A/N: Hey guys! So I have just had the urge all day to finish this story, so here we are XD I'm aware Sherlock and Mycroft are very out of character, but I hope that doesn't ruin it for you. Thank you so much for reading this story and for your lovely reviews :) xx

Chapter 3: The Future

After Mycroft finally started to calm down Sherlock managed to coax him into the sitting room and placed him on the sofa. Sherlock then went to make tea to give Mycroft a few minutes alone to regain his composure. When the younger Holmes returned, beverages in hand, Mycroft still looked as distraught and frightened as before, but he had at least stopped crying. Despite the eating disorder Sherlock had always viewed his brother as an impenetrable fortress, and to see him in tears was enough to make Sherlock himself want to break. However, he couldn't, because it was his turn now to be the encouraging one.

Sherlock handed Mycroft a cup and the elder Holmes tried to offer a smile of gratitude, but it was very feeble. Sherlock sat down beside his brother and took a sip of tea before placing the cup down on the table and turning to face Mycroft fully.

"I take it your new relationship with Lestrade is what has caused this sudden relapse?" he asked. He had learned years ago that there was no time to be too delicate, and being rather forceful was the only way to get Mycroft to listen.

"Yes" Mycroft replied quietly as he looked down helplessly into his cup. "I…I should have just broke it off after the first dinner like I intended, but I like Gregory so much… in fact I fear I might even-"

"-Let's not get into that now" Sherlock quickly interrupted. He didn't want to hear anything that might scar him for life. "The point is your self-esteem is lacking again. We've been over this a hundred times before, Mycroft; you cannot deal with your personal demons this way. You need to eat."

"Said the pot to the kettle…" Mycroft mumbled and then took a sip of tea. "And as for dealing with my personal demons, would you prefer if I turned to narcotics instead?" he asked a little mockingly.

Sherlock looked almost startled at his brother's blunt calling out to his own past.

"That's…that's different" the younger Holmes insisted; he didn't want to talk about himself right now. "I took the drugs because I was bored, because my head was cluttered. And when I do eventually eat after a case, I eat. You are on the point of starvation."

"I know" Mycroft replied solemnly as he placed his cup down on the table too. "I know, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have brought up the drugs."

"It's alright" Sherlock replied, placing a hand gently on his brother's arm. "I do understand how strong the grip of addiction can be, but you just have to fight. You told me from a very young age that caring is not an advantage, and yet you care so much about how others see you that you're hurting yourself."

"Caring is not an advantage." Mycroft maintained. "Look at what it has done to me, and I care too much for Gregory to let him go which is utterly selfish of me."

"Lestrade is not a shallow man, Mycroft, you know that. If he was he would have brushed me aside like everyone else, but he gave me a chance, and now you must give him one too. Lestrade…he is a good man, I trust him, which is not something I can say about many people. He won't cast you away. He helped me a lot with the drugs in the past when I tried to shut you out. He understands and he can help you."

"But…no matter what I can't convince myself I am good enough for him, that I am good enough for anyone."

"Well…" Sherlock said carefully as he withdrew his hand from Mycroft's arm. "Then, I should tell you…because I don't think I've told you before… I wouldn't want anyone else as a big brother."

Mycroft looked at his brother a little shocked. He had always been able to tell if Sherlock was being genuine, and it seemed this was actually one of those times.

"However, if you ever let slip of that to anyone else I will deny this conversation ever took place and I shall never speak to you again."

Mycroft couldn't help but laugh; he couldn't remember the last time he'd ever made such a sound.

"You're the best little brother a man could ask for."

Sherlock gave a small smile, but his heart wasn't really in it – if he was the best he would have made sure Mycroft had made a full recovery years ago, but even if he felt he wanted to sometimes when they fought, Mycroft was the one person he could never give up on.

"Do you see yourself having a future with Lestrade?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes" Mycroft responded more firmly than he had so far. "I know now that is what I truly want, and the only one getting in the way of that is me."

"Then he should be made aware of the situation," Sherlock encouraged "and it must be you who tells him."

"I know" Mycroft said, suddenly full of determination. "I need to get it over with, I need to see him right away…"

Greg had been elbow deep in paper work for most of the evening now, and he was determined he wouldn't leave the office until it was done – he couldn't relax with the thought of having to do it in the morning hanging over his head. But that wasn't the thing that was troubling him the most, no, that place went solely to Mycroft.

Greg had deeply enjoyed the time he had spent with Mycroft over the past few weeks, but it saddened him to think that Mycroft could probably not say the same. The elder Holmes always seemed a little distant, like he was hiding something, and at first Greg couldn't quite place it, but he was starting to have his suspicions.

Mycroft Holmes was a truly intriguing, intelligent, and beautiful man in Greg's eyes, and he wondered if sometimes the politician failed to see that. Greg wanted to think that he and Mycroft would be together for the foreseeable future, and so it would become his mission to prove to Mycroft it was okay to be open with him, that if they were going to be in a long relationship they had to show trust in each other. If Mycroft couldn't trust Greg, then it may well break the detective inspector's heart.

He was happy for the interruption of the knock on his office door; however he was not expecting Mycroft to be the one to enter.

"Hello, Gregory." The elder Holmes tried to smile but it was nervous and foreboding.

"Mycroft, what are you doing here?" Greg asked as he stood from his desk.

He didn't even wait for a reply as he walked around and enveloped Mycroft in a tight hug – an irrational part of him was scared that if he ever let go then the politician would just fade away forever. He could feel Mycroft shaking in his arms, but most disturbingly he could feel just how bony the younger man was. His suspicions were starting to become even more confirmed.

