Work Text:
Mycroft’s arms tightened gently, protectively, around the tiny bundle sleeping peacefully in his arms, a long-forgotten emotion swelling his heart as he gazed at her face. This child would not be lost as Eurus had been, as Sherlock had almost been, not this child. This child who was still so new to the world, had lost her mother but, he promised her, she would know what it is to be protected and loved. She would be happy and fulfilled. She would face life secure in the knowledge that caring, and being cared for, was an advantage worth sharing. He promised.