No Good Goodbyes (Mystrade: BBC Sherlock) Ch. 11/11

[AngelEyes]

I'm so glad you picked this up again. It's really good. I'm a sucker for deep feelings.

John tossed the teabag into the bin and turned and opened the fridge, sighing when he saw the hands still hadn’t been returned to the morgue.

And the lighter side. LOL

[ID2006]

What angel said

[cally]

I'm so glad you picked this up again. It's really good. I'm a sucker for deep feelings.

Awww thanks.

What angel said

Two chapters for the price of one tonight

Chapter 7

Mycroft sat there for what seemed like a long time, but was probably only about ten minutes. He was unsure what to do at this point and settled on making tea. The ritual calmed him and soothed his rattled nerves. He felt awful for feeling so anxious over all of this; this was about Gregory not about him or his shortcomings.

He made up a tray and carried it out to the study, hoping that was where Gregory had gone. He found his partner standing at the window looking out. Mycroft put the tray down and was about to leave, when a choked sob stopped him in his tracks.

Gregory was crying, his shoulders shaking from trying to keep a modicum of control. Mycroft went to him, putting his arm around his shoulders. He wasn’t sure how his presence would be taken, so he did nothing more. He was going to offer Gregory his handkerchief, and then remembered he had already given it to him.

Gregory turned so that he was being fully embraced by Mycroft, put his arms around him and sobbed, deep wracking breaths that overtook him fully.

Mycroft walked them both over to the sofa, not breathing contact and making soothing sounds. He let Gregory cry and he rubbed his back soothingly.

Gregory suddenly shuddered beneath his arm and gasped out a hoarse sneeze.

Heh………Rahhhshhngxtishh!

Mycroft leaned forward and pulled the tissue box closer to them both. He removed a fair handful and pressed them into his partner’s hand. “God bless you,” Mycroft said quietly.

Gregory nodded and swiped half-heartedly at his leaking nose.

Gregory trembled violently. The intense prickling returned, and drawing in a wheezy breath he quickly pulled away from his lover as another sneeze escaped.

HRDSCHHhhhh!

Tissues in hand, he barely cupped his hands around his nose before he gave into the violent outburst.

Huh’huhrahhhSHHhhh!

Sagging back against the couch, he blew his nose.

“God bless you again, my dear.”

“Thadks,” Gregory said thickly. He turned to Mycroft. “Oh, love. I got your suit all damp.” He swiped at the damp spot on Mycroft’s lapel, blushing crimson.

“Please do not trouble yourself over it,” Mycroft said gently. He took Gregory’s hand in his and squeezed it.

Mycroft’s own nose began to have a sympathetic twinge. Employing all the mental control he could devote, he gave it a quick rub and then began to pour the tea for them both, in hopes to distract himself from the frustrating appendage in question. However, the fragrant Earl Grey steam had other ideas. He turned his head and ducked it down toward his shoulder.

Mmmmpfx! Ish! Tish! Mmmmpftish!

“Dear me,” he gasped out in the wake of ticklish sneezes. “My apologies, I am not trying to steal your thunder.”

The unintentional self-depreciating remark caused Gregory to smile in spite of everything. “Don’t be silly. God bless you, by the way.” He paused to sniff back dampness, a liquid sniffle, and he dabbed at his nostrils. “It’s not like you can help it,” he added, squeezing Mycroft’s hand.

He took the mug of tea that Mycroft passed him and cradled it in his large hands, relishing its warmth. “I’m sorry about before. I’m just a bit of a mess right now.” He attempted to take a breath, but it was more like a whistling, snuffling sound through his congested nostrils. He dabbed at his nose with the same handful of damp tissues.

Mycroft noticed, and tutting, plucked him a fresh handful. “Here, dearest.”

He took a sip of tea, as he formulated his next words. “How are you feeling? Physically I mean.” Mycroft wanted to gauge how Gregory was feeling in order to make sure he was doing everything he possibly could; he needed to monitor his symptoms and ensure his lover got the best care possible. He knew Gregory would ignore symptoms until he was bordering on needing medical attention at the best of times, and these certainly weren’t the best of times.

Gregory shrugged. “It’s just a cold,” he said.

Unfortunately for Mycroft, his concern for his partner had to take a backseat for the moment. His mobile vibrated with a message from Anthea; his presence was required in the office.

“I am sorry, Gregory. I am needed at the office.” Mycroft took another sip of tea before standing. He placed a kiss on top of Gregory’s silver head. “Please try and rest,” he said.

Gregory reached out and took Mycroft’s hand. “S’alright, love. I’ll be fine,” he said. He kissed the soft ivory skin.

Mycroft smiled. “I will return as soon as I can. There is soup that can be heated up if you get hungry.” With another quick peck, Mycroft headed to his office to retrieve his briefcase and then quickly grabbing his coat and umbrella, headed out to the waiting car.

Chapter 8

When Mycroft returned a few hours later, he did not find Gregory in the study, kitchen, or their bedroom. Frowning, he looked out the window to the back garden. Gregory was sitting out there, smoking. There was a half-drunk bottle of beer next to him. He looked as if he had been crying. Mycroft fretted and opened the door to the back deck.

Gregory was proud of the small deck he had put on last spring. They didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as he had hoped; he wished he could enclose it somehow so that Mycroft could sit out there with him and enjoy it in the spring and summer without worrying about the pollen count.

