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a-fools-jester · 7 years

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For the ship and number thing... Mystrade and 7- the driving one.

The Things You Said In The Car

We’ll be okay, Greg keptrepeating, trying to keep himself steady as Mycroft sat silently inthe passenger’s seat; Greg kept speaking though the silence claimedhis words. Mycroft sat there like a stone statue; his body still andhardly breathing his fingers pressed against the growing patch ofblood on his dress shirt. We’ll be fine, Myc, don’t youworry. We’ll get you to the hospital in no time and-

Mycroft never responded. Insteadhe pressed his forehead to the glass, feeling sick to the stomach asall the color left his face. His hands trembled like leaves in thebitter autumn wind, and he hatedit. He detested being so painfully human andbreakable, wishing he could be immune to pain or death like somemorons liked to believe he was. He’d never thought he’d go out likethis: bleeding and shaking like a coward, with fear of the inevitableplaguing his mind and filling his eyes with tears. The least theassassin could have done was aim correctly and do it cleanly- oneshot through the brain and it would be bye-bye for Mycroft. For god’ssake, did they not train assassins to aim anymore?

His silence did nothing butunravel Greg further, but trying to gather up all the courage he hadhe kept his eyes on the road and prayed to god they wouldn’t be toolate. It was probably an assassination attempt,Greg concluded as he assessed the situation. He’d find them and makethem pay, Greg sworeto himself. If it was the last thing he did, he would find them andshow no mercy.

“Greg,” Mycroft said, voice hoarse as he blinked sluggishlyout the window. Greg snapped his head over to look at him, beforeremembering the road and tentatively looking back. “Greg, I feellike this might be… a bit more than I can handle. I think- I thinkthis is it, Greg, I think that I’m-”

Greg shook his head, blinking in an attempt to keep the tearsfrom blurring his vision over. “No. No, you’re not, Mycroft. You’refucking not allowed to die on me.” He scowled, trying tohide the cold tendrils of fear clawing at his insides with a fieryrage. This was his fault, if he’d just protected Mycroft better, thenmaybe they wouldn’t even be in this situation.

Mycroft looked like hell. Hishair stuck to his forehead, and he was getting paler by the second.The patch of blood on his shirt grew larger and larger even as hepressed down on it. Greg was no doctor, but he didn’t doubt for asecond that this was treading into the deadlyterritory that not even Mycroft Holmes- the quintessential genius whotried to rise above his humanity and claim his throne as anomnipotent god- could come back from it unscathed.

Mycroft licked his dry lips,letting out a shuddering breath. “Greg… If this is the lastchance I have to say this- no, just listen to me, shut up-”he said over Greg’s protests. “I’m sorry if I- if I wasn’t goodenough at… sentiment and romance and… domesticity. I do loveyou- I hope you know that, and I’m sorry I was always too afraid toshow it too often. I was terrified of being hurt, but I was a foolnot to trust you. I’m sorry I was a coward, Gregory. I loveyou. You’re the best thing to happen to me and I- and I didn’t tellyou that enough.”

Tears blurred Greg’s visionbefore it quickly clears, sliding down his face like raindrops. “Ilove you too, Myc. We’re supposed to grow old together and findourselves a nice little house- or maybe in your case, mansion- andmaybe get a dog, or a child, or I don’t know- a goddamn zebra, butfor fuck’s sake thisisn’t supposed to end like this!” Something inside of Greg snapped,something snapping and crackling in his veins as he slammed his handagainst the steering wheel, tears pouring down his face. He shook hishead, wiping the tears away. “Don’t talk anymore, alright? Justbreathe. You’re going to be okay.”

Tears filled Mycroft’s eyes, and deciding not to waste his breathon speaking anymore he mouthed: liar.

“Don’t you dare make me intoone.” His eyes began to glaze over and Greg began to prayharder than he’d ever prayed in his life to a god that may haveforgotten they existed.

If anyone out there is listening, if anyone out there stillactually fucking cares…

Please, save him. I’llnever ask for anything else in my life if you just save him. I’llnever ask for anything for myself if you just let him live. I can’tlive without him- I can’t!If you let him die, you let me die, please, you can’t take him andforce me to live without him.

He turned his gaze to Mycroft, who had fallen unconscious on theseat next to him. He stepped down on the pedal as hard as he could.Please just hold on for a few more minutes and be okay. Just thisonce, let things turn out okay.

Mycroft closed his eyes, and Greg hastily moved to shake him.“No. Nononono you don’t, wake up!” Greg shouted, his hearthammering in his ears as he slammed his foot down on the pedal,trying to make it to the hospital in time. “Not like this, forfuck’s sake, not like this. Don’t do this to me, please, sunshine,wake up. Come on, Mycroft, wake up. Please. God, please, just-” hisvoice broke, and it hurt too much to keep talking. He had so manythings to say but nobody to say it to, his ears ringing from thesilence.

“I love you.”

