After placing the disc into a lockable drawer of his desk, which was pointless really considering both Irene and Sherlock would be able to pick the lock, he sighed, pulled himself out of his chair and headed back to Sherlock's room. It was late and if his brother was still lying on the couch he ought to be woken up and moved into his bed. The couch was not a comfortable place to sleep, not that Sherlock did a lot of that anyway. Though he did considerably a lot more than he used to. A lot more nightmares too.

Molly was asleep in her chair, Irene had thrown a blanket over her while she quietly watched a soap opera. She glanced at Mycroft upon his arrival, noting the bags and the attempt to wipe away dried tear stains under his eyes, his still clenching fists and basically his overall demeanour. Whatever had been on the dvd had not been pleasant. "Everything all right?" She whispered, turning off the TV. He nodded and gently shook Molly's shoulders. "Time to sleep in your own room, Miss Hooper, you too Miss Adler." He waited until they both stood, Irene's eyes quietly asking questions to which Mycroft refused to answer.

"Sleep well"

Once they had left, he walked towards his little brother and removed his blanket. It was cruel but he really should be sleeping in his bed. Mycroft hadn't slept in his own bed for weeks. Tonight was to be no exception, so Sherlock needed to move, because Mycroft required the couch to sleep on. He gently shook Sherlock, who groaned and swatted at him. "Come on Sherlock, it's time to wake up". Two pale eyes stared up at him blearily, very confused. "What time is it?" He yawned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "Time for you to go to bed"

"But.. I was just sleeping.."

"On the couch, if I meant it was time for you to go to sleep on the couch, I would have said, time to go to couch Sherlock. But I didn't. I said bed. Which is where you will go" Wow, Mycroft was in one of his moods tonight. Wonderful. "Right...ok" No arguments from Sherlock, unnatural, I don't like it, thought Mycroft as he watched his baby brother unsteadily stand and make his way to his bed. Mycroft waited until Sherlock was in bed before taking off his dressing gown and shoes and lying down on the couch.

"What happened?" The question was uncertain, as if the asker felt strange about inquiring, as if he wasn't used to asking such a question. "What makes you think something has happened?" Sherlock switched off the lamp on his bedside table. "Well.. you don't seem to be in a good mood.."

"I'm not"

"You, don't want to tell me?"

"You don't need to know Sherlock. I just saw something, unsettling thats all"

"Oh. It's cold"

"Yes, funny that. Considering it's Winter"

"Wow. Um...I should probably shut up then." Mycroft might bite my head off if I say something else. He heard a sigh. "I'm sorry Sherlock, goodnight"

"Goodnight Myc"

He wouldn't shut up. Why wouldn't he shut up? He'd been playing loud music for hours. It was driving Sebastian up the wall. It was three o'clock in the bloody morning, Jim may not sleep sometimes but he sodding did! Pulling on his grey dressing gown Sebastian picked up his hand gun and headed towards Jim's bedroom.

The psychopath was lazing in his bed, in his initialed black, skull patterned pyjamas, listening to some stupid classical song, at the highest possible volume. "What are you doing? Do you know what bloody time it is!" Jim turned and smiled, pressing a button on the remote. "Oh, evening Seb!" He patted at a spot on his bed. "No, I'm not bloody sitting down. It's past three A.M. I have a job tomorrow. Will you shut off your sodding music!"

"No"

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to"

"Well then maybe I should just turn off the sodding power."

"I have it on my iPod"

"Then listen to it that way! I'm trying to sleep!"

"Aw, look at you, my poor Sebby, you're so cute when you're angry" Sebastian was positively fuming. "I'm not your poor anything! ." Jim shrugged and switched it off. Sebastian could be very over dramatic sometimes. He was just relaxing. But he needed his sniper. Best let him get some sleep. "There, happy? Now come and sleep with me"

"God no"

"..Thats not really what I was implying this time.."

"Oh, really? Jim Moriarty decided to not flirt with something or someone today? What a surprise! Call the Press!"

