Author's Note: I'm sorry. I'm afraid that this is more of a filler chapter. On the bright side, since I feel bad about posting such a boring chapter, I have linked it with one of my favorite chapters of the story so far!
Chapter Nine
Mycroft was going to be in so much trouble. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he guiltily glanced around. The Doctor was going to be angry. Sherlock was going to be amused but that was beside the point.
Mycroft blamed the Tardis.
He hadn't intended to go into the locked wing. It wasn't his fault. Well, it was partially his fault but it was easier to blame the blue police box. He had been in the library, browsing through more information on the Weeping Angels. Three days had passed since the incident, but he still wanted to know more about them. On his search for more information, he had passed a large door. It wasn't that spectacular but it did catch his attention; mostly because it was locked.
Mycroft turned and saw a key on the end-table. The Tardis had to be the one to put it there. Keys didn't just spontaneously appear. Then again, Mycroft reminded himself, anything was possible. He blamed the Tardis nonetheless.
But if the Tardis wanted him to see something, it was only polite to respect her wishes.
He hesitated and unlocked the door. Leather-bound books were neatly-stacked along the clean shelves, nothing like the rest of the library. Mycroft looked at the first volume.
Rose.
He frowned. The Doctor had a secret wing devoted to flowers?
Mycroft gently opened it and soon realized that it was not a story about flowers. He settled into a comfy chair. He read the first chapter and then the next. Before he knew it, he had read the entire book. The Doctor described himself as being in his ninth regeneration. Mycroft had no idea what that meant, until he saw a detailed sketch. Mycroft merely stared at it. The man was not the Doctor. It couldn't be…
The Doctor had other companions. Mycroft and Sherlock were both smart enough to realize that they weren't the first companions, but it still stung. He quickly shook off the selfish and jealous thought. He wasn't being fair. Of course the Doctor had other companions. And when Sherlock and Mycroft finally left, he would have more.
That thought was terrifying. One day, Sherlock and Mycroft would leave the Tardis.
He was terrified to wonder where Rose was and why the Doctor hadn't mentioned her.
Rule One: The Doctor lies.
And sometimes lies of omission were the worst ones.
Mycroft looked up and saw the second volume: The End of the World.
Nobody would blame him for wanting to read a book with that title. So he did. By the time the Doctor called for dinner, Mycroft was halfway through Aliens of London.
Mycroft's mind buzzed as he carefully put the books back and closed the door to the secret wing. He tried to appear innocent as he sat next to Sherlock.
"Mycroft?"
Mycroft nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn't realized that the Doctor had been talking to him until the Time Lord repeated, "Would you like another piece of pizza?"
Mycroft accepted, still embarrassed that he hadn't heard the Doctor.
"Are you feeling alright?"
"I'm fine."
The Doctor raised his eyebrows and Mycroft sighed, unable to lie to him, "Doctor…I was in the library and…I saw…something…"
"Oh no," the Doctor groaned, "Jack didn't leave behind a few magazines did he?"
"No," Mycroft said, startled, "What?"
"Nothing," the Doctor quickly said, "What'd you see?"
"Well," Mycroft hesitated, "I found this wing and the Tardis supplied the key and it turned out to be a bunch of volumes about your…earlier adventures."
Sherlock paused, still chewing on a piece of alien-meat that closely resembled pepperoni.
"Ah," the Doctor softly said.
"I read a few," Mycroft burst out, "I'm sorry. I know that they were private but…"
"Easy," the Doctor gently said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "Easy, Mycroft. I don't mind if you read them. I keep them locked away in case anyone who shouldn't be in the Tardis ends up coming in. I don't want them to find family records or other facts. But I trust you."
Mycroft nodded, feeling slightly relieved and touched.
From that point on, he spent most of his free time in the library. He was a fast reader and got through several volumes a day. He practically devoured the stories. The Doctor would often join him, providing extra details or cautionary disclaimers.
He clarified what it meant to regenerate. He said that it was a defense mechanism of Time Lords. From what Mycroft understood, it meant that he obtained a whole new body and personality. The Doctor was currently in his eleventh generation.
