Mystrade Oneshots

29) (II) Really Actually Mycroft

Soulmate AU
A part two, enjoy.

Greg folded his coat collar up and pulled it up around his face as he walked.

The rain dripped down the front of his hair, landing gracefully onto his eyelashes before being cast out into the cold with one swift blink.

"Bloody Sherlock. Why tonight of all nights does he want to see me?" He grumbled, deciding that next time the consulting detective wanted to 'consult' him, he'd stay in bed and put Fawlty Towers on.

That being said, he shot Mrs Hudson a warm smile as he walked in before trudging up the stairs to where Sherlock was waiting for him.

"Hello Graham." The man greeted him and he sighed.

He was far too tired to correct anyone on what his own bloody name was tonight. I mean, it's a four letter word, and 'Mr Mind Palace' couldn't remember it? No. He had to he doing it on purpose.

"Listen Sherlock, can we make this quick? I really need to-"

"Mycroft!"

The word rang through Greg's mind. It seemed so important yet he couldn't quite grasp what it was or what it meant.

"Yes, hello brother dear," The voice came from the doorway, and Greg turned to see that a tall thin man had appeared behind him, "ah, you've got company."

"Graham's hardly company. What do you want?"

The man scoffed. "It's a private matter. We will discover it another time." With that, he turned to leave.

"Wait, no! Don't go!" Greg yelled reaching out for the retreating body of this mysterious Holmes brother.

The man stopped and gave him a curious look. Greg didn't blame him, he would've given himself a curious look too. He turned to Sherlock and gestured to the man. "Did