Work Text:
- Actually, Mycroft is right,- said Sherlock, taking another bite of cake,- Lestrade had no right to do that to him.
- It's not something one person does to another, Sherlock, it just happens!
- Well, he shouldn't have let it happen without Mycroft's consent. The man is terrified!
- For God's sake, everyone knew that! We all knew it, everyone at the Yard knows it, everyone in the Secret Service knows it! Even the crows in the Tower of London know that.... Wait a minute, you didn't know?
Sherlock glanced at John, who was smiling smugly.
- Have I done something wrong, Dad?
- Oh, no, dear. You've discovered something that the two smartest men in London hadn't managed to deduce. I'm proud of you.
The little girl gave them a toothless smile as the grown-ups poured out more cake.
Mycroft Holmes' office.
Greg exhaled slowly, gathering his patience.
- Mycroft....
Without moving from his post in front of the window, the older Holmes tensed up.
- No. You betrayed me, Gregory.
- I think the term "betrayal" is a bit exaggerated.
- Exaggerated? I asked you jut one thing, Gregory, when our partnership began. Do you remember what it was?
Greg looked down, unable to believe that his first argument as a couple would be prompted by an innocent question, uttered by the lips of an innocent little girl. Damned innocence, he thought.
Tired of Mycroft finding excuses not to attend, thinking that he was only invited because of some kind of moral obligation and not because they really liked having him there, they had decided to celebrate Rossie's birthday at Mycroft's house that year.
Mr. and Mrs. Holmes and Mrs. Hudson had taken over the kitchen first thing in the morning, Molly and Anthea had taken care of the decorations, John and Sherlock were preparing the games to entertain the party, while he and Mycroft took a walk in the park with the girl.
Everything had gone well and they were already at the desserts when Rossie, sitting on Greg's lap, had turned and asked him, point-blank:
- Uncle Greg, are you in love with Uncle Mycroft?
As the whole table looked at them, amused, Greg had answered without thinking.
- Yes, I am. Of course I am.
He looked up to share a smile with John, sitting at the other end of the table, only to find himself staring at a spot behind his back.
Cursing mentally, he turned, only to find that Mycroft, who had chosen that very moment to return to the room, was looking at him in shock.
Slowly, he turned to go back out, while Greg left the girl and got up to go after him. He caught up with him in the corridor, already by the entrance.
- Mycroft, where are you going?
- Home, I'm going home...
- Mycroft... you live here.
Blinking, Mycroft looked back at him, coming out of his stupor, muttering a "yes, of course..." to go and lock himself in his office, where the DI had followed him.
Greg muttered a reply.
- Exactly. I told you not to fall in love with me . Those were my exact words. Nothing else. It was my only request before I started this... relationship. And you... you had no right to... You can't do this to me! You never told me that before.
If Greg were someone else, he'd probably storm out of the room, offended that the man didn't know how he felt about him.
But Greg was Greg, and Mycroft was Mycroft.
And Mycroft was a Holmes, and Greg could write at this point a tutorial on "Owning and Managing a Holmes: Tricks for Not Going Crazy", one in which he would explain that it is perfectly normal for a Holmes not to be able to understand that someone else might want him.
He sighed, slowly approaching the government analyst.
- Mycroft, we have been living practically together for three years. I come here to sleep every night and we have breakfast together every day. We spend weekends and holidays together. There's more of me in your house than in my flat, my parents talk to you more than they do to me on the phone, my daughter introduced you to her boyfriend before me and my toothbrush is next to yours in what you call "our bathroom", had you really not deduced that I love you?
- You shouldn't love me. You can't love someone like me!
- I really don't know why you are upset with me. This is your fault. If you weren't the wonderful man you are, smart, funny and sweet, I wouldn't have fallen in love.
Mycroft looked at he incredulously through her reflection in the glass. Greg moved closer, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder.
- Don't you understand that this changes everything? I will disappoint you.
Greg left a kiss on his neck, holding him tighter.
He could have told him that nothing he said made sense.
He could have reminded him that Mycroft had confessed to him that he liked him when he was still a married man.
He could have told him that Mycroft himself had confessed to being in love with him after their first night together, only to tell him immediately afterwards that he shouldn't worry, as he didn't expect Greg to return his feelings. Indeed, it was imperative that Greg promised not to fall in love with him if they were to begin their relationship as 'friends with rights'.
And Greg, despite his initial reluctance for fear of hurting the man, had agreed, and after meeting the man, he had quickly fallen deeply in love with him.
But this was Mycroft Holmes. And though it might sound crazy, Greg understood what he meant.
Mycroft could love and not be loved back.
Caring for others and not being treated equally was something he could live with.
He had spent his whole life doing, and had not been able to see that everything had changed.
He could handle a broken heart, as long as it was his own heart.
What he could not live with was hurting someone who had placed his affection and trust in him.
To fail in that would be unforgivable.
To be loved is a great responsibility.
Hence the man's iron conviction that everyone around him was doing it out of some kind of interest or obligation.
It was easier to do what he had to do if he thought there were no feelings involved.
If he failed those he loved, they would be disappointed, yes, but not hurt. Only he would suffer, for not having lived up to it.
Greg stroked he neck with his forehead.
- I promise you that nothing will change. You won't disappoint me, at least no more than I could disappoint you. And although we will make mistakes sometimes, we will find a way.
- I don't want to hurt you.
- I know you don't. I couldn't love you if I didn't know. We'll be fine, okay? Do you trust me?
Relaxing in his embrace, Mycroft nodded. Smiling, Greg spun him around in his arms, so that they were facing each other. He kissed him gently, before resting his forehead on the official's.
- And while you're at it, there's something else you should know. Do you promise not to panic?
After a few minutes, Mycroft nodded.
- My parents confess that you're their favorite son-in-law, my daughter has promised that her first child will be named after you, and all those people out there love you too. Very much.
Mycroft looked at him, eyes wide open, swallowing his spit. He opened his mouth to respond and closed it again, unable to find the words. Greg gave him a reassuring smile.
- Yes, I know, it's a big responsibility. But they love you, the way you are, so they expect nothing but for you to be happy and to let them love you. And even if there are problems from time to time, we will continue to love you. Just think of how many times you've been disappointed by Sherlock. I promise you nothing will change between us, okay?
Overwhelmed, but somewhat calmer, Mycroft nodded. Greg kissed him again.
- I love you, Greg.
- I love you, Mycroft. And now, I think we should go back before we run out of cake. Why let me explain something to you about people: just because they love you doesn't mean they won't eat all the slices.