After about two weeks, he reached Doomsday. After reading the book, he set it down and numbly sat in the chair. Rose was gone. That's why they hadn't met her.
He wasn't aware of how long he had blanked out, until Sherlock poked his head in and eagerly asked, "Aren't you coming to dinner?"
"I'm not…I'm not hungry, Sherlock," Mycroft huskily said.
Sherlock frowned and raced off. Seconds later, the Doctor came tearing through and anxiously cried, "Sherlock says that you're sick?"
"I'm not sick," Mycroft scowled, "It's just…"
The Doctor glanced down at the book in his hands and suddenly understood. He sighed and sat on the arm of the chair, putting his own arm around Mycroft. Mycroft hardly ever cried but he was visibly upset. He finally took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry, Doctor. I'm sorry that you lost her."
"Me too," the Doctor softly replied.
"She was amazing," Mycroft complimented, "They all were. Rose and Jackie and Mickey and Jack…"
"Jack's still around," the Doctor excitedly claimed, "He'll be around for a while. And if it helps, Rose is happy…in the parallel world."
Sherlock knocked on the door and hastily said, "Err…Doctor. About the dinner…"
The Doctor grinned and remarked, "If you look past the tentacles, it tastes just like chicken. I promise."
"Yes alright," Sherlock pressed, "But it's hard to look past the tentacles when they're squeezing your arm."
He held up his left arm and the two were amused to see that he was right. Their dinner, which could only be described as an alien-octopus, was clinging onto him.
The Doctor struggled to pull it off before saying, "Alright! Who wants to go out to eat?"
The boys eagerly agreed and they quickly left the library. Mycroft and the Doctor were both grateful for the distraction. They hurried into the console room and the Doctor fumbled with the buttons. The Tardis rocked before coming to a calming stop. Mycroft and Sherlock were still tired from earlier—the three had landed in a market only to find that the fruit was being infested by alien worms—but still eagerly raced to the door.
They were sitting on a large mountaintop on a planet that closely resembled Earth.
Mycroft took a deep breath and was immediately met with a decedent smell. It was mesmerizing. It was enchanting. It was coming from the small chocolate shop right next to them.
"Bon appetite," the Doctor laughed.
"We're having chocolate for dinner?" Mycroft laughed.
"I heard that it's…really good," the Doctor said, inhaling the aroma, "It's supposed to be extremely…very…good…"
The three quickly raced into the shop. A stout, older, woman smiled and greeted them before giving them each a free sample. It was the best chocolate that Mycroft had ever tasted.
By the time they exited the shop, their belts were all rather tight.
"Doctor, I meant to ask," Mycroft asked, "Do you even need to eat?"
The Doctor thought for a moment before saying, "Technically, I can go a long time without having to. But I enjoy food and Time Lords can eat a lot more than humans can without getting full."
They glanced over, surprised to see that they were not alone on the mountaintop. Several average-looking teenagers were on the edge of the slope, holding what appeared to be makeshift sleds and snowboards.
"You're not honestly thinking about sliding down that?" Mycroft asked, before he could help himself.
One of the teenagers frowned and snapped, "What's it to you?"
"Chip, don't be rude," the second teenager reprimanded before saying, "It's a contest to see who can rig the best way to get down. Anything goes. First to the bottom wins."
Sherlock's eyes lit up with excitement but Chip immediately snarled, "Don't get your hopes up, kid. You'll never be able to keep up."
"Wanna bet?" Sherlock asked.
"No," Mycroft immediately said, "No. You're not going down that."
"It doesn't look too dangerous," Sherlock muttered, "I can see the simplest and safest path down. It would be easy…"
"No!" Mycroft snapped, "That's final."
"You're not the boss of me," Sherlock hissed.
"I'm your bloody brother," Mycroft barked, "That's good enough."
"Why do you always have to be so boring?" Sherlock whined.
Mycroft reeled back, stung, before huffing, "Well at least I don't want to risk my life just to prove that I'm the smartest child in the universe."
