The waves crashed at Sherlock's feet. The boy giggled as he danced along the shore.
"Sherlock," Mycroft called, "Don't get too wet."
"I won't," Sherlock promised before a huge wave swept him off his feet. He landed with a crash and Mycroft quickly hurried over.
"I'm fine," Sherlock mumbled, his ears pink.
Mycroft shook his head but kindly helped him to his feet.
"Oi," the Doctor happily cried, "Hurry up! Your mum's sandwiches keep disappearing."
"Wonder why?" Mrs. Holmes teased.
"It's a mystery," the Doctor chuckled, his mouth filled with roast beef.
Mycroft and Sherlock hurried back over the stretch of sand. The Doctor and Mrs. Holmes individually hugged them. Sherlock chuckled and cried, "Thanks, Doctor."
The Time Lord smiled and quietly said, "Perfer et obdura!"
"W…what?" Sherlock asked, pulling back.
"I asked if you wanted roast beef or salami?"
"No," Mycroft softly said, "You…you said…perfer et obdura."
A horrible thought suddenly hit him and he slowly said, "Hang on…that's what you said right before…we crashed."
"Crashed?" Mrs. Holmes repeated, "Whatever are you talking about, love?"
"Mummy's dead!" Sherlock suddenly cried.
Mycroft winced but he realized that it was so. How could he have forgotten? And yet there she was. Mrs. Holmes was beaming at them.
"Mycroft?" Sherlock slowly said, "What's going on?"
Mycroft closed his eyes. He remembered being back in the console room. The Doctor was happily blowing bubbles when the alarms had sounded. The Time Lord had looked frantic before shouting that no matter what happens…to remember the one phrase…
"Perfer et obdura," Mycroft whispered.
He and Sherlock both gasped as they jerked awake. They were lying in a room with sterile white walls and floors. They both clutched their aching heads and groaned as they sat up.
Sherlock was the first to whisper, "What just happened?"
"I don't know," Mycroft nervously admitted, helping his brother to his feet, "But we need to find the Doctor."
"But…he was with us…" Sherlock softly said, "On the beach…with…"
He broke off when he saw his brother's face
"Oh," Sherlock sadly said, "It was a dream, wasn't it?"
"I'm afraid so," Mycroft sadly admitted, "Or an illusion…something…the Doctor warned us…I can't exactly remember but…he said that they were going to trick us. They were going to trick us but so long as we remember the one phrase, we should maintain our bearings."
"Perfer et obdura," Sherlock repeated, "But what does that mean?"
"Hold out and persist," Mycroft gently explained, "It's from the Romen poet, Ovid."
"Of course it is," Sherlock grumbled, "How do you know that?"
"I read," Mycroft remarked, "Come on. Let's…persist."
They slowly went through the door and down a corridor with equally sterile walls and floors. They crept along with Mycroft's hand on Sherlock's shoulder.
"Can you hear that?" Sherlock uncertainly said, "It's like…buzzing."
"Yeah," Mycroft whispered, "What do you suppose it is?"
Sherlock shrugged and they turned the corner. They were in another corridor with twelve doors; six on either side.
"Which one do we go into?" Sherlock asked, trying to survey the situation.
Mycroft reached for one and the door completely dissolved. Sherlock managed to open the second. However, upon running through, he somehow came out the third.
"What?" Mycroft spluttered as both doors dissolved and the first came back.
Sherlock tried the fourth and Mycroft the fifth. They came out the sixth and seventh and all four doors dissolved.
"Alright, focus," Mycroft quietly commanded, "We need to focus."
"That door has a golden handle," Sherlock cried, pointing to the eleventh door, "The others have silver."
"Worth a shot," Mycroft mumbled.
They opened the door and cautiously went in.
"Mycroft! Sherlock!"
The Doctor was against the opposite wall, chained in something similar to a straightjacket. He looked relieved to see them and cried, "Quick! Help me out!"
Mycroft and Sherlock started forward but the floor ahead seemed to suddenly cave in, revealing a deep and menacing trench. The Doctor looked crossed between horrified and angry as he shouted, "Oh no! No! Not now! Boys, listen to me…this isn't real. The floor is still there!"
