good heart doctor? The next day, it's about her issues with home insurance, and then she wants advice about her traveling destinations. And of course, there are her concerns about, you know, our sister," Sherlock tensed a bit at the last part. "Would I speak to her doctors, is she making any progress, that sort of concerns."

"And she's never called with that kind of concerns?" Greg asked carefully.

"Nah, we never spoke a lot." Sherlock waved a hand dismissively. "She would call me once every few weeks, ask if I'm eating well, sleeping enough, and only using my nicotine patches. She would tell me all about her recent travels, all the funny little stories about Dad, and that was it.

Sherlock shrugged uncomfortably. "Listen, it's not like I don't want to help her, she's just asking me to do things that are not in my department at all. When I suggest that Mycroft would be better able to assist, she just sighs and tells me that I'm more than capable of doing a good job, and that she knows I won't betray her trust."

"Then he turns right around and calls me, and I take care of the issue. Sherlock then gets all the credit for getting the job done, but for some reason he isn't too happy about it," Mycroft spoke up.

"I'm tired of being the bloody middleman!" Sherlock exclaimed heatedly. "I don't know how you put up with this constant pressure, but I am totally not ready for this! I am not a replacement for Mycroft, and don't want to be treated as one!"

"That does seem like a lot of pressure," Greg mused sympathetically. "Well, he isn't getting a fraction of what I used to get," Mycroft smirked. "I was asked to look after Sherlock."

Greg smirked at that too while Sherlock pouted. "I do not think either of us would like this situation to continue," Mycroft sighed. "I have tried verbal apologies, sending flowers, anything I could think of. I accept responsibility for hurting them, yet I would like to find a way to make it up to them. I acknowledge I am not so good with…sentiment, I was hoping you would have some advice." Mycroft looked more like a chastened puppy than the British Government at that point.

"I'm sorry, for both of you," Greg said gently. "From my perspective as a father, I can assure that a parent will always love their child, no matter what the child has done. Sometimes, when a person is hurting, it can temporarily cloud their judgment. Your parents seem to be very loving and devoted, I'm sure they'll come around.

"And I'm guessing this is about more than simple convenience, Sherlock. You may have your typical sibling rivalries, but you don't like seeing your brother hurt.

"And you, Mycroft, I have to say you have done an amazing job of shouldering the burden of caring for your family, though perhaps you need to let go a bit. You have to acknowledge that you were trying your best, and forgive yourself for the mistakes you have made. Perhaps forgiving yourself would make it easier for others to do the same."

"Thank you, Greg," Sherlock said quietly as Mycroft nodded in acknowledgement, his chest too tight to speak.

"Are your parents in the country?" Greg inquired. "Perhaps I can have a chat with them, parent to parent."

***TFD***

"Mr. and Mrs. Holmes," Greg extended his hand. He looked around the well kept mansion, and then at the stately older couple, nervously. The Holmes parents had the advantage over him in age, as well as social and economic status. He suddenly wondered whether the correct address would have been 'Sir' and 'Lady'.

"I wish to commend you on raising two of the best men I've ever met," he began, "both of whom I'm proud to call a friend." He took a deep breath.

"I am here because your boys are hurting, and I know you'd want to help them."

A/N So, this was a bit different than the usual confrontations, and I want to hear your opinions. Did you like me bringing in Lestrade? Do you want to see more of Lestrade and the elder Holmes, or do you want the parents and the boys meeting, perhaps with flashbacks to Lestrade? Are there any other character's you want me to bring in? Thanks for the feedback!

P.S. Thanks to those who have noticed the mistake, I'm correcting the first chapter with the ages of Eurus and Sherlock.