"Sherlock, Mycroft, that's enough," the Doctor said, coming between them, "Mycroft, you're still upset over what you read earlier. Sherlock, your pride is wounded from what this dunderhead said. That's no reason to lash out at each other."
For once, Mycroft ignored the Doctor and turned to the teenagers, "Alright. We're in."
"Ehh, Mycroft," the Doctor started.
"Fine," Chip snapped, "Meet us back here in ten minutes."
"Mycroft."
"Fine."
"Mycroft, a word."
The Doctor grabbed his elbow and dragged him into the Tardis. Sherlock followed, looking slightly surprised by Mycroft's behavior. As it turned out, the Doctor didn't need to say anything. As soon as the Tardis door was closed, Mycroft sighed, "I'm sorry. I…I don't know what I was thinking. Too much chocolate."
"You're usually the rational one," Sherlock snickered, "Now you have to sled down a bloody mountain!"
Mycroft buried his face in his hands and the Doctor said, "Come on. I can hit a button and we can be gone in three seconds."
"I thought that we didn't run away from fights," Mycroft asked, "Sherlock's right; I'm usually always the rational one. And you know what? That's boring."
Sherlock grinned at that.
"We can deduce it," Mycroft agreed, "Brains over brawn."
"You're going to need more than just your brains," the Doctor said and though he still looked doubtful, he crossed to a cupboard and opened it. Two large toboggans fell out, complete with rocket boosters. It looked like something out of an old cartoon.
"Oh, you beautiful thing," the Doctor complimented the Tardis.
Sherlock laughed and said, "Thanks, Tardis."
"Alright," Mycroft took a deep breath, "Alright. I can do this."
"We can do this," Sherlock added, "I'm coming with you!"
Mycroft gave him an appreciative smile.
The Doctor frowned and cried, "Wait."
The two turned but instead of stopping them, the Doctor gently smiled and said, "You two are not going out dressed like that."
Mycroft snickered and asked, "Did the Doctor just tell us that we are not going out dressed like that?"
"Yes," Sherlock murmured, "Didn't you hear him?"
Mycroft rolled his eyes, not wanting to get into another argument about sarcasm.
The Doctor ushered them to the wardrobe and made sure that they had heavy coats, helmets, heat-packs, and gloves. He hesitated before also grabbing a blue scarf and tying it around Sherlock's neck.
They went back outside and Sherlock asked, "Doctor, aren't you going to get a toboggan?"
"No, I'd rather not break my neck," the Doctor hastily said, "I'll just stay here."
Mycroft swallowed and he and Sherlock joined the others.
"Nice helmets," Chip chortled.
"Unlike you, our brains are actually valuable and worth protecting," Sherlock smoothly remarked, "Although you should really consider wearing one to preserve the brain-cells that you have left."
"Snap," the Doctor called, leaning against the Tardis.
Chip's friends laughed and he glowered. They then leapt onto their snowboards and sleds. Mycroft and Sherlock climbed onto their toboggans.
"Anything goes," Chip reminded them, "And…GO!"
Sherlock and Mycroft pushed off and slowly slid down the hill.
"How do we activate the rocket boosters?" Mycroft wondered aloud.
Sherlock thought for a split second before shouting, "GERONIMO!"
That did it. Mycroft repeated the scream and the two rapidly shot down the hill. They were going slow enough to mind the trees and bumps but fast enough to catch up with the others.
They were passing them. They were winning! They were spinning out of control!
Sherlock and Mycroft screamed as a ball of fire hit the ground before them. They tried to pull out of the way but doing so caused the toboggans to skitter and topple before crashing into a lump of snow. Chip zoomed past them, smirking as he showed off a smoking glove.
"Sherlock…" Mycroft grunted with pain, "Are you okay?"
"He has a glove that produces balls of fire," Sherlock cried.
"Don't look so impressed," Mycroft snapped, "He just beat us."
The two brothers stood up only to feel something crash into them from behind. It was a second before they realized that the thing was the Tardis. The force of the crash had knocked them off of their feet and through the door.