The two brothers exchanged terrified looks before staring into the trench. It looked pretty real to them.
"We'll find another way over," Mycroft called.
"There's no time," the Doctor yelled, "Please! You have to trust me! The floor is still there. It just looks like it's gone."
"B…but the trench looks so real!" Mycroft burst out.
"I know," the Doctor sadly replied, "I know…But you have to trust me."
"It's illogical!" Sherlock cried, "It's…I can't…Doctor, I can't do this."
The Doctor hung his head and sadly shouted, "Why? Why is it illogical? Because you see something that's not really there? That's not illogical, Sherlock. It's an illusion. An optical illusion, that's made to trick you. Don't let it. Don't let it trick you. You're smarter than that; the both of you are. You're brilliant. Don't trust your senses. Trust me. Close your eyes."
Mycroft squeezed Sherlock's hand and both brothers complied.
"Now take a step," the Doctor coaxed, "Don't worry. I'm not going to let you fall."
Sherlock faltered, making a whimpering noise akin to a wounded animal.
"Sherlock Holmes," the Doctor quietly said, "Listen to me. I'm not going to let you fall. I am not going to let you fall!"
His passionate words rebounded around the entire room.
They took one step. And then another. They put one foot in front of the other and walked in the darkness. Amazingly, the world didn't fall out from beneath them.
"Okay. It's okay. I'm here. Open your eyes before you crash into the wall."
They opened their eyes and saw that the Doctor was beaming down at them. The brothers quickly helped him out of the straightjacket and he hugged them.
"That was the most terrifying thing that I've ever done," Mycroft weakly admitted.
Sherlock nodded, too tightlipped to verbally agree.
The Doctor looked intrigued and thoughtfully asked, "The most terrifying thing? You have seen Daleks, Weeping Angels, dozens of murderous aliens and you two think that the most terrifying thing is being betrayed by your senses?"
"The most terrifying thing is having to throw logic and reasoning away," Sherlock softly whispered. "After all, it's…it is one thing to try and understand why a box can be bigger on the inside. But this is different…it's not there…we saw something and it's not there…not real."
"I'm sorry," the Doctor sincerely said, hugging them even tighter, "I'm so sorry."
"We're going to have to walk back across, aren't we?" Sherlock asked.
"I'm afraid so," the Doctor sadly replied, "And I'm also afraid that it's not going to get any better. They're going to try and trick you. But there's one thing that you have that you didn't when you came over here."
"What's that?"
The Doctor looked fierce as he said, "Me."
"Perfer et obdura," Sherlock shakily said.
"Precisely," the Doctor boomed, "Mind your step now."
Sherlock stood close to the Doctor, who kept one hand on each brother's shoulder as they made their way across. The brothers kept their eyes open, chuckling out of fear and amazement as they walked across a trench.
"There we are," the Doctor pleasantly said as they reached the door.
They entered the corridor and realized that the other doors had disappeared. When pointing this out to the Doctor, the Time Lord smiled and said, "Of course. Because you realized that this door was real. There was no need to keep tricking you."
"Who's tricking us?" Mycroft demanded.
"I haven't the faintest," the Doctor worriedly admitted.
"Where's the Tardis?" Sherlock asked.
"I don't know that either," the Doctor sighed.
"How did you get on the wall?" Mycroft hopefully asked, "Perhaps you can mentally retrace your steps?"
"I was knocked unconscious," the Doctor admitted, "As soon as I exited the Tardis…you don't remember that?"
"We remember crashing," Mycroft glumly said, "And then…"
"Then we were picnicking with you and Mummy," Sherlock softly said.
"You were…what?"
Sherlock shrugged and simply said, "We were on a beach. Obviously, it wasn't real…"
"It was a pretty powerful illusion," Mycroft admitted, "They must have wanted to distract us long enough to tie you up."
"But it's weird," Sherlock suddenly said, "We were asleep…so it was a like a dream…I barely remember it…"
The Doctor grimaced and explained, "Wherever we are…whoever is doing this…they can get inside your heads. Don't let them. They can see your thoughts and your worst fears. They see what you don't ever want to see and they make you see it. Try to resist."
"Is that what that buzzing is?" Sherlock asked.