Gregory took a long drag on the cigarette and blew smoke out with a sigh. Mycroft took a seat next to him, taking in his partner’s appearance, but didn’t comment on what he had deduced.

“Last one for good, dod’t worry,” Gregory said. He sounded even more congested than before and Mycroft wondered how much that was from the illness as opposed to the tears that had recently fallen.

Mycroft nodded and looked out into the garden; it was just barely spring and the alder trees were just starting to bud and the daffodils had filled the flowerbeds with their vibrant yellow hues. He ran his index finger under his nose briefly and wished he had thought to grab a new handkerchief. He had been caught unawares at the office as well. He really should know better, he thought to himself.

Mycroft sniffed quietly. “I take it you spoke with your sister,” he said.

Gregory snorted. “If you can call it speaking, yeah.” He took a final drag on the cigarette and stubbed it out underneath the long wooden bench they were sitting on. He drained the last of his beer and then pushed the butt of the cigarette inside. He leaned back against the wood, sighed and rubbed his nose between his index finger and thumb, sniffling wetly.

“All the arrangements have been made and all. But all she can think about is how he was waiting for me to call before . . .” Gregory’s voice trailed off. He sniffed again and bit his lower lip. “And I can’t say anything to her, I can’t, not right now. But I’m the one; I’m the one who has to live with that for the rest of my life. That he waited for me to call, to hear my voice one last time,” he sobbed out, giving up all pretence of keeping himself together. He put his head in his hands and cried.

Mycroft put his arm around Gregory and held him close while he sobbed. He hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting Gregory’s sister, but from all he had learned about her, he knew she was a right bitch, and he wasn’t one to use words like that lightly, even to himself. She had no business upsetting Gregory like this; his lover was devastated and guilty and would carry this sorrow to his own grave.

HRDSCHHhhhh!

Mycroft was brought out of his thoughts by Gregory’s loud, shuddering sneeze.

“God bless you, my dear.”

Gregory sniffled wetly again and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. He groped about in the pocket of his track pants and pulled out the handkerchief that Mycroft had given him earlier and wiped his eyes and nose.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, looking away.

“Please do not apologise. You are unwell,” Mycroft tutted as he rubbed Gregory’s back. “Did she say anything else?” He asked, hesitantly.

“Other than how I’m a disappointment for not flying out there, not really, no. She laid it on thick this time, about how the girls are getting older and everything.” Gregory shook his head in disbelief. “I thought I had more time, you know? I was gonna go out there, soon. I didn’t think it would be so quick, you know?” He worried his lip again, trying to keep from dissolving in flux of tears.

“You have my sympathies, Gregory, I hope you know that,” Mycroft said. He rubbed his nose again, hoping to hold out a bit longer before he would be forced inside.

“Thanks, love,” the silver haired man said, swiping at his eyes again.

“You’re quite welcome,” Mycroft said. The buzzing within his sinuses was starting to become rather bothersome. He sniffed quietly again in hopes of quelling the irritation. Unfortunately it had the opposite effect and Mycroft quickly turned away from Gregory, cupping his hands over his nose as he gave into the rapid fit.

Mmmmpfx! Ish! Tish! Mmmmpfch! Mmmmpftish Tish’ooo!

“God bless you!” Gregory frowned as he took in Mycroft’s appearance. “Oh Christ, love. I’m sorry, let’s go inside. I didn’t even think. I’m sorry,” he blathered out and led a damp eyed Mycroft back inside.

Mycroft sniffled back the congestion and wiped at his eyes with the cuff of his suit jacket. “Nonsense, Gregory. I was where I needed to be, and that was with you," he said as they made their way into the study. Mycroft made a beeline for the tissues and gathering a handful wiped his eyes and blew his inflamed nose.

“Still, I should’ve thought,” Gregory said. He gave a deep, wracking cough as he sat down.

“You have more important things on your mind right now, my dear,” Mycroft said. “That cough does not sound good, Gregory,” he added, frowning.

“M’fine,” Gregory mumbled.

“Mmmm. I am quite sure you are. However, I would rather you stay that way, so if you would indulge me just a bit,” he pleaded gently.

Not looking up, Gregory nodded. “M’sorry, love.” He reached out for Mycroft’s hand.

Mycroft took Gregory’s hand in his and sat down next to him. “There is nothing for you to apologise for, my dear. You have had a terrible thing happen, and you are under the weather in addition. You are entitled to a bit of grumpiness.” He paused for a moment, deep in thought, and then continued.

“That being said, I know you are feeling worse than you are letting on. I would rather that cough did not get any worse, so please let me take care of you.” Mycroft squeezed his hand gently.

“I didn’t want to add to your worry,” Gregory said quietly. He looked terribly sad as he said it, Mycroft thought.

“Please do not ever think that, Gregory Lestrade,” Mycroft said, more furious with himself than anything.

Gregory gave him a sad smile, and then nostrils flaring, turned his head away as he sneezed.

Huh’rahhhSHHhooo!

The intense tickling sensation didn’t stop there, and seconds later he was gasping into another harsh sneeze.

Huh’huhhraGHNTshh!

“God bless you, my dear,” Mycroft offered, pressing tissues into Gregory’s hand. “I am going to fetch some cold medicine for you, and then see to tea,” he said, rising from his seat.

Gregory, who was actually feeling rather wretched, just nodded.

