"What's this room?" John asked as they entered, then wished he hadn't. In the middle was a coffin, lined in satin. Sherlock looked at it with a frown, quietly thinking.

"Let's let Mykie figure this one out, Sherlock," Eurus' sing-song voice echoed over the loudspeaker. "We never let big brother have a say, do we?" Sarcasm dripping from her voice, her image appeared on the screen at the far end of the room. "Well, Mycroft? Who do you suppose that's for?"

The screen winked black again, and Mycroft, suddenly the one thrust to the fore, hesitated. He looked around the room, not speaking for a moment.

"Well if you won't, I will," Sherlock stepped forward, and studied the coffin. "It's…simple. For someone practical about death and life, someone we both know."

"Someone all of us know," Mycroft replied, still looking at the lid.

"Irene Adler?" John suggested. "We all know her."

"No," both brothers replied.

"Look at it, it's far too simple for her tastes. And it's not Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock added "She's put in her will she'll be cremated."

Mycroft finally went to the lid that had been leaned against the wall. "Name-plate has been included," he turned it over, and Sherlock and John both frowned.

"Sister?" John was confused. "So…it's for Eurus?"

Mycroft was staring at the screen, already figured it out. "No. Not Eurus."

The television blinked back on, Eurus placidly sitting at the desk again. "No not me, big brother, never me, was it? You want a nice, normal sister, don't you? One who you don't have to lock up every day, one who bakes you jam bickies and pours out tea and you can use her as an excuse if you need to get out of a party, and incidentally set up with Sherlock, if he ever gets his head out of his bum. Lock her into the family too, hm? Won't mummy love her, Mycroft?"

"Stop." The request was soft, pleading.

"Maybe she'll do better with her than she ever did with me. I mean…why shouldn't she?" Eurus stared at them through the camera, angry, almost laughing at the thought. "Why shouldn't our parents do so much better with her?"

"I don't understand," John spoke up at last. "Who?"

"Poor, stupid John," Eurus shook her head. "How do you even put up with his funny little brain, Sherlock?" she shrugged. "Well, Mykie, should we let him in on the secret? What did you tell a beloved young lady not so long ago?"

Mycroft pulled himself to his full height, paling considerably. "Leave her alone, Eurus, she's nothing to do with this-"

"She's everything to do with this!" Eurus insisted. "The woman who broke through my brother's defenses! Doctor Watson, if you say 'Irene Adler' one more time I'll clock you, I mean it," her smile was eerily teasing and familial, putting them all on edge. "Sex happens all the time, woohoo, doesn't mean anything at all. Least not in my experience. Though I'm not convinced Sherlock ever went that far with her," she narrowed her eyes at Mycroft. "Nor you…anyway," a wave of her hand and she was back on track. "Mycroft, your task in this room is to talk to everyone's favorite person in the whole wide world. Really open up to her, you know, just like a proper brother should. Three minutes on the clock, mind, or else I'll have to do away with her."

"Nobody can have a proper conversation in three minutes-" Mycroft spluttered.

"Temper-temper," Eurus chided. A timer appeared in the corner of the screen, as well as three different closed circuit television feeds. All three showed Molly Hooper moving around her kitchen.

"Molly," Sherlock breathed. "Eurus leave her alone!"

"Oh my, Sherlock at last showing his true colors?" Eurus smiled indulgently. "Perhaps I should have made this one for you, after all, you do love her, don't you?"

Sherlock hesitated, but he never took his eyes from the screen. "I do…" he murmured, regarding his pathologist. "I do love her."

"Hmm, and she knows it, you cheeky boy," Eurus answered. "But I think Mycroft owes our dear Miss Hooper an apology. Don't you, big brother?"

Mycroft didn't say anything, he met his sister's gaze evenly, though there was a touch of sadness behind his expression. Sadness and humility. "I owe you one too, I think," he said at last.

Eurus stared back at him, almost taken aback. "Well we aren't focusing on me," she said, brushing off his words. "Three minutes. Say what you should have said, and I won't detonate her flat."

"What words?!" Mycroft blustered.

"You know," Eurus added. "Timer starts now."

The noise of a phone ringing filled the empty space, and Mycroft suddenly found himself straightening his tie, as if Molly could see him on the other end.

"She never picks up the first time," Sherlock warned quietly.

"Yes she does," Mycroft answered.

"What?! Why?"

"If I was to hazard a guess it would be because I am not always calling her for a favor."

"Making her make you tea counts as a favor," Sherlock hissed, just as Molly answered.

"Hello?"

"Miss Hooper, I'm pleased you're able to answer my call."

"Well…I know you usually don't call unless something is the matter, you don't do 'friends'."

There was a bite to her voice, Mycroft could hear the hurt behind it, especially her tossing his own words back at him.

"No, you're right, I do not," Mycroft answered. He opened his mouth, about to continue the thought, but Molly only shook her head.

"What do you want, Mycroft?"