"Oh good," the Doctor cheerfully said, "You hear it too?"
They reached the end of the corridor and went through another door. This corridor forked into three sections.
"Let's split up," the Doctor suggested, "We can each go down a separate corridor."
The brothers nervously agreed.
"Remember," the Doctor quietly said, "If anything happens…it's not real. Trust nothing except each other and me."
Mycroft took a deep breath and took the right corridor.
He nervously crept along, looking for anything out of place.
"Mycroft, love!"
The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he spun around. His mother was standing behind him. She looked…she looked absolutely amazing. There were no traces that she had ever been sick. She was beautiful. She was smiling. She wasn't real.
"I've missed you. I've missed you so much…"
"You're not real," Mycroft muttered, "You aren't real. This is an illusion."
"Mycroft…"
Mycroft closed his eyes, calling for the Doctor.
"I love you, Mycroft."
"DOCTOR!"
Mycroft repeated his scream and this time he heard running footsteps. The Doctor grabbed his shoulders and cried, "Mycroft, what is it? What did you see?"
"Mum," Mycroft managed.
The Doctor cupped his face and gently said, "Mycroft, look at me. Open your eyes."
"That's alright," Mycroft slowly said, "You know…I think that…I'm just going to keep my eyes shut…for the rest of…my life."
The Doctor smiled and coaxingly said, "Mycroft…"
Mycroft sighed before opening his eyes. He gave a sigh of relief when he realized that it was just him and the Doctor. The Time Lord gave him the kindest of smiles and asked, "Better?"
"Better," Mycroft sheepishly said, "Where's Sherlock?"
Sherlock was continuing to go down the left corridor. Quite abruptly, the floor crumbled away all around him, save for the sliver that he was standing on. Sherlock faltered. He tried to logically tell himself that it was just like the last time. It wasn't real. It couldn't be real.
And yet…
"Doctor!" Sherlock nervously called, "DOCTOR!"
Mycroft turned the corner and impatiently cried, "Sherlock, come on."
"But…it's…" Sherlock tried to explain, "I…I can't."
"You're being ridiculous," Mycroft scoffed, "Look, there's nothing there!"
He started forward before suddenly plummeting into the deep abyss.
"MYCROFT!" Sherlock shrieked, "MYCROFT! DOCTOR, HELP! HELP!"
The Doctor skidded around the corner, frantically asking, "What is it? What's wrong?"
"Mycroft," Sherlock gasped, tears streaming down his cheeks, "He…he…he fell."
"Sherlock," the Doctor patiently explained, "He couldn't have fallen."
Sherlock's voice cracked as he hysterically stammered, "He fell! He fell! He fell!"
"No, no…It's just an illusion. Look…"
"No!" Sherlock frantically cried, "Don't! Please, don't!"
"It's okay," the Doctor said with a kind smile.
And he kept that kind smile, even as he plunged after Mycroft.
Sherlock closed his eyes and screamed. His entire body shivered and he grabbed at his curls as he continued to shriek and shriek.
"Sherlock!? Sherlock, what is it? What's wrong? Sherlock!"
Somebody gently but firmly grabbed his shoulders. Sherlock's scream intensified and he tried to desperately pull away.
"Sherlock, it's okay. It's me. It's the Doctor."
Sherlock hesitantly opened his eyes. Sure enough, he was able to see that the Time Lord was standing in front of him, looking extremely concerned.
"You…you didn't fall?" Sherlock squeaked.
"What?"
Sherlock fearfully glanced around him and saw that the trench was still there.
"It's just an illusion," the Doctor gently explained, "The floor's still there. I ran right across it to get to you. It's an illusion. Just like before."
"No," Sherlock weakly said, "You…you…you fell. You and Mycroft…I…I watched…"
He closed his eyes and saw it, over and over again.
His brother and the Doctor falling…
Sherlock couldn't help it. He began to softly cry.
"Hey, hey, hey," the Doctor whispered, pulling him into a tight hug, "It's okay. Oh, please don't cry. Don't! It's okay, Sherlock. Don't cry. Ssshh…sssh. Don't cry. I can assure you that it wasn't real. Hush, now. I'm fine. Mycroft's perfectly fine. There, there. It's okay."