Edited January 18, 2015 by cally

[AngelEyes]

“Dear me,” he gasped out in the wake of ticklish sneezes. “My apologies, I am not trying to steal your thunder.”

LOL!

Gregory was proud of the small deck he had put on last spring. They didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as he had hoped; he wished he could enclose it somehow so that Mycroft could sit out there with him and enjoy it in the spring and summer without worrying about the pollen count.

I love this vision of Greg building a deck for their home. So domestic.

“Please do not ever think that, Gregory Lestrade,” Mycroft said, more furious with himself than anything.

Fierce!Mycroft. So much love!

This story is rich.

[matilda3948]

Aww

I'm glad you decided to finish this story. It goes straight to the heart.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Wow! I am so happy you have resumed this story. I almost feel more sorry for Mycroft than Greg as he tries to navigate these unchartered waters of grief, guilt and loss with his partner. I can't wait for more!

[ellwren]

This is awesome! I do hope you continue.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

You know what I like about this story? Greg is sneezing because he has a cold. But Mycroft is sneezing because he is Mycroft and that's what he does. All the concern is focused on Greg.

[cally]

Fierce!Mycroft. So much love!

Thank you.

I'm glad you decided to finish this story. It goes straight to the heart.

Thank you. I'm glad I decided to finish it as well, even though I am kind of frustrated with it!

Wow! I am so happy you have resumed this story. I almost feel more sorry for Mycroft than Greg as he tries to navigate these unchartered waters of grief, guilt and loss with his partner. I can't wait for more!

It is hard for both of them for different reasons.

This is awesome! I do hope you continue.

Thank you.

You know what I like about this story? Greg is sneezing because he has a cold. But Mycroft is sneezing because he is Mycroft and that's what he does. All the concern is focused on Greg.

I've been struggling with this chapter forever. I've almost just given up, to be honest. I am having a hard time connecting to it right now, maybe because I've "moved on" enough that I can't get back into that emotional space, nor do I want to. Thank you all for reading and commenting. There will be a brief epilogue to follow.

Chapter 9

Mycroft stood in the kitchen, arms outstretched and hands splayed flat on the marble countertop. His head hung down, defeated. He really needed to get some control over his emotions; he could feel his heart racing. It would do neither of them any good if he was worrying about worrying. He hated seeing Gregory so unwell and he had no idea if he was being reassuring or comforting or being what Gregory needed right now. A few years ago, he would have never been having such self-doubt, but Gregory had broken through his icy exterior and warmed his heart and soul. And now, he worried about his abilities to be in such a relationship, to love someone so much and not be able to help them. It was rather overwhelming. He took several slow, deep breaths in an attempt to reduce his anxiety.

Sniffling, he raised a hand to rub at his irritated and itchy eyes. It also wouldn’t do for him to be suffering either; he made a mental reminder to fetch his allergy pills as soon as dinner was ready.

Mycroft filled the kettle for tea and then removed chicken soup from the fridge and heated it up on the stovetop. While the soup heated through, he sliced thick French bread and filled the teapot.

The prickling sensations within his sinuses built to a crescendo, and he tried futilely, to rub his nose into his shoulder. He hated sneezing in the kitchen; it was so unhygienic. Unfortunately, rubbing his nose made it worse and he nearly bent over double from the ferocity of the sneezes, quickly turning away from the countertop.

Mmmpftish! MmmmINGHtighsh! Ish! Tish’ooo!

He paused on the precipice of another sneeze, his breath hitching teasingly.

Heh’NGISH! Mmmpftish! Mmmpftinghsh! MmmpfTIGshooo!

“God bless you,” came a hoarse voice from the doorway.

Blushing scarlet, Mycroft turned to look at Gregory, wrist pressed up against his nose. “Thank you,” he said. “Apologies.”

Gregory smiled. “You’re welcome. I figured it’d be easier if we ate in here.”

“If you are sure you are up to it, Gregory.” Mycroft sniffled, his wrist still pressed to the underside of his damp, irritated nostrils. He was unsure if he was done sneezing; he could feel taunting tickle still present, lurking within his sinuses.

“I’m pretty sure I can handle sitting at the table,” Gregory said teasingly. “Oh, and here,” he added, handing over the allergy pill and fresh handkerchief. “I thought you could use this. It looks like I was right.”

Mycroft smiled gratefully, still flushing and embarrassed, accepting the items. “Thank you, my dear.” He removed his wrist from his nose and quickly brought the handkerchief up to his twitching nostrils and let a stream of harsh sneezes into it.

Heh’DNGISH! ING’MMFPTIGHshhhh! Gn’TNSGH’SHHHH! Heh’TISSSHH-ooo!

“Christ, love. God bless you again,” Gregory croaked out.

“Thank you. My apologies once again,” he said unnecessarily before blowing his nose carefully, not wanting to trigger another bout of sneezes. He then dry-swallowed the small pill and dabbed at his nose with the cloth, shoulders slumping. He detested spring and how his body’s immune system chose to respond.

“Hey, you ok?” Gregory asked gently as he moved closer to Mycroft. He squeezed his arm reassuringly.

“Yes, thank you,” Mycroft said. “In hindsight, I should have started my antihistamine regimen sooner.” He didn’t mention his building anxieties.

“You were distracted,” Gregory said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“My dear, please do not think it is your fault. It is entirely my own,” Mycroft said with a sniff. He couldn’t believe that he had been so unfocused. He dabbed at his long nose again.