–

Everything spun aroundhim, and Mycroft feared that he’d be hurled off into space with thespeed of their spinning. He was surrounded by a cloud of numbness,his body floating in midair and never hitting the ground. Nothingmade sense, but he knew that somewhere, there was supposed to bepain, but he didn’t remember what that was anymore. He didn’tremember which feeling was meant to be pain, but he knew there was alot of it-

somewhere. He didn’t remember whereanymore either. He didn’t remember very much of anything anymore.

All he knew was that lightningcrackled in his chest like an eternity being shoved into a weakmortal body. The world paused and faltered, everything around himfading, his heart thumping loudly in his ears.

Someone he didn’trecognize, from a place that was unknown to him, called Mycroft’sname. Somewhere in the darkness, a warm hand touched his clammyface, and water dripped onto his freezing skin.

At some place lostin time, he dreamed of warm brown eyes and strong hands he couldn’tplace a name to.

–

In the hospitalroom, Greg wept beside Mycroft’s bed, his hand on top of Mycroft’s,trying to call him back from the abyss.

–

Greg could onlysit there and try to breathe as he stared at Mycroft’s pale face onthe hospital bed. The doctor told him to wait, that Mycroft wouldwake up in a while but it had been a while and Mycroft hadn’t wokenup. The words that the other man had said to him while they weredriving kept echoing in Greg’s mind, and he could only sit there inthe silence, only the mechanical beeping of the heart monitorreminding him that Mycroft was still alive.

Liar,Mycroft had mouthed. That was what stuck with Greg the most, the wayMycroft’s eyes had filled with tears, a soft and almost playful smileon his face as he said it. He knew what was waiting for him then, andGreg couldn’t imagine how he must have felt as he was helplessagainst the pull of death. Letting out a sigh, Greg took a swig ofthe horrible hospital coffee. He would find whoever did this and showno mercy as he tore into them and made them as mangled in body as hewas inside.

–

“Greg?”Mycroft asked, looking down at the head of silver hair on his bed.Greg, ever the heavy-sleeper, didn’t react until Mycroft gave him asoft nudge. Greg cracked open his eyes, looking up and for a second,just sitting there with a groggy half-confused and half-hopeful lookas if he was doubting if this was just a dream. “I suppose that I’mofficially an immortal now. I’ll be receiving the certificatelater on in the mail.”

Greg laughedheartily, reaching over and wrapping Mycroft in a warm embrace,mindful of his wound. “God, you bastard! I thought you were gonnagive out on me. You gave us such a scare.”

“Us?” Mycroftrepeated, melting into Greg’s arms and closing his eyes. He breathedin the scent of cigarette smoke and the cologne Greg always used.

Greg nodded,thanking every deity he knew existed that Mycroft was alive. “Yes,us. Me, Sherlock, John, even Mrs Hudson, Anthea and Molly werereally worried. They all visited you here and the ladies brought youflowers. John and Sherlock left a little… thing, a goldfish stuffedanimal, Molly left a teddy bear, Anthea left an umbrella. I made sureyou had a private room. I mean, your bourgeois arse doesn’t reallylook like the type to appreciate anything less than upper classtreatment.”

Greg pulled backand Mycroft, still exhausted from thrashing out of death’s grip,smiled at him weakly. “I love you.”

“So you said,”Greg replied cheekily, unable to believe his luck as he moved forwardand kissed his lover. Mycroft melted under his touch, and Greg onlypulled away when neither of them could breathe.

Mycroft smiled athim, eyes brighter than they’d been in a long time. “So… you saidsomething about getting a zebra together?”

“Absolutelynot,” Greg laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Well, going bythe line of thought you were going on earlier, I think you wanted apet or living being to meet some type of criterion for relationships.To show that we’re long-term. Or consummate our relationship in a waythat sex doesn’t. I suggest a snake. Snakes will do what you wantedthe zebra to do, and they’re fairly easy to care after and-”

Greg groaned,running his hands over his face. He wasn’t particularly fond ofsnakes, after… well, it involved a python going MIA during uni andending up in his dorm-room somehow. He looked Mycroft over, spottingthe morphine and realizing it was probably the morphine talking.“We’re not getting a bloody snake. Christ, you’re worse thana kid asking for a puppy.”

Mycroft scowled athim and Greg sighed in relief the conversation was over. “I’ll giveJohn and Sherlock a call, tell them you’re alive and well.” Hestood, typing in John’s number because Sherlock had hurled his phoneat the wall yesterday in a fit of rage. Mycroft stared at the wallwith a small pout playing on his lips and Greg could only smile athis phone, not wanting to offend the younger man.

It was silent fora few seconds. “Can we get a dog, at least?”

–

There! I hope you like it :D Sorry it took so long. I was buried under 6 feet of schoolwork and projects. I hope this is okay haha it has angst and a bit of fluff. I headcanon Mycroft as a cute person when on morphine or some type of sedatives haha, and Greg as the type to get a teensy bit angry at the situation (no fuck this, this is not happening, not on my watch) instead of losing hope.

They’re definitely getting a dog after this. And of course, John will give Sherlock one as well once he notices that Sherlock’s fond of doggos. DOGS ALL AROUND. and CAKE! And HAPPINESS. Drop a prompt again, if you’d like. I’ll try to be faster this time :)

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