I'm not a Goldfish, Mycroft Holmes

I'm Sorry

(Sorry if this chapter sucks, and its quite short but school's been kicking my ass lately, I had a project I had to finish and a test coming up in my Social Sciences class, so its been a mess, but I promise a better chapter is coming soon, in a few days, hopefully.)

Her alarm screeched at her with a vengeance, she groaned and slammed her fist on the clock until she hit the stop button. Moving like a sloth, she made it to the bathroom, turning on the tap she splashed her face with cold water to wake herself up before brushing her teeth. She went through her morning skin care routine, it was lengthy but effective, she remembered her acne days from Secondary School and didn't wish to replicate having a face that reminded her of a pepperoni pizza. She did her makeup next and brushed her hair.
Walking out into the living room she put a pod and water in her Keurig and pressed the start button.
With coffee and breakfast of toast, peanut butter and banana slices, she sat at the kitchen table, grading the last few tests she didn't finish last night.
Her phone chimed with a message alert when she bit into the toast. She picked it up and checked it, chewing her breakfast.
(Good morning, darling. Hope you have a good day. -Mycroft.)
He signed his texts with his first name now, which made her smile.
She finished her breakfast and continued getting ready for work.

Alice was halfway to the doors when she got a phone call.
"Hello?" She answered, from the sounds coming from the background it sounded like a hospital.
"Is this Alice Jones?"
"Speaking, who's this?"
"I'm doctor Derrick from St. Bartholomew's Hospital."
She sighed into the phone, "has Sherlock gotten into something he shouldn't have?"
"No ma'am, its about your brother Blake Jones."
Alice stopped dead in her tracks, she could hear her heartbeat in her ears, bile rose up her throat, she feared the worst, she didn't know what to say, what to think. Her body vibrated and her mouth was as dry as a desert.
"Is he...what happened?"
"He's been in a very serious car accident, you were listed as his emergency contact..."
His voice faded from her ears, she didn't remember ending the phone call or getting into her car, driving down the road.
The numbness spread throughout her body made it impossible to remember what she was doing, who she was talking too.
When she came to her senses she was standing outside the large window, looking into the ICU. He was covered in bandages and bruises, cuts covered his face and arms from the glass. The boy he had been in the car with hadn't survived.
Alice had called Mycroft, she tried calling Mycroft, again and again and again and again, leaving shaky, tear-filled voicemails.
Eventually she called Sherlock's phone, he was down in the lab so it didn't take long for him and John to find her.
John ran up to her, offering his arms for comfort as she hugged him. Sherlock stood around awkwardly, "I'm sorry, Alice." He said. She wiped her eyes, red and irritated, they were beginning to puff up from the rubbing, her mascara was a complete mess and she had tear streaks in her foundation.
"Have you called Mycroft?" He asked, knowing he could offer more comfort than he could, not as much as John but enough.
"Yes, I've l-l-left m-messages but i-it - it keeps going to v-v-voicemail..."
Sherlock excused himself, taking his phone out of his pocket as he left.
Alice slumped down on the wall, pressing her hands to her eyes, trying to stop a new wave of tears. John was right there, rubbing her shoulders and whispering that it was going to be okay.

Sherlock dialled Mycroft's number, to his surprise he answered.
"Hello, Brother mine."
"What is it Sherlock? I'm terribly busy."
"Its Alice."
"What's wrong?"
"Her brother's been in a automobile accident and is in intensive care, your girlfriend is beside herself and cant stop blubbering, she's called you a dozen times and yet your not here when she needs you the most." He growled into the phone, letting out the protective nature he reserved only for his friends and people he cares about.
"Athena, push my meeting for tomorrow morning." He said away from the phone, "I'll be there in a moment, do keep calm, it does wonders for appearances." He hung up.

Sherlock walked back and knelt down, his eyes were soft, "I called Mycroft, he'll be here soon."
Alice nodded.
"I'll go get you a gatorade, you need electrolytes," John said, standing up.

Mycroft came down the hall, Alice pushed herself away from Sherlock and ran to him, almost knocking the giant man over. Mycroft put a hand on her waist delicately and flattened her hair down with a gloved hand while she cried into his tie.
"Oh Alice, I'm so sorry." He whispered so only she could hear. "I should've picked up sooner."
"You were busy, I understand." She said, her voice was hoarse and croaky, fading in and out with every other word.
"Have they let you in yet?"
She shook her head.
A nurse came by, placing a hand on her shoulder, "I'm sorry but we're going to ask all of you to wait in the waiting room."
Alice nodded, finally realizing that they're taking up the hallway.
"We'll call you if there's any sign of improvement."
"Thank you."
Mycroft lead her away and down the all, opening the door for her. He picked the most comfortable chair he could find to sit her in. She curled up, wrapping her arms around her legs.
Sherlock and John kept their distance, knowing Mycroft could take it from here, but they didn't leave her completely.
"Do you want something to drink?" Mycroft whispered against her forehead.
"No," she sniffed and wiped her eyes.
"Is there anything I can get you?"
"Just stay," she whispered, "please."

All night they attended to him, trying to keep him stable, but he kept slipping through their fingers.
In the waiting room, Mycroft was doing work on his phone with his free hand, currently Alice had a death grip on his left arm and her head was on his shoulder, she passed out from exhaustion, Mycroft let her sleep, he would wake her up at the first sign of news.
Sherlock and John had retreated away downstairs.
The middle aged man sighed and shut his phone off, looking at Alice, her face was calm and free of worry as she slept against him. Mycroft grabbed one of her hands and kissed each one of her fingers.
"He'll be okay."

He wasn't okay.
The doctor came by with news, hanging his head solemnly, he died from his injuries. Mycroft held Alice as she wailed, rocking her back and fourth. "Its my fault," she sobbed, "its my fault."
"No, no its not your fault."
She held onto his tie, desperately like a child. "It was my job to protect him, I was supposed to protect him, but I couldn't..."

It was two in the morning when he dragged her out of the hospital, taking her directly to his house.
She couldn't gawk and the grandness and splendour, moving on numb legs.
Mycroft led her directly too his bedroom and sat her down on his super king bed. He undressed her gently, leaving her underwear on and giving her a shirt to sleep in. Taking her hand he laid her in bed before walking to the other side of the bedroom.
"Don't go," she whispered brokenly.
"I'll be with you in a second darling." He said, "I'd prefer not to sleep in my suit."
She couldn't tear her eyes away as he changed into his pyjamas before crawling in beside her, keeping a foot of distance between them, but she wouldn't have it. Rolling over she whined pitifully and attached herself to his shoulder, her legs wrapping around his hips.
Mycroft sighed and rolled onto his side, opening his arms for her to readjust, he wrapped himself around her, rubbing soothing circles into her back.