Fade to black

Chapter 2

Mycroft made his way home, the walk did him good and admittedly it was the only exercise he got in the last few days. He didn't worry about that anymore, it didn't matter. Since his kitchen was empty he decided on take out for some dinner as well and since he didn't need to check his diet he decided to get some ice-cream for desert as well. A little indulgence every now and then does have its privileges. The whole evening the day's event played in his mind and he couldn't help but smile when he saw Sherlock with Rosie, it was the same smile he got when he saw the family video them at a beach. He lifted his arms and looked down, he couldn't remember the last time he hugged his brother - and holding him up when he was dragging him out of a drug den doesn't count. He really wished he could hug his brother one last time, to feel him in his arms and know he is going to be all right.

Since he had nothing to do, he thought he should get an early night, he hasn't slept well since everything came tumbling down. His brother seemed genuinely surprised that he wasn't in the Trust, he has his own now. Not really but he did took his share and put it separate, he is not sure what to do with it, half is definitely going to Anthea, she deserves it after all these years, he really felt bad that he couldn't greet her properly, maybe he can ask Lady Smallwood. The other half... some charity maybe. He still has a few days to decide. He must have fallen asleep somewhere during the night because when he opened his eyes it was daylight and his phone was ringing. Lady Smallwood.

"Lady Smallwood." He greeted his voice firm and awake after years of practice he was still skilled.

"Good morning Mycroft. I am sorry for calling you in your off time, but I need some help with a situation."

"Anything, do you want me to come in?" He frowned; situation has several meaning and all of them not well, not if she called him in. He, who no longer has the security clearance to help.

"If you wouldn't mind my private office." They both knew which one she meant, he closed his eyes a feeling of dread settling in his stomach.

"I will be there shortly." They hang up without saying goodbye and Mycroft got ready, for the first time in several days he put on his three piece suit, whatever the problem, he needed his full armor. Picking his umbrella he looked at himself in the nearby mirror, Mycroft Holmes was ready for whatever he needed to do. To his surprise when he opened the door there was a black car waiting for him. Not his, hers. With steady steps he walked towards the car and got in.

mhmhmhmh

Two hours, he has been in her office for two hours trying to help her, trying to find a solution to this problem. The fact is, there was only two ways and both of them required someone to be involved, to go to this desert laden country and talk to the person. The problem is that whoever goes, most likely will not return and she knew it. She came to the same conclusion but just as she tried to save Mycroft, she was trying to save the undecided person from this fate. Mycroft sighed. He needed to be 'Antarctica' once more and make the hard decisions. This is actually perfect t it came as the proverbial blessing in disguise; it was the perfect way to go. Not by suicide, but by sacrifice. It would be sooner than he anticipated but still, he already got rid of his furniture and most of his policies and stuff, he just has the small matter of the other 50% of his Trust and then he will be sorted. He put the file back on the table and folded his hands.

"I'll go." Lady Smallwood dropped the small biscuit she picked up, her eyes wide as saucers as she looked at him.

"Mycroft..." It was the first time he heard her voice losing that strong sound and he felt guilty, they have been working together for years now, and out of everyone here they always had a better understanding of one another than with the rest. It was going to be hard on her, but he didn't have a choice.

"We both know that is the only option, that the best way to minimize the damage is for one of us to be there. Out of all the operatives, I stand the best chance."

"Your survival rate..."

"Nonexistent."

"It would be a death sentence." She whispered and he smiled in his usual way, no emotion in it.

"I..." He dropped his head and looked back up, the mask gone.

"You once said we are friends, can I be frank?" She nodded, not trusting her voice, she was smart and had a pretty good idea what he was going to say, she knew the position he was in, with his job, his family, his brother...sister... She understands his reasoning. She didn't like it, but he was always meticulous in his reasoning and logical process. And to stubborn to allow an alternative.

"I already lost everything; we both know I will never be the strong powerful man I used to be, not after everything that had happened. Sherringford is out of my jurisdiction, my parents probably won't ever forgive me for the betrayal, Sherlock still hates my presence and if I have any chance of rectifying the situation it would be good. In a small way this way I can atone for my sins – however small that may be. As for the agency. I was - am - the best."

