E061313, 061713 Sorry for the extra alert, some minor changes and additions. About 90 extra story words. If you've already reviewed chap2 and have comments feel free to PM me instead.

So Part1, 1 community, 2 faves, 3 reviews and 4 followers. Seriously, it makes me grin madly to check story stats and know I didn't totally mess up when writing this. Thanks for showing interest!

Sorry, this one's a little shorter...

Unneeded – Mycroft age 16

Mycroft stood in the receiving room, off the entrance hall to the manor, looking out the bay windows into the lush sunlit yard that graced the property. The sun played across the exquisitely landscaped gardens leaving dappled green leaves and bright flowers to be viewed. It was a view he'd become accustomed to over long years spent playing amongst the range of foliage and it held no interest to him. He would be heading off soon to move his things into his new University dorm and there was one more matter that needed to be tended to before he could take his leave of the place that had been his home for the last sixteen years. That matter was what held his full attention despite his looking elsewhere.

"Come now, dear brother, you've been sitting there for some time. If it's your intention to be here to see me off you will have to speak to me eventually." He hadn't turned from the window as he addressed the room's other occupant.

A quiet scoff was heard from behind him. It was the first sound the other had made since he'd entered almost three-quarters of an hour ago; an astonishing feat of unusual silence. Normally it would be hard to shut his little brother up.

"I'm not here to see you off. I'm here cause Mummy asked me to be." Sherlock's young voice held the tone children everywhere could use when faced with the response of 'please, little one, just for me?'. Contempt for a situation they wished to avoid coupled with resignation to obey the one they loved. It was a tone he'd heard often though usually it was directed at another on behalf of a request he had made to Sherlock. To hear it now in regard to Sherlock being in his presence was jarring.

Mycroft turned then to look at his younger brother. Sherlock was fidgeting idly as he sat, crumbling a cookie from the tea-tray, looking everywhere but at him. The tea itself sat untouched, long since cooled during the disregard of its presence. "Well then, while you're here won't you at least say goodbye to me? I will be leaving soon, little brother." He attempted to bridge the gap that seemed to have formed between them.

Sherlock's eye flashed to him as his face flickered with something bearing a resemblance to sorrow before he smoothed his features into a neutral look and turned away from him once more. As useful a talent as it would be in the future he regretted often teaching Sherlock to manage his facial features in such a manner.

Mycroft could only sigh. "It's not like if you say goodbye I'll never return, Sherlock, and I've given you my number. You only have to call if you need me. I'll be available each day if you wish to talk."

Sherlock burst up from his seat then, his usual manic energy showing in sharp hand gestures and wildly swinging arms. "Just go and leave already! You're always off with your projects and stupid friends anyway. Me an' Mummy don't need you now and we won't when you're gone either." His face was twisted in what resembled hatred but his eyes were bright and wet with unshed tears. He raced from the room as the first began to fall, his hands already moving to hide them. It was a futile gesture but one that could not be helped.

Mycroft made no move to follow him, merely turning back to the window he'd been looking out of. His words were whisper quiet. "Perhaps you don't need me. That doesn't mean I don't need you. I'll always return little brother; you'll see how much I need you both."

He sighed again and slipped his jacket on, heading toward the front door. He had kept his driver waiting long enough. He stopped short at the door and picked up his umbrella from the stand. On a day like today it felt like it should be raining.

Review? Good? Not good? Was the dialogue ok? I'm really not fond of writing conversations.
Yes, the umbrella made another appearance. Is it Mycroft if he doesn't have one? And Sherlock was destroying the cookies, typical disregard for the idea of eating them when faced with a problem...

W04/25/13, 04/27/13, E060313, 060413, 061313, 061713