But Sherlock couldn't stop crying. Like most children, he had worked himself up to a point of no return. So the Doctor tightly hugged him until he could recompose himself.
"I'm sorry," Sherlock blubbered, finally pulling back.
"Don't be," the Doctor kindly said.
It hurt the Time Lord's two hearts to see Sherlock so upset. He pulled out a handkerchief and caringly wiped Sherlock's eyes.
"Doctor," Sherlock stammered, "I'm scared."
The Doctor gently pulled him up and carried him back across the trench. Sherlock shivered and gasped, practically choking the Doctor.
"It's okay," the Doctor assuredly said, "I'm not going to let you fall."
Sherlock buried his face in the Doctor's shoulder and mumbled something.
"What was that?"
"Don't tell Mycroft," Sherlock pleaded, "Please!"
"I won't," the Doctor assured him, "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Sherlock mumbled though he was bright red.
"Hey," the Doctor kindly said, "There's no need to be embarrassed."
"But I was scared," Sherlock mumbled, "I was crying like a bloody tot."
The Doctor, if possible, held him even tighter and gently continued, "Don't be embarrassed for being scared, Sherlock. I get scared all the time."
"Really?" Sherlock asked, wiping his eyes.
"Really," the Doctor repeated with a smile, "Now, come along."
Sherlock was brave enough to step down and walk alongside him, though the Doctor still put his arm around his shoulders.
"What happened?" Mycroft gasped, when they finally reached him, "Sherlock, have you been crying? What's wrong?"
"Everything's fine," the Doctor calmly replied.
"But…"
"Everything's fine," the Doctor repeated in a much firmer tone.
Mycroft understood and nodded. A silent conversation passed between the two. Mycroft worriedly jerked his head towards Sherlock and the Doctor sadly nodded. Mycroft looked worried but the Doctor raised his head slightly and smiled, silently assuring him that his brother was fine and didn't want to be harassed. The Doctor then tilted his head, silently asking the eldest Holmes brother if he was alright. Mycroft nodded, though he looked uncertain.
"Okay," the Doctor quietly said, "Let's crack on, shall we?"
They nervously went down the corridor. At the end was a magnificent looking door.
The Doctor hesitated before asking, "Perhaps I'll go in first?"
"Alright," Mycroft softly agreed as Sherlock nodded.
The Doctor opened the door and quickly slipped into the room.
"Well?" Mycroft called, "Doctor? Are you alright?"
They didn't hear an answer and anxiously entered the room.
"What the…?" Sherlock gasped.
Along the one wall was a series of buttons and levers. The brothers barely paid those any mind as they found themselves staring at a glass panel. Behind it, separated from them, was a frantic looking Doctor. But there wasn't just one…
"Mycroft?"
"Sherlock?"
"Mycroft! Sherlock!"
"Hello, boys."
"Boys, it's me."
"No! Don't listen to them."
"I'm the Doctor."
"I'M THE DOCTOR."
"Oh no," Sherlock groaned.
The seven Time Lords were beating against the glass, trying to get to them.
"Six of them aren't real," Mycroft muttered, "One of them is. Which one?"
"What is your opinion about bowties?" Sherlock screamed.
"BOWTIES ARE COOL!"
Sherlock flinched at the seven responses.
"What do we do?" Mycroft gasped, "Doctor…what…what do we do?"
He was met with a mixture of jumbled and excited answers.
"Push the button."
"Pull the lever."
"Hit that button."
"Touch that panel."
"STOP!" Mycroft screamed, "Just STOP!"
They continued to shout.
"Believe me, Mycroft!"
"It's okay."
"Boys, it's going to be okay."
"Trust me."
"Trust me!"
"I'M THE DOCTOR!"
Sherlock and Mycroft backed away from the glass, both terrified.
"Let's smash the glass!" Sherlock suggested, "They can't really touch us, can they?"
"I don't know," Mycroft uncertainly said, "Mum couldn't but…"
"Mum?" Sherlock asked.
Mycroft hastily continued, "I'm not sure that it's the best idea."
"Do you have a better one?" Sherlock argued, "They're all trying to get to us!"
"You…you're right!" Mycroft cried, "That's it, Sherlock. That's the answer."