"And if you die?"

"Then as I clarified years ago, no flowers." That was it, no more trying to talk him out of it, just a matter of arranging his temporary reinstatement that allowed him to go on this trip, this mission. A suicide mission. It wasn't fair.

A week.

He leaves in a week.

Now that he has a set date, he was somehow able to be more at peace, more calm about everything. he also had decided about the other 50% It should've been obvious, the one person who never asked for anything, the one man who did his job, who cared for Sherlock out of love and the goodness of his heart, not because he got something out of it - that only came later. He will make sure his brother's friends and family was taken care off.

To his surprise Lady Smallwood arranged for him to go to Sherringford with his parents and Sherlock to see his sister. It was kindness, she was allowing him to say goodbye to them, all of them together once more before the family is being broken apart. He accepted it.

mhmhmh

It was wonderful to see; his little brother and sister playing together, a beautiful melody that testified about the years of pain, of the heartache but also of hope, a new beginning. Mycroft felt his heart constrict with the emotions, he was responsible for this pain, this heartache and he doesn't deserve to be part of the new beginning of the hope. He glanced at his hand, clasped in his mother's. She got her daughter back, but she is about to lose a son. Then again, it was the son that was responsible for everything. He stayed behind a brief moment to look at his sister, her eyes were staring ahead. He stepped closer to the glass his hand touching the cold surface.

"I'm sorry. Goodbye." He whispered and turned around following his parents and brother out. The helicopter ride was quiet every now and then his mom and dad would talk to Sherlock commenting on the music or Euros, or the next visit. They ignored him. They still blame him, their 'limited son'. Sherlock would once or twice glance at him, willing him to say something but he didn't. He had nothing to add, not anymore.

He did however turn to them before their car took them back to the Baker Street to see the flat and repairs and to pick up John and Rosie before they were to have dinner. Mycroft wasn't invited. They wanted 'one on one time' with Rosie and John.

"Mummy, Father. Will you ever forgive me?" He asked them straightforward; Sherlock look up at him Mycroft ignored him.

"Mycroft..." Mycroft, not Mycie, which is telling in itself.

"This was a very mean thing you did; do you have any idea how much that hurts?"

"Not as much as finding out your daughter is a serial killer and your other son is a drug addict I'm sure." He closed his eyes, he talked without thinking and all the hope he had to get forgiveness before he died, died away.

"Mycroft!" He father and Sherlock cried out together.

"I'm sorry." He replied. His mother stepped closer.

"You keep saying that and I have no idea whether you meant it." Mycroft nearly broke down right there, his eyes filled with tears and Sherlock open his mouth to stand up for his brother, he could see that comment was breaking him. Before he could say anything his mother went on. He was fifteen, doesn't that count for something? He himself was just a boy that had to grow up overnight. His mom squeezed his hand, bringing him back to focus.

"Probably one day, we will be okay, but it will take time, time heals everything and I'm really glad that I have all my children back together but it will take a while before we will be okay again. I'm sorry Mycroft; it is the best I can give you right now."

He wanted to yell at them he doesn't have the time, time heals nothing because in all his years alive, all this time since she killed Victor and was taken away, all this years of trying to help her healed nothing. All the years he was forced to make the hard decisions, the day he was force to be the grown up, the fifteen year old boy with the dark secret healed absolutely nothing. Instead he resigned himself to her words, to know that he will die without their forgiveness. They still need to know that he loves them and he doesn't hold it against them.

"I understand. I will wait patiently for the day we can be a proper family again." With a quick nod she got into the car, his dad following. Mycroft memorized them, this would be the last time he sees them. He looked up at Sherlock who was staring at him. He stared back, he wanted to say so many things to his brother yet he didn't.

"Come on Sherlock." Their mother's voice came out from the car and Sherlock looked down to her, when he looked back up Mycroft had turned around and was walking away.