It could be said that Mycroft Holmes had never slept better in his life. Mycroft would probably never say such a thing out loud, but if he ever were to be would not be lying. He found himself wishing he hadn't sent John away. He dressed swiftly, letting himself dare to believe that John might've stayed if he had.
He found John in the kitchen, sinking a biscuit into a cold glass. What a curious thing. Mycroft was smiling.
"Hello Mycroft," John smiled.
Mycroft paused. That was a thing John hadn't done in awhile either.
"What is it?" John asked.
"You're smiling," Mycroft said.
John popped another biscuit into his mouth. He hadn't much felt like smiling since Sherlock. He didn't have much by way of companions. Sure, there were war buddies. But they had their own lives. Families. The people from before the war had moved on as well. But since he was injured, since he came home, it had been Sherlock and the people who orbited him. Sherlock was his best friend.
"I'm happy," John said, and it was the truth.
It took him a long time to be okay with that. It felt like a betrayal, the first time Mycroft had dropped by and brought a thrill in his wake. He revived John. The cases were a nice return to routine. Mycroft needed John, and John needed Mycroft.
John had soon realized he couldn't go through life pretending only one person has ever cared for him. Especially a person who admitted he could not care for anyone, and had exactly one friend. A worrisome thing, to have only one friend.
John frowned.
Not a problem any more.
Mycroft returned from the kitchen with his slice of cake. John was frowning again, he noticed. To cheer someone up? Mycroft wasn't very good with people he didn't need to impress. That mask was easy. That mask was practiced.
"I slept well last night, thank you," Mycroft said.
John smiled at him.
"Magic fingers," he said.
Job well done.
"You were good for him," Mycroft said.
"We weren't together," John said quickly, "He wasn't… I don't.."
Mycroft laughed.
"I know my brother as well as you do, John, "he said, " but you were good for him."
John nodded solemnly.
And for a week Mycroft didn't try to bring it up again.
"Are you planning to return home at any point?" Mycroft asked.
John smiled faintly.
"I don't quite think that's home anymore," he said.
Mycroft nodded.
"I'm glad," he said.