"Climb aboard," the Doctor shouted from above, "Mind the ropes."
"What?" Sherlock cried.
The two stood up and saw that the Tardis was rapidly sliding down the hill. Ropes were tied to the steering mechanisms and extended out and up to the roof. They looked up and saw that the Doctor was standing on top of said roof. Mycroft and Sherlock hesitated for only a brief second before climbing up to join him.
"We're sledding on the Tardis?" Mycroft shouted, trying to keep his balance.
"Anything goes," the Doctor pointed out.
"You…do…realize…that…by…that…definition..." Sherlock gasped, "We could have easily materialized the Tardis down to the bottom of the mountain."
"Yes but where's the fun in that?" Mycroft smirked and Sherlock returned it.
Suffice to say, they won by a landslide. By the time Chip and his friends reached the bottom of the mountain, smirking and chortling, the Doctor, Sherlock, and Mycroft were leaning against the wall of the Tardis.
"Blimey," Chip's friend gasped, "You won!"
"Woohoo!" Sherlock cheered.
He and Mycroft high-fived and the Doctor did an excited jig.
"Come on," Chip snarled to the other two, "Let's go back up."
The other two mouthed their congratulations over their shoulders and followed Chip back to the lift.
"Err, Doctor," Sherlock suddenly said, "Can I have the Sonic?"
"Sure," the Doctor shrugged, handing it over.
Sherlock clicked it. The three listened and suddenly heard the man operating the lift growl, "Sorry, boys. It appears to be out of order. For safety purposes, you're going to have to hike up the manual path."
The boys cussed and hissed as they slowly made their way up the snowy stairs.
Sherlock, Mycroft, and the Doctor laughed.
"You know," the Doctor exclaimed, his eyes twinkling, "I would have disabled it when they were halfway up."
"No," Mycroft sharply cried, "They could have gotten seriously hurt."
"But still…"
"No, Sherlock," Mycroft chuckled, prodding his brother into the Tardis, "We've been with the Doctor for six weeks and so far haven't had anyone die on our hands. With his track record, I'd say that's pretty good…"
He broke off as he noticed the hurt look that passed the Doctor's face.
"Oh no," Mycroft whispered, "Doctor, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…I wasn't talking about…Rose. I just meant…you usually ended up popping into a war or a fight and sometimes those aliens would end up…"
"I know," the Doctor said, still looking wounded.
"Doctor, I'm really sorry," Mycroft pressed.
"No, you're right," the Doctor hastily said, "Sometimes I cannot prevent it when people are hurt or worse…I would never do anything to intentionally cause it."
Mycroft nodded. After all, that's what the Doctor did. He protected people. He did everything in his power to protect his companions. Even today, he protected Sherlock and Mycroft. Mycroft smiled and headed to the library. In his haste, he had forgotten to properly shelve the books. He didn't want the Doctor to have to do it. One thing would lead to another and he wasn't sure that the Doctor was ready to read his own stories. Mycroft stared down at the volume for a minute longer before shelving it.
"You know," the Doctor said from the doorway, "In our haste to find something to eat that wasn't going to break our arms off, I never asked if you did have any questions."
"Actually, yeah," Mycroft agreed, "Why didn't…?"
He broke off at the sight of the Doctor's face. Once again, the Time Lord looked hurt, as though he already knew what Mycroft was going to ask. Frankly, Mycroft wasn't sure what he wanted to ask. There were so many questions. Why didn't you finish your sentence? Why didn't you save her? Why didn't you burn up two suns? Why didn't you rip apart the universe?
Eventually, Mycroft faltered and finished, "Why didn't you wear a bowtie back then?"
The Doctor cracked a smile and answered, "Bowties weren't cool back then. Now they are cool."
Mycroft laughed and the two returned to the console room. It was only after he was in bed that night, did Mycroft realize why he had changed his question. The Doctor protected everyone else. But sometimes his companions needed to protect him.
Still, Mycroft thought, he wasn't planning on watching anyone die for a while.