If to assuage his guilt, (or possibly to make himself feel better), Gregory enveloped Mycroft in a hug.

After they broke apart from their embrace, Gregory asked if there was anything he could do. Mycroft waved him away, and he sat down at the table.

Mycroft brought over the bread and then returned to the stove to check on the soup. Pleased that it had heated all the way through, he ladled it out into bowls and brought them over to the table.

Gregory smiled his thanks and dipped a piece of bread into his soup, burning his tongue as he took a bite. Mycroft had to chuckle at his impatience and got back up to fetch them each a glass of water.

As he sat back down, he glanced over at his partner. A far-away look was etched across Gregory’s features, and he quickly ducked his head down into the crook of his arm.

HRDSCHHhhhh! Heh . . . Huh’hrahhhshhhfff!

“Goodness. God bless you, Gregory.”

Sniffling thickly, Gregory grabbed his napkin and blew his nose.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, blushing slightly. Mycroft must think he was rather disgusting at this point, sniffling and sneezing everywhere. “And thank you,” he added, his voice thick with congestion.

Mycroft rubbed at his eyes again, the itching was beginning to be inconvenient, and it was just the beginning of the season. He sighed wearily and put his soup spoon down.

Gregory frowned. Despite the havoc of his own emotions, he couldn’t help but notice that Mycroft seemed not himself, even more so than before. Reaching over, he placed a hand over Mycroft’s and squeezed.

Mycroft looked up into Gregory’s brown eyes, reading everything there. “Apologies, Gregory. The itchiness is rather draining,” he admitted, hoping that the seasonal irritation was enough to keep Gregory from picking up on his anxieties and unease.

Gregory squeezed his hand again. “I think we can both do with a good night’s sleep.”

“You are probably right,” Mycroft said, returning to his soup.

---------

An hour or so later, the pair were getting ready for bed. Mycroft had changed into pajamas and was contemplating reading for a while. He selected a tome and got into bed, the duvet pulled up to his thighs.

A few moments later, Gregory came into the room. He was very quiet and tension was radiating from every pore. He sank down onto the bed and put his head in his hands.

Mycroft marked his place and put the book to the side. Turning to Gregory, he put a hand on his shoulder.

Gregory stiffened under the touch, but then after a moment relaxed into Mycroft’s touch. He coughed into a loose fist, his body trembling from the effort to keep from breaking down.

“What happened, Gregory?” Mycroft asked gently.

Gregory sniffled. “Just adother message from my sister. I just cad’t deal with her ridt now.” He sighed, resigned. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so ill. His throat was sore, his body ached, and he constantly felt on the verge of a sneeze.

Mycroft frowned and began to rub soothing circles on his back. “I am sorry Gregory. I know she can be tiring, but there is little you can do. It is late so, please try not to trouble yourself over this. I believe the term is ‘shake it off’,” Mycroft quipped. Mycroft wasn’t one normally for humour, but he was hopeful that his attempt would be found favourable; he was running out of platitudes and was worried he would need to place another call to Doctor Watson for advice.

In spite of himself, Gregory laughed until he couldn’t keep from coughing any longer. Mycroft got up to fetch him a glass of water. Gregory was barely able to take a sip before his eyes fluttered shut in advance of a harsh sneeze, and he quickly cupped his hands around his nose and mouth.

Huh’huhrahhhSHHhhh!

“God bless you!”

Without removing his hands, Gregory could only nod before succumbing once again.

Huh’huhhrahhhDSCHHH! Huh’ASHHHHhhooo!

“God bless you again, my dear,” Mycroft said, pressing a handkerchief into his hands.

Gregory pressed the handkerchief to his damp, still-flaring nostrils as he waited for the impending sneeze. His breathing stuttered and wavered and his head tipped back in anticipation. He was then thrown forward with the force of the final outburst that ripped at his already aching throat.

Huh’HNGXtishhooo!

“Goodness! God bless you!” Mycroft fretted. Gregory sounded simply awful and those sneezes sounded thick and heady. He wondered if Gregory was developing an infection, especially since he was sneezing far more than normal.

“Thag you,” Gregory croaked out hoarsely, blowing his nose. He was bone-weary and exhausted. He let out an involuntary shiver.

Mycroft got up and came around to Gregory’s side of the bed. He pulled the duvet down and helped Gregory get into bed and then pulled the duvet up and over him. Gregory shuddered again, sniffling wetly.

Biting his lower lip in worry, Mycroft went into the ensuite and retrieved the bottle of Night Nurse. He measured out a dose and handed the small cup to Gregory. “Drink this down and then you can sleep, my dear.”

Shattered, Gregory nodded and swallowed down the medicine, and then slid further under the duvet while Mycroft returned the bottle to the ensuite.

HRDSCHHhhhhooo! Heh’ahhhTISSHsshhhhhooo!

“Oh God,” Gregory moaned out, barely a whisper. His sinuses ached and with every sneeze he could feel the pressure building up behind his eyes.

“God bless you, Gregory,” Mycroft said, slipping back into bed beside his lover.

“Thanks,” Gregory whispered. He snuffled into his handkerchief and then snuggled back toward Mycroft, seeking warmth.

A few moments later, Gregory shuddered and sneezed explosively again, whimpering softly in the aftermath.

Huh’huhrahhhSHHhhh! Heh’HuhhrahhhNGHTshhhooo!