"You really are in a mood."

"No shit Jim! I have to shoot three people in the morning, I need my sleep! My boss is off his rocker, obsessing over a bloody cracked up detective, our money is going down the drain and your "magnificent" empire is being picked to pieces, bit by bit. I seem to be the only one who cares, so excuse me if I'm in a bad, bloody, mood!" Sebastian about faced and stormed off leaving a very confused but mostly unconcerned Jim, who responded by whistling. "Wow, good thing he's a guy, I don't think I could handle the PMS"

The room was dark and cold. Mycroft shivered and his made his way out and down a never-ending hallway. It seemed to sway side to side, a door could be seen at the very end. But every time he got close to it, it moved further away from him.

Finally he drew close enough to open it. To see Sherlock. In his patented coat and scarf. He regarded Mycroft with a bemused look. "What do you want?" He sneered. "You, I've been looking for you." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "How's the diet?" Mycroft sighed. "Fine. Now, will you come with me?"

"No"

'Why not? I've been searching for you for ages" Sherlock shrugged. "It's too late"

"What do you mean?"

"It's too late to save me" Mycroft took a step back. "It's not too late, don't say such stupid things" Sherlock grinned wickedly and stepped closer to Mycroft. "It's too late, brother dear. You lost me. It's time to face facts. You are and always have been a terrible older brother. You gave me advice that led to me being friendless, you abandoned me and I turned to drugs" The closer Sherlock got, the further away Mycroft stepped. He was tongue tied. Dreams were sort of annoying like that.

"And then I finally get a friend and you had to ruin that too didn't you? You let out Jim Moriarty with everything he needed to bring me down. And then I died. But it was all right, cause I got better!" Sherlock was in full sarcasm mode. "And then, ooh then what happened? You let him catch me again, didn't you. And then you let him break me because you didn't get there soon enough. Now all you can do is moan about the fact that I'm different. You want the old me back. Well I have some bad news about that, I'm afraid. You can't. The old me is dead. Learn to live with what you've done Mycroft. You did this to me, you always do this to me."

"No"

"You. Failed. Me"

"No, I did not and I will get you back!"

"You lost. You failed."

"Wrong again Sherlock. I can fix this!"

"All your fault. Everything. Does it make you feel powerful? Knowing the pain and suffering you've caused your little brother?" Sherlock began to morph into the smiling face of Jim Moriarty. "Did you like finding him like that?" Mycroft found his feet once again and ran towards Jim. He raised his hands towards the other's neck, only for his hands to go right through him and for the criminal to poof into a puff of grey smoke. And appear behind him.

"Oh, naughty naughty! And you call me the monster? I think you have the two of us confused. You failed your dear baby brother and you know you are to blame. Quit blaming someone else. You can't bring back what was lost. It's gone, I destroyed it. You destroyed it. Get over it. Learn to live with it. And have fun explaining it to John when the time comes. Oh hi there, Doctor Watson, your best friend is alive but I'm afraid he was captured by his worst enemy and he ripped apart his soul. I was distracted at the time. Terribly sorry."

Mycroft fumed but felt helpless, Jim laughed with joyous abandon. "I'd pay to see that. Good bye Mycroft. It's been fun!"

Mycroft sat upright, panting and sweating. With a hand against his chest, it took several deep breaths before his heart rate was under control. A glass of water was thrust into his hands. "Are you alright?" His brother's face looked concerned.

"You should be sleeping"

"You woke me up."

"Ah.. apologies" Mycroft gladly sipped the liquid. "What were you dreaming about? You kept calling my name. Like you couldn't find me." Mycroft shook his head, ignoring the worried look he wasn't used to seeing. "Just a nightmare. Doesn't matter. Thank you for the water and go back to sleep. I'll be fine in the morning" Sherlock looked unconvinced but headed back to his bed. "Just because you keep saying that doesn't make it true" He whispered.

"Goodnight Sherlock"

"Goodnight Myc" Again.