"What is?" Sherlock asked, slightly frustrated that he couldn't see it.
Mycroft cleared his throat and cried, "Doctor, listen…you always tell us to trust you and we do. We trust you. But you need to trust me! If you're really the Doctor…if you're really our Doctor…step back. Don't try to get to us. Don't do anything."
Six of the Doctors still scratched against the glass, screaming their names and instructions to follow. The seventh Doctor—the Doctor—calmly stepped back. His eyes blazed with emotion—fury that he was trapped, fear that Mycroft and Sherlock were alone, sadness over the fact that they were in this situation, pride over the fact that they had figured it out, trust in the brothers, and about twelve-hundred more years of emotion.
"Doctor," Mycroft softly said, "Doctor…"
The illusions began to disappear and the Doctor—the real Doctor—smiled.
"Mycroft Holmes," the Doctor proudly said, "You are brilliant."
"Yeah," Sherlock laughed, "Definitely the Doctor."
"You're brilliant too, Sherlock," the Doctor sincerely added, "Now, push that blue button. That's it. Very good…now…"
The glass dissolved and he scooped them into another hug.
"Alright," Mycroft mumbled, "I've had just about enough of this puzzle."
"So have I," Sherlock agreed, "Can we just go back to the Tardis?"
"Sherlock Holmes," the Doctor gently said, "You've been my companion for almost six months. You should know that we never run away from a fight."
"I know," Sherlock defensively said, "I was just…"
He guiltily stared at the door and muttered, "Sorry."
"That's quite alright," the Doctor pleasantly said, "No, we need to face this. We don't even know who is doing this."
"Good!" Sherlock burst out, "I don't want to know! I don't want to know who could be behind this! Can't you see, Doctor? I'm afraid! I'm scared and I rarely admit that! All I can think about is whatever horrid person or alien or animal could be doing this! I just…I don't want to…"
"Sherlock, take it easy," the Doctor cried, baffled.
"NO!" Sherlock shouted, wrenching away as Mycroft went to comfort him, "I DON'T WANT TO EVEN THINK ABOUT IT! I DON'T LIKE THIS! STOP!"
All at once, a panel opened to their left. They briefly saw the Tardis before a woman stepped out. She had a humungous head with veins that eerily pulsed.
"The Tardis," the Doctor cheerfully cried.
"A scary woman!" Mycroft added.
"Right," the Doctor gasped, stepping in front of the brothers, "Who are you?"
The woman smirked and though she didn't speak, they could hear her perfectly:
I am what the little boy fears the most.
Sherlock hid behind Mycroft and the Doctor quietly said, "Telekinesis. Intriguing. I suppose that you've been focusing on the boys and not me?"
Naturally. I prey on the fears of children.
"I'm not…I'm not technically a child," Mycroft mumbled.
Regardless. Your mind, however mature, is still youthful enough to manipulate.
The Doctor looked fierce as he whispered, "Yeah? You enjoy manipulating a person's thoughts? You enjoy getting into their minds?"
He stepped forward and suddenly banged his forehead against hers. The woman gave a loud shriek and stumbled backwards. She clutched her head and gave a retched hiss. The Doctor stumbled backwards and Mycroft tried to catch him. He wasn't strong enough and the two flew back into Sherlock, all landing in a heap.
They stood up and the Doctor took a deep breath.
"Are you okay?" Mycroft asked, shocked.
"Yeah," the Doctor gasped, "I just gave her all of my thoughts, all of my fears, and all of my knowledge…and got a bit of hers…A little exchange…"
The woman collapsed against the wall, still screaming with pain.
The Doctor grimly continued, "She is skilled with telekinesis. She even had enough power to get into the Tardis and cause the functions to go haywire. That's why we crashed. She knocked the two of you out and put you into a dream-like illusion."
"The picnic with Mummy?" Sherlock softly asked.
The Doctor nodded and continued, "She took me and trapped me against the wall. That's where I woke up. And the rest was simply a sick game."
"But why?" Mycroft asked.
"She was bored," the Doctor quietly explained, "She wanted to have some fun."
"For somebody who can get into people's minds, she isn't that smart," Sherlock quietly spoke up, "She still fell for my bluff."