Mycroft sat up and reached over to where he had a stack of handkerchiefs on the nightstand. He pressed one into Gregory’s hands, knowing that the one he was using had to be useless after that very wet outburst.

“God bless,” Mycroft murmured into the darkness. His own nose was suffering a sympathetic twinge, and he rubbed at it, willing it to go away.

“Thags,” the ill man whispered. “I’b sorry,” he added. He felt utterly wretched and germy, and he worried that Mycroft would soon be ill and feeling equally miserable as he was.

“Do not hhhh trouble heh yourself,” Mycroft gasped out before stifling the irritated frenzy of sneezes.

Mmmmpfx! Mmmmmmpfch! Mmmphmfp! Mmmpftish!

“God bless you,” Gregory whispered into the dark. He made a move to turn to check on his partner, but Mycroft pulled him closely to him instead.

“Alright?” Gregory mumbled sleepily.

“Yes, thank you my dear. Apologies.” Mycroft sniffled weakly.

“Stop bloody apologizing,” Gregory grumbled teasingly. He shivered uncontrollably into Mycroft’s warm embrace.

Mycroft wondered if it was from the fever, exhaustion, or nerves. He began to card his fingers through Gregory’s soft silver, hoping to offer comfort. He felt woefully inadequate in supporting his partner through this tough time; he had certainly hoped he had done enough to show he did truly care. He was pleased when a few moments later, he heard Gregory snoring softly.

Mycroft smiled to himself, and placing his palm on Gregory’s bicep, joined him in slumber.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

So happy to see an up date. Poor Mycroft! Allergies and anxiety, a rotten combination. Poor Greg! Is he ever going to feel better?

[AngelEyes]

I love how tender they are with each other!

“Stop bloody apologizing,” Gregory grumbled teasingly. He shivered uncontrollably into Mycroft’s warm embrace.

Yes, Mycroft! Silly man. But adorable.

[matilda3948]

Shattered, Gregory nodded and swallowed down the medicine, and then slid further under the duvet while Mycroft returned the bottle to the ensuite.

HRDSCHHhhhhooo! Heh’ahhhTISSHsshhhhhooo!

“Oh God,” Gregory moaned out, barely a whisper. His sinuses ached and with every sneeze he could feel the pressure building up behind his eyes.

“God bless you, Gregory,” Mycroft said, slipping back into bed beside his lover.

“Thanks,” Gregory whispered. He snuffled into his handkerchief and then snuggled back toward Mycroft, seeking warmth.

A few moments later, Gregory shuddered and sneezed explosively again, whimpering softly in the aftermath.

Aww this bit was so wonderful! I really love this story, Cally.

[cally]

So happy to see an up date. Poor Mycroft! Allergies and anxiety, a rotten combination. Poor Greg! Is he ever going to feel better?

Yes, he is.

Yes, Mycroft! Silly man. But adorable.

Isn't he just?

Aww this bit was so wonderful! I really love this story, Cally.

Thank you. <3

Chapter 10

Gregory slept through the night. He didn’t exactly have pleasant dreams, considering the circumstances, but he slept. He wasn’t certain what woke him at first, but once he was able to blink the sleep from his eyes, he immediately knew.

Mycroft was sitting up in bed, handkerchief pressed to his twitching nose. His eyes looked heavy and teary; dark circles under them made them look sunken. Said eyes fluttered shut and he gave a hitching breath before launching into a prolonged fit of sneezes. It was clear it wasn’t the first fit of the morning.

Hehhhh…….Mmmmpfx! Mmmmmmpfch! Mmmphmfp! Mmmpftish! MmmmINGHtigh’sh! INGH’ish!

Gregory cleared his throat. “G’bless,” he murmured.

Mycroft waved a hand in his direction, and then buried his nose in the cloth again, the ticklish expulsions wracking his entire body.

Mmmphmfp! Mmmpftish! Heh……huh……ING’SHHHHH! ING’MMFPTIGHshhhh! Heh’TISSSSHH! Gn’TNSGH’SHHHH!

Gregory sat up and ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. “Oh love. God bless you! Give me a minute, alright?” He stood up and stretched and made his way to the ensuite.

Mycroft closed his swollen, puffy eyes and leaned against the headboard. How was it possible to feel this miserable? He was certain there were no windows open, but somehow the pollen was still invading his home and torturing his sinuses. He tried to sniff, but he was so terribly congested at this point, that it just made his nose prickle further and he gave it an angry swipe. He knew Gregory was still unwell, and he hated to be a burden to him even when he was healthy. Pinching his nostrils, he rubbed them between his thumb and index finger.

Gregory returned with a glass of water and a small blister packet of pills. “John gave me these a few weeks ago. They are supposed to be the strongest antihistamines you can get. Maybe they’ll help?” Gregory coughed, but it lacked the hacking quality that it had the day before.

“Thag you, my dear,” Mycroft said. He rubbed at his tearing, itchy eyes before swallowing down one of the pills. He was glad he informed Anthea he would be working from home today. He had a feeling that this pill combined with the one he had already taken would knock him out for a few hours at the very least. The first few weeks were always the worst for him.

He looked his partner over. “How are you feeling, Gregory?”

Gregory sniffed experimentally. “Better, thanks. My throat doesn’t hurt anymore and I can almost breathe through ahhh hehh my hehhh nose . . .”

