Two months later

Mycroft was ignoring his mother.

In his defense, he was a very busy man. He had meetings to attend, terrorists to catch...and of course he needed time to work out. He would run on his treadmill every chance he got.

Every voicemail his mother left was the same.

"You never visit Eurus."

"Your father and I are going to see your sister today. You should come with us."

"Sherlock is playing his violin for her again, you don't want to miss that."

"For God's sakes, Mikey. She is your sister, don't you care at all?"

Of course he cared. Which is why he didn't want to see her. He didn't want to see the empty shell she had become. (Although it was arguably better than her psychotic serial killer persona.) He didn't want to listen to the violins tear at his heart strings. He couldn't stand to see the grief on his parents' faces. And the disdain on Sherlock's.

After eighteen missed calls, he finally rang his mother back and told her he would visit Eurus when he had time. She was disappointed it wouldn't be together as a family, but when he insisted that the security of the free world depended on his presence here, she backed off a bit.

Later that day, his cell rang again. He was on the treadmill, but when he saw the caller ID he immediately turned it off and answered his phone.

Sherlock rarely ever called him, and when he did, it was never good.

"Sherlock, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Why are you out of breath?" His brother never was one for formalities.

"Filing."

"Either I've caught you in a compromising position, or you're working out again. I favour the latter."

Mycroft rolled his eyes. "What do you want?"

"You've upset Mummy."

"Oh, for Christ's sake..."

"You're the one who condemned Eurus to Sherrinford in the first place, the least you could do is visit her." Sherlock's tone was clipped and angry, which was surprising.

Mycroft knew that his brother was upset with him, but when they had informed their parents that Eurus was alive, the youngest Holmes had stood up for him; saying that he had done his best.

Obviously something had changed. Maybe Sherlock had been spending too much time with their over-sentimental mother. Or maybe seeing Eurus on a regular basis was doing something to him...

"I told Mummy I would visit her when I have time. Goodbye, Sherlock." Mycroft snapped, hanging up.

He sighed, fidgeting with his phone. He felt the familiar twinge of guilt as he realized Sherlock was right. He would make time to visit Eurus tomorrow.

Mycroft ran three more miles, and he didn't eat that day.

It was early the next morning, and he was on a boat to Sherrinford. He had cleared his schedule for the day, as he was unsure how long he would be gone.

As he set foot upon the island, he had the thought, What am I doing here?

There was honestly no point. Although he could play the violin, he was not nearly as talented as Sherlock. Eurus would not acknowledge his presence. If anything, it would upset her. She probably hated him.

They reached her cell, and Mycroft swallowed his uncertainty. Eurus had a knack for sensing vulnerability and preying upon it.

The guards left them alone, and he stared through the glass at his sister. To his relief she looked better than he had imagined in his guilty mind. She did not appear lost or lonely or sad. She simply sat in the middle of the room, gazing at the floor thoughtfully.

She looked up, and a smile crossed her face. It was not a sadistic grin, like when she had locked him in her old cell. It was a sort of absent, dazed smile, and she almost appeared...high.

"She certainly looks insane, doesn't she?" A voice behind him caused Mycroft to spin around.

"Sherlock, what are you doing here?" He frowned.

"I knew you'd come." His brother stated. His eyes narrowed. "Are you ill?"

"I'm fine." Mycroft dismissed. "Is she being drugged?"

"No." Sherlock replied. "She is simply lost in her own little world."

"She looks slightly improved from last time I was here."

"Yes. But you, on the other hand..." Sherlock stepped closer, gaze sweeping over his brother's thin frame. He had that look in his eyes, the one Mycroft knew too well. He was on the cusp of some grand deduction, close to figuring out big brother's secrets. "Something's wrong."

"It's none of your concern." Mycroft quickly changed the subject. "What is the point of visiting Eurus when she's like this? It's like she doesn't even know we're here."

"We just need to wake her up, that's all." Sherlock said, reaching for his violin much to Mycroft's relief.

He started to play, and this time the tune wasn't sad or mournful. It was by no means happy, but it was definitely an improvement.

Mycroft watched in awe as Eurus picked up her own violin and began to play with Sherlock. It was the sound of a lazy Sunday. Of clouds gathering for a gentle summer rain.

This went on for what seemed like hours, and finally the song ended, the last notes of the violins fading into quiet vibrations.

"Beautiful." Mycroft said quietly.

"Do you see now why Mummy wanted you to come?"

"Don't spoil the moment, brother mine." Mycroft rapped on the door to let the guards know they were ready to leave. "I suppose we'll be riding back on the same boat?"

"Of course," Sherlock answered, obviously happy to have more time to figure out what was wrong with Mycroft.

"Lovely," He mumbled.