"I wanted…I did not properly thank you, for your kindnesses, you were very good to bring me supper, and to recommend a wine to go with it. I am sorry if I misinterpreted your meaning."

"Well, you Holmes men tend to get swelled heads about yourselves, for whatever reason. Go on then, what is it you needed?"

"I don't…" Mycroft breathed through his nose, trying to ignore the fact that John and Sherlock were directly behind him. He didn't do 'moments'. He hated talking. Words were cumbersome and stupid at times, and he hated being so exposed. It grated against the very fiber of his being. Even if his family was completely normal, he supposed he would still dislike intimacy of any sort.

Hearing his labored breathing, Molly set aside the lemon she'd been slicing.

"Mycroft what's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"I am trying to tell you that I was wrong," he spoke at last.

On the screen, she smiled, chuckling to herself.

"Not so easy, is it?"

"No, it is not. I have not been kind to you, in the past. I think that I have been rather callous and without reason either, and for that I apologize."

Another smile, gentler.

"I forgive you Mycroft. You have a difficult job. I know you must have to vent sometimes, I'd just appreciate not being an emotional punching bag if it's all the same to you."

"No, you're quite right," he agreed. He glanced at the timer, it was still ticking away, down to two minutes flat.

"Tick-tock, tick-tock, time is racing, big brother," Eurus chimed in.

"The thing is," Mycroft blustered ahead, fidgeting. "I was wrong, Molly…what I said the other day, when you were so kindly trying to help me…I don't do friends,"

"I know you don't," Molly answered. "It's all right. You don't have to apologize."

"I don't do friends," Mycroft repeated. "Because I've always been a rubbish one. I've been a rather terrible brother as well, if I'm honest."

"Sherlock adores you, in his own way. He may not say it, but he loves you. You do your best, Mycroft, you always have. Who can say they could do better, given the circumstances you both are in? Don't be so hard on yourself."

Mycroft was looking at Eurus' screen in the corner of the television. "I've not always been a good brother, and for that I am sorry. I will do better from now on, that is all I can promise."

"You've always kept your promises Mycroft," Molly soothed. "You're a good man. You might not see it, but you are. It's all right if you don't want to be my friend. You've got to do what's best for you, that's okay."

"The point is, though," Mycroft licked his lips, finding them dry. He looked between Eurus' screen and Molly's. "When I told you I didn't do friends, I'd wanted to tell you that…that I'd rather have you for a sister…than a friend."

Molly stood still a moment.

Mycroft took a breath, deciding he'd come this far. "I've always kept an eye on you, since Sherlock's first stint at rehab, when he started going to Barts. I saw something of myself in you, that you were alone, the same as I was, though you weren't that way by choice. Your kindness fascinated be, your optimism despite people's cruelty of you, your warmth despite the cool regard most people hold of your profession. You're a reminder to me that there is still good in the world. I admire you greatly and I…I suppose I wanted to be able to protect that, to protect you. I protect the people I care about, it is what I'm best at. When I told you I didn't do 'friends', I should have said that 'friend' is too small a word for you. I can't always protect 'friends'," he glanced to John Watson, both of them thinking of Mary Watson, a bitter twinge in their hearts. "Family….family I would die for."

There was a sniffle on the other end.

"Sixty seconds," Eurus spoke up, breaking through the tense moment.

"Molly?" Mycroft shifted, uncomfortable. "Have I spoken out of turn?"

On the screen, they could see her shake her head, wiping her eyes.

"Mycroft if you want a sister, I can be that for you, all you had to do was ask."

Mycroft found himself looking at his fleshly sister again, who was staring intently at him. "I had a sister once," he said at last.

Eurus took in a short breath, clearly surprised.

"Did you?" Molly's voice was soft. "You never said. Was she like you and Sherlock?"

Mycroft found himself blinking back tears, still regarding Eurus. "She would have been brilliant, if she'd had the opportunity. I think…if she'd been given the help and attention she wanted and needed…she'd be the sister I always wanted."

Eurus had stopped announcing the time. She stared at her eldest brother, confused at her feelings, at Mycroft's words.

"Mycroft, are you there?"

"I'm here," he answered, voice thick with emotion.

"Listen I can't…I'm not like you or Sherlock, not clever like you are, I mean…and I know I can't replace the sister you lost, but…but if you'd still like a sister…like me to be that for you…I'd like that…I'd love that, if I'm honest."

The timer was ticking down, ten seconds left. Mycroft did not know what Eurus would do, how she would react once the timer ran out. She might very well blow up Molly's flat just because she felt like it, because Mycroft wasn't exactly sticking to the script Eurus had set up for him. Time was running out and Mycroft felt he still had more to say:

"Thank you, sister-mine, and for whatever it's worth, I'm sorry if I have hurt you." Five seconds left. "For the record, Sherlock loves you, most ardently."

Molly smiled soft and gentle, touched. "I know he does. Thank you…" she hesitated a moment. "Brother-mine."

The timer blinked 'zero' and the screen shorted out.