Heh’HRDSCHHhhhh!

Gregory had quickly ducked his head down into his shoulder when the well-timed sneeze finally broke free.

“God bless you!” Mycroft said. He plucked a few tissues free from the box next to him and offered them to his lover.

“Thanks,” Gregory said, giving his nose a thick blow.

“You on the other hand, look miserable, love.”

“It is a minor. . . “ Mycroft began.

“Don’t give me that ‘it’s a minor seasonal irritation’ bullshit,” Gregory interrupted with air quotes. “You look like you’ve been sneezing for hours.”

Mycroft blushed visibly and turned away.

“Oh Mycroft, you poor thing. Why didn’t you wake me, love? You know you don’t have to suffer through this alone.” Gregory reached over and rubbed Mycroft’s arm.

“You needed to hehhhh ahhhh sleep,” Mycroft began before launching into another prolonged fit of increasingly wet sounding sneezes that he directed into his now well-used handkerchief.

MmmmpfTISH! INGTish! Ish! Heh-heh-Mmmmpftish! Huh’tishhhhngxtsh! MmmmINGHtighsh! Mmmpftish! INGHtighsh! Heh’mmmmpfTISH’ish! Heh’TISSSHH-ooo!

“God bless you, God bless you, and God bless you again!” Gregory said, worriedly. Seeing the state of Mycroft’s handkerchief, he got up and fetched him a couple from the bureau. “Here, love. Here’s a clean one,” he said gently. He reached out and wiped a stray tear off Mycroft’s cheek.

“Thag you, Gregory. Apologies,” he whispered before blowing his nose again.

“No apologising today. You’re not a burden or a bother and you can’t help feeling like this; it isn’t your fault, ok?” Gregory pulled Mycroft to him and held him tight.

Reluctantly, Mycroft nodded and relaxed into his lover’s embrace. He hated having to be so vulnerable, but knew Gregory loved him, and that made all the difference.

“Now, you’re going to sit here and rest, ok? I’ll go make us some tea.” Gregory kissed the top of Mycroft’s head.

“Are you sure you are well enough, my dear?” Mycroft asked, his voice was thick with congestion.

Gregory rolled his eyes. “I’m feeling much better and yes, I think I can handle making a pot of tea. Besides, taking care of you, it takes my mind off. . . “ he let his voice trail off as he gave Mycroft another kiss before standing up.

Taking care of Mycroft would definitely keep him from thinking about the events of the week, which was a good thing right now. And he was feeling better, so there was no reason he couldn’t take care of Mycroft, who was clearly miserable; early spring being a difficult time for the younger man.

Mycroft nodded. “Thag you, Gregory,” he said dabbing at his now dripping nose.

“I’ll be right back.” Gregory gave Mycroft a fond smile before heading downstairs.

[AngelEyes]

Oh Glorious Spring! Am I evil? Probably, but this is just, mmmm.

Reluctantly, Mycroft nodded and relaxed into his lover’s embrace. He hated having to be so vulnerable, but knew Gregory loved him, and that made all the difference.

Awwww.

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

Awww...I just feel soooo bad for Mycroft. I can really picture him sitting on the edge of the bed tired, stuffy, sneezing and trying not to wake Gregory.

[cally]

Oh Glorious Spring! Am I evil? Probably, but this is just, mmmm.

Oh yes.

Awww...I just feel soooo bad for Mycroft. I can really picture him sitting on the edge of the bed tired, stuffy, sneezing and trying not to wake Gregory.

That's Mycroft in a nutshell.

Ok. So here's the epilogue. This has been laborious and I am still not 100% thrilled about the entire thing, to be honest. I do thank all of you who have read and commented and messaged me about this work. It's most appreciated.

Chapter 10

Epilogue

A few weeks later, while at a particularly gruesome crime scene, Gregory’s mobile vibrated in his pocket. Thinking it was Mycroft replying to a message, he removed his mobile from his pocket to read it.

The text was not from Mycroft, but rather a Facebook notification from his sister. He didn’t really use the social media site; it did allow him to see pictures of his nieces. His sister had posted pictures of the headstones, now completed with the dates, and tagged him in the photos. Absolutely enraged at the inappropriateness of the post for all the world to see, Gregory let out a primal scream, and threw his mobile at a nearby wall, shattering it into pieces. Not speaking to anyone, he stormed off the crime scene, leaving a confused Donovan (not to mention the SOCO’s) in his wake.

Sherlock, who had been called in to help, had watched the entire situation unfold. He wasn’t entirely sure as to what had happened, but he had a good idea, given the information he had from Mycroft and John about Lestrade’s parents and the events of the past weeks. He walked over to a still puzzled looking Donovan and told her what he had learned about the victim. She was still so surprised by Lestrade’s actions, that she wrote down everything Sherlock said without making any of her usual snide remarks.

By the time Sherlock had recounted everything to Donovan, Lestrade was back, looking sheepish. He apologised, but didn’t give any explanation to the nature of his outburst.

For once, not wanting to add to the situation, Sherlock gave Lestrade the basics of the case, and then with a swirl of his Belstaff, left the crime scene. On his way back to Baker Street, he texted Mycroft to let him know that his Lestrade seemed to be having a particularly bad day and that his mobile was now laying, destroyed in pieces in the street.

Mycroft happened to be home when he received the text from his illustrious brother. He was feeling miserable, what with the astronomically high pollen count that week. He couldn’t get through ten minutes without having a sneezing fit and he had decided that he was better off working from home.