The Doctor and Mycroft both turned, surprised.
"What?" Sherlock asked.
"You were bluffing?" Mycroft asked, dumbfounded.
"Well…yes," Sherlock softly said, "Not all of it. I really was afraid when the floor collapsed around me and I saw…"
He shivered before rapidly continuing, "And I really didn't know what to do when we had to figure out which Doctor was which. But after that, I realized that we needed to get to the person behind this. So I made it my worst fear. I screamed that I didn't want to. And she thought that it would be…fun…to contradict that."
The Doctor laughed and cried, "Sherlock Holmes! You are brilliant!"
He hugged the beaming boy before saying, "Alright. Let's go."
"Go where?" Sherlock asked.
"The Tardis," the Doctor cried, "It's time to leave."
"What about her?" Mycroft asked with disgust, staring at the woman on the floor.
"She has about twelve-hundred years of thoughts to sift through," the Doctor dryly explained, "She's going to be busy for a while."
Sherlock frowned before muttering, "She'll never be bored again."
Author's Note: I've had the idea for this chapter for several months. I really wanted one that would test Sherlock and Mycroft's mind and senses. A Hounds of Baskerville scenario where they don't know what's real and what's not. And as you can see, it really messes with them. Especially Sherlock. He bluffs at the end, but for the majority of the chapter, he really was scared and confused. He couldn't trust anything. To the point where he saw what he thought was his real brother and the real Doctor fall. (Too cruel? Probably.)
Anyway, I do have another short segment that's right around this time. Honestly, it could even be later that day, when they go to bed.
"Alright," the Doctor cheerfully said, "It's been a long day. Off to bed."
Sherlock obediently followed but Mycroft stayed behind. The Doctor tenderly tucked the youngest Holmes brother in before going over to ruffle Mycroft's hair. He then realized that the bed was empty.
"Mycroft?"
The Doctor spun around and called, "Mycroft?"
He bent down, glancing beneath the bed, "Mycroft?"
Sherlock giggled and exclaimed, "He didn't come back. He stayed in the console room."
The Doctor frowned and went down the corridor. Sure enough, Mycroft was still standing next to the console.
"All right?"
"Fine," Mycroft assured him.
"Well then, come along!"
"Do I really have to go to bed?" Mycroft wearily sighed, "I mean, honestly…don't you think that I'm a bit old for a bedtime?"
The Doctor looked slightly surprised by the comment.
Mycroft flushed and awkwardly continued, "I'm not a child, Doctor."
"I never said…"
"You always say it," Mycroft corrected with a wry smile, "You always refer to us as 'children' or 'the boys'. But I'm…not…"
The Doctor smirked and asked, "Not a boy?"
"You know what I mean."
"Alright, alright," the Doctor teased, "PG-13 movies for you. But don't you dare rent anything stronger than that. Especially if Jack recommends it—"
Mycroft laughed and exclaimed, "Doctor, I'm just saying…I'm fifteen."
"And I'm twelve-hundred," the Doctor said with a grin, "If you're looking to compare ages to maturity, you're not giving me a very good argument."
Mycroft frowned and exasperatedly said, "Doctor, come on! I mean, bloody hell…I'm only four years younger than Rose when she first became your companion!"
The smile quickly melted from the Doctor's face.
"Doctor?" Mycroft squeaked, realizing that he might have gone too far.
The Doctor didn't say anything and instead turned to the console.
"Okay," Mycroft weakly said, "You know…I'm rather tired after all and I think that I'm just going to turn in so…Goodnight."
He didn't answer and Mycroft quickly slipped into the bedroom. He sighed and sat on his bed. It was still too early. He laid back and tried to close his eyes. Any chances of getting to sleep were immediately dissolved as the door crashed open.
"You idiot!" River cried, "What were you thinking?"
"I'm sorry," Mycroft immediately said as Sherlock jerked awake.
"Listen, Mycroft," River sharply said, "You've been here for nearly six months and there are a few things that you should have picked up: You don't bring up the fact that you're getting older and you don't bring up previous companions. Comparing your age to a previous companion is definitely out of the question!"
"I'm sorry," Mycroft sincerely cried, "I'm really sorry, River."