"Gregory, there's something I must tell you." Mycroft announced as he somehow managed to escape the older man's protective grip. "And I must say it now, or else I fear I never will. You must understand this is hard for me…"

"Okay…" Greg replied gently, holding Mycroft's face in his hands and brushing away the tears which had already began to spill. "To be honest…I've been waiting for you to say something."

"Y-you have?" Mycroft asked a little shocked.

Greg removed his hands and took Mycroft's into them instead.

"Yes, up until this point I've had two theories about why you don't want to be…more intimate. Number one, you don't think I'm attractive…"

"That is not, and will never be true" Mycroft desperately tried to reassure him.

"Or number two…" Greg continued, his own tone growing thicker with emotion. "And I think this might be the one…kinda wish it was the other one." He looked into Mycroft's wide eyes. "You don't think you are attractive."

Mycroft let out a shuddery breath and looked down at his almost skeletal trembling hands in Greg's big strong ones. The DI gave them a gentle squeeze of affection, letting Mycroft know that he would wait – I would wait forever for you.

"That is correct..." Mycroft said his voice distorted as he fought the urge to start crying again. "I…I suffer from an eating disorder and a lack of self-worth. I relapsed recently because I didn't want to disappoint you. You deserve perfection and I don't know if I can give you that."

"You are perfect" Greg said seriously. "Ever since I met you Mycroft I've known, I have known that you are the one I'm supposed to be with. You make me happier than anyone before, and it kills me to think that you don't see that, to think about what you are doing to yourself. Please, let me show you" he requested as he rested his forehead lightly against Mycroft's. "Let me show you how perfect you are."

"Y-you…you will have to patient with me" Mycroft warned him.

"Of course, I would never push you into anything. I would wait a lifetime; we don't ever have to do anything. Just being with you is enough. But still, I would like the chance to prove to you that you are worth more than anything. I'll be there for you every step of the way, whatever you need, just please don't shut me out. I want to help. I'll do anything you need. Anything."

Greg stumbled back a little with the surprise of Mycroft's lips forcefully meeting his. He gripped the back of the younger man's jacket and indulged deeply in the passionate kiss – it was more than he could have ever imagined.

"Gregory, I love you" Mycroft breathed as he broke the bond.

"I love too, Myc" Greg replied with a soft smile, and his heart skipped a beat when Mycroft smiled back.

"So, how did it go?" John asked when Sherlock returned later in the evening.

The detective took off his scarf and threw his coat down on the chair before picking up his violin.

"Mycroft has agreed that it is in his best interest to tell Lestrade everything" Sherlock informed him and started plucking at the strings of his instrument. It wasn't with the same dull rhythm as when he was bored, but more frantic, as if he were nervous.

John seemed to notice the change in pattern. "Everything will be fine, I'm sure" the doctor tried to encourage him. "Mycroft is strong, and Greg would never turn him away."

"Mmm" Sherlock mused as he stood by the window and looked out into the dark night.

"Well, I have to go to work" John informed him. "Unless… you preferred if I'd stay? I could just call Sarah…"

Sherlock was touched by his friends concern, but he could not let that be known, naturally.

"No, I'm perfectly alright." Sherlock said, and John nodded – he had learnt a long time ago there was no point trying to get the younger Holmes to change his mind.

John soon left and Sherlock was once again alone with his rapid trail of thoughts. He continued messing about with his violin until he was aware that someone else was in the room – it wasn't that often that he was so lost in his own head he missed something so obvious.

"Did you talk to Mycroft?" Sherlock asked Lestrade.

The DI walked further into the room and nodded. Sherlock indicated to John's chair with his violin bow before sitting down in his own. Lestrade took a moment to settle himself before taking on a serious gaze at the younger Holmes.

"I wanted to say thank you" Lestrade said. "I'd suspected right from the start that Mycroft may have some kind of issue but…I didn't want to push him and it only felt fair for him to tell me on his own accord. However, I also get the feeling you may have offered a little guidance."

Sherlock smirked a little. "My, my, Lestrade, perhaps you aren't as slow as I had originally thought."

"Sherlock, trying to have a moment here" the DI replied with a serious look.

"Right. Well, there really is no need to thank me" Sherlock claimed. "Despite our differences and what other people may think, there really is nothing I wouldn't do for my brother."

Lestrade nodded in understanding. "Well I want you to know that I'd do anything for Mycroft too, and he knows that now."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "So, you see a future with my brother too?"

"Yes" Lestrade replied confidently. "I can't see myself with anyone else. Ever."

"Good" Sherlock said simply, and then went back to playing his violin - a much more well thought out tune now.

Lestrade took that as his queue to leave. Just as he was about to go through the door, Sherlock stopped playing abruptly.

"Oh and Greg…" the younger Holmes called after him. The DI looked startled at the use of his name correctly, but that was how he knew whatever Sherlock was about to say was deadly serious. "If you ever hurt my big brother, I will end you."

"Kinda goes without saying" Greg assured him and then left.

Sherlock felt more at ease than he had in a long time.

It was a week later when Sherlock decided to pick up the phone and call Mycroft. The elder Holmes and Greg were lounging together on the sofa watching some old horror film Greg had insisted he needed to see. Mycroft was resting with his head on the older man's shoulder, a content smile on his face – he couldn't have been happier in that most simplest of moments.

"Hello, brother-dear" he greeted.

"Good evening" Sherlock said formally, but Mycroft wouldn't have it any other way. "How's the diet?" he asked.

"Fine" Mycroft said as he glanced up at Greg lovingly and his smile broadened. "Everything is absolutely fine."