In all honesty, he was feeling wretched. His eyes were close being swollen shut in the mornings; Gregory had taken to fetching him frozen washcloths that he placed over his eyes to help reduce the inflammation. Even with the extra ministrations and the tender touch of his lover, the purplish dark circles under his eyes were even more pronounced than usual. His sinuses were so clogged, sensitive, and irritated that even the sinus massage that Gregory often utilised when Mycroft was feeling at his worst, left him even worse off; a sniffling, sneezing mess that took a long time to recover from. Unconsciously, Mycroft rubbed at his inflamed sinuses and sneezed, wincing in pain.

Hhhhh-heh-Tish! Tish! INGtish! INGH’ish!

Mycroft had a dozen questions for Sherlock, but knew that his extent of brotherly concern was in that text. Instead of pressing his dear brother for details, he opened his laptop and pulled up the relevant CCTV footage. He was unable to see what Gregory had seen on his mobile, but knew whatever it was, it must have been extremely unpleasant to provoke that sort of reaction from his lover.

Sniffing damply, Mycroft reached for his handkerchief; his anxiety over his partner’s behaviour wasn’t deterring his unrelenting hay fever.

Mmmmmpfx! Mmmmpfx! Mmmphmfp! Mmmphmfpx!

Sighing, he attempted to focus on a briefing that needed his notes; he could do nothing until Gregory came home. He rubbed at his swollen, sore eyes and began to read.

Given that Sherlock had been so helpful at the crime scene, Lestrade had little to do besides paperwork. He was going to head back to NSY to complete it, when Donovan stopped him, her hand gentle on his arm.

“Is everything ok, Greg?” They had been on a first name basis for some time now, but they tended not to use them. She thought it might be less threatening if she approached him as a friend, and not as his sergeant.

Lestrade looked down at the ground. “Just some family stuff. Sorry, I just have had it up to here with it, you know?” He sighed heavily.

“Look, there’s not much else to do besides paperwork. Why don’t you just take the rest of the afternoon off?”

Lestrade ran a hand thought his hair. “You’re probably right. Thanks Sal, for taking care of this, yeah?”

“Don’t mention it. See you tomorrow,” she said, walking over to the squad car.

Gregory sighed heavily and trudged over to his car. He suddenly felt very tired, like the weight of the world was upon his shoulders.

Gregory found Mycroft in the midst of what appeared to be a prolonged, drawn out sneezing fit when he arrived home. Mycroft was curled in on himself, sitting in his study, his body wracked and trembling with the stifled expulsions.

Hehhhh…….Mmmmpfx! Mmmmmmpfch! Mmmphmfp! Mmmpftish! MmmmINGHtigh’sh! INGH’ish!

Gregory winced at the painful sounding stifles. He put a hand on Mycroft’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “God bless you. Love, please stop holding them back like that; you’re going to end up with an infection or something!”

Mycroft looked up from the depths of his handkerchief, eyes damp and red-rimmed. He opened his mouth to retort, but instead his breath hitched and he plunged behind his damp handkerchief once again.

Heh’NGISH! Mmmpftish! ING’SHHHHH! ING’MMFPTIGHshhhh! Heh’TISSSSHH! Gn’TNSGH’SHHHH! Tish’SNGHISHooo! Heh’TISSSHH-ooo!

“God bless you again, and again,” Gregory said, frowning. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his handkerchief. “Here, love,” he offered.

Mycroft nodded and accepted the fresh cloth. “Thag you. Apologies,” he muttered through thick congestion. He felt like he was drowning in his own bodily fluids. After taking a few minutes to blow his nose carefully, he studied his lover.

“What happened Gregory?” Mycroft asked him finally. He was worried about his partner; he looked drained. Mycroft rubbed at his pink-tinged nostrils with the handkerchief, tired of the continuous, prickling tickle.

Gregory sank back onto the sofa and sighed heavily. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “She posted pictures of the headstones on Facebook with the final dates and tagged me in them. Who does that?” Exasperated, he ran a hand through his silver hair, frustrated.

Mycroft reached over and squeezed Gregory’s hand. “That does seem rather morbid, I must say. You shouldn’t let her get to you, my ahhh hehh dear, oh do excuse heh me,” he managed to get out.

Ahhhhh….. heh……..Mmmpftinghsh! INGHtighsh! MmmpfTIGisssshh! INGISHHHHH! Huh’Hng’ISSH! Hng’mmpftishooo!

“God bless you,” Gregory said as he wrapped his arms around Mycroft and pulled him close to him.

“Gregory, ahhhh hehhh, please,” Mycroft breathed out, as he tried to pull away before succumbing to another vicious flurry of sneezes, nose buried in his handkerchief.

Ahhhh-hhhh-Hehmmmpftish! Tisssssh! Tissssssh! Hehmmmpftish! Hehmmmpftishoooo! Ishoooo!

Gregory embraced him through the ticklish expulsions. “God bless you again and again, love. I hate to see you like this,” he said, kissing him on the top of his head. “I wish I could do something, or share the burden- anything.”

“Thank you, Gregory. Again, my apologies. And my dear, I would not wish this upon anyone,” Mycroft added with a sniffle. “Enough about me, my dear. I have taken the liberty of ordering you a new mobile. It should be here shortly.”