"Don't apologize to me," River curtly remarked, "Apologize to him."
"Apologize to whom?" Sherlock drowsily asked, "What?"
River managed to smile and gently said, "Nothing, Sherlock. Go back to sleep."
"Okay," Sherlock yawned, settling back against his pillow.
River kissed his forehead before prodding Mycroft out of the bedroom.
"What? I don't get a goodnight kiss?"
"You wanted to be treated like an adult," River reprimanded as they walked down the corridor, "Adults don't need others to come and give them a goodnight kiss. Well, that's not quite true. The Doctor still frequently visits my prison cell to…"
"Alright," Mycroft quickly interrupted.
"Oh, you're an adult," River said with a smile, "We don't need to censor our conversations around you anymore. Wait until you hear Jack openly speak!"
"River, I'm sorry," Mycroft repeated.
"You should be," River coolly said, "Off you go now."
She pushed him into the console room and hit her vortex manipulator, vanishing.
The Doctor glanced at him, clearly surprised, and slowly said, "Hello?"
"Doctor, I'm really sorry!" Mycroft cried, "I don't know how I can ever…"
"It's fine, Mycroft," the Doctor chuckled, "Come here!"
Mycroft gratefully stepped forward and the Time Lord pulled him into a hug.
"I know that you're older," the Doctor gently said, "And you are quite mature for your age. And you have faced so much…You certainly are not a child."
"Thanks," Mycroft mumbled, pulling back.
"However," the Doctor sheepishly continued, "No matter how old you get, I'm still going to look after you. I'm still going to hug you. And when you finally go to bed, I'm still going to say goodnight and ruffle your hair."
Mycroft chuckled and said, "Deal."
"But until then," the Doctor added, "You're welcome to stay up with me.'
Mycroft appreciatively smiled and joined the Doctor at the console.
"Just remember something, Mycroft," the Doctor seriously said, "There's a difference between being mature and being boring. Don't ever be boring. That's the worst thing that you can grow up to be. Boring. You can grow up but you still need to remember to have fun."
"I know, Doctor."
"I'm quite serious, Mycroft," the Doctor gently said, turning to face him, "Since I met you and Sherlock, I've worked hard to make sure that you know just how amazing and brilliant you can be. Growing up doesn't negate that. You can grow up but please…don't grow up to be somebody that you despise. Don't grow up to be…"
"What?" Mycroft quietly said.
The Doctor hesitated and Mycroft sighed, "Just say it."
"Don't grow up to be your father," the Doctor softly said.
"I won't," Mycroft immediately said.
"Please."
"I won't!" Mycroft assured him.
The Doctor still looked uncertain, prompting Mycroft to cry out, "Doctor, if there's anyone that I want to grow up to be…it's you! Alright?"
The Doctor looked incredibly touched at that. He beamed and turned to the console before sadly saying, "We'll see…"
Author's Note: That is perhaps the saddest part of this whole story…the Doctor has done his best to prove that Sherlock and Mycroft are brilliant. He has done his best to make sure that they realize just how brilliant they are. But beyond that, he has done his best to try and crack the shell that Sherlock lives in. And he has tried his best to help Mycroft realize that no matter how many responsibilities you may have, you can still have fun. And right now in this story, even though there are still some setbacks, the boys…ahem…the boy and teenager…are not the same that they were in the beginning of the story. They have progressed so much. Unfortunately, if you're paying attention, you might be thinking, 'This Sherlock and Mycroft are great but they aren't the Sherlock and Mycroft in the series.' You would be right. The Doctor has done so much for him. And they, in turn, have done so much for him; without even realizing it. They love one another and they are happy. And…that's not going to last. Because in just a few chapters (two actually) something is going to happen that causes all of that work, all of that love, and all of that happiness to shatter. It's actually really hard because I write Sherlock excitedly gushing about how happy he is during Parent's Day and I know that it's out-of-character. It's supposed to be out-of-character. And I write Mycroft exclaiming that he wants to be like the Doctor and I know that he's not going to be. In thirty-four chapters and six months, I have transformed these characters. And in a matter of two or three chapters, I'm going to transform them again. They're going to be back in character soon enough. And that is the sad part.
Then again…spoilers.