“How did you . . .” Gregory began. “Oh. Sherlock,” he realised.

“My brother was concerned, as much as he can show it, my dear,” Mycroft said. “Are you alright now?” He looked up at Gregory through damp lashes.

“Yeah, I’ve calmed down. I just saw red when I got that notification.” Gregory ran a hand across his face with a sigh.

Mycroft sat up so he could study his lover more carefully. Gregory smiled down at him and kissed him on the forehead.

Mycroft reached up and cupped Gregory’s cheek. The past few weeks had taken so much out of his dear partner. “And overall, how are you feeling?” Mycroft hesitated to ask, to bring up such an obviously sensitive topic again, but Gregory had closed a bit of himself off after his father’s death. Mycroft was unsure how to approach it at the time, and merely focused on nursing Gregory back to physical health as he recovered from a rather nasty cold.

Gregory thought for a moment. He had tried not to dwell on what had happened; there was nothing he could do about it now. He missed his father of course, but it was one of those things that had been inevitable for a long time. As he gathered his thoughts, he was aware of an unwelcome sensation in his sinuses. He wasn’t as immune to the allergens as he used to be. Clapping a hand across his nose and mouth, he turned away from Mycroft.

Huh’hrahhhDSCHHH!

“My goodness. God bless you!”

Gregory sniffed in the aftermath of the ferocious sneeze. “Thanks. Sorry. Not sure where that came from,” he said with a chuckle.

“Hmmm,” Mycroft murmured. “The pollen count is at record levels, Gregory. I am surprised at people who are not affected.”

Gregory returned to his train of thought before he was waylaid by the sneeze. “You asked how I was feeling about everything,” he said.

Mycroft nodded. “If you would rather not discuss it, we do not have to.”

“It’s ok. Some days are better than others, and it’s different from when my mum died; different things make me think of him. I just wish I had time to go back and do things differently.” Gregory gave a weak smile.

Mycroft sniffed again and rubbed at his throbbing sinuses. “I understand Gregory. And as I have said before, we are always going to want just a little bit longer.”

Gregory nodded, working to keep his emotions in tact.

Mycroft could see that Gregory was getting emotional. “What I can say for certain is that I am sure your father would be very proud of the man you have become, my dearest heart.”

Biting his lip, Gregory nodded again. “Thanks, love,” he said softly, willing his voice not to break.

“It is all true, Gregory. Do not think for a moment that I do not believe it as well.” Mycroft reached over and squeezed his hand. “I love you Gregory Lestrade.”

“And I love you, Mycroft Holmes. Thank you, for what you said. It means a lot to me.”

Mycroft nodded. And then he leaned in and kissed Gregory tenderly, hoping that all that was left unsaid was put forth in his kiss.

[ID2006]

Totally had to reread this and your writing was awesome as always

[Subtly Clashing Wishes]

I think you wrapped this up very nicely. I enjoyed reading all of it. Excellent transition from Gregory torture to Mycroft torture. Seamless really. Thank you so much for writing and finishing this entertaining story. I know it takes time and effort to write these, and I really appreciate it.

[AngelEyes]

Feeling as if anything I said about this piece would be highly inept in expressing my feelings for it. What a beautiful journey. The pain coupled with such loving support. Truly wonderful. Thank you!

[cally]

Totally had to reread this and your writing was awesome as always

Awww thank you so much! It's really appreciated!

I think you wrapped this up very nicely. I enjoyed reading all of it. Excellent transition from Gregory torture to Mycroft torture. Seamless really. Thank you so much for writing and finishing this entertaining story. I know it takes time and effort to write these, and I really appreciate it.

Thanks. I had a hard time deciding how I was going to end it, and I had thought about ending it a year later on the anniversary, but that felt a bit trite to me. So, as usual, I went with how things had actually happened with me- only I didn't throw my mobile at a wall (I did want to)!!! Too bad I don't have a Mycroft to take care of me!

I think (unless I am somehow struck with inspiration) that I will be sticking with drabbles for the foreseeable future, given the fact that I do have SO much work to finish!

Feeling as if anything I said about this piece would be highly inept in expressing my feelings for it. What a beautiful journey. The pain coupled with such loving support. Truly wonderful. Thank you!

Thank you. It was hard to write at the beginning for emotional reasons and harder toward the end, just in trying to get it done because I wanted to finish it.

[matilda3948]

What a sweet story! I love the epilogue. It's fascinating and sad to see Greg lose his temper. Bravo!!

[AngelEyes]

Too bad I don't have a Mycroft to take care of me!

We all need a Mycroft to take care of us!

[cally]

What a sweet story! I love the epilogue. It's fascinating and sad to see Greg lose his temper. Bravo!!

Thank you. The epilogue was really hard to write because I felt like I was leaving out a whole "big story" with Gregory still ill and depressed. But it had gone on for WAY too long, and I really just wanted to have it completed so I could move on.

It was easy to write Gregory losing his temper like that, because I felt the exact same way. When my sister tagged me in the photos on FB I was enraged and it took all the energy I had to NOT throw my laptop across the room. I felt violated and uncomfortable. There are things that I just do not think belong on FB and grave sites are one of those things. I had told her this before when she did it when our mum died, but apparently it didn't get through her thick skull.

Too bad I don't have a Mycroft to take care of me!

We all need a Mycroft to take care of us!

I need one right now.

[katy693]

I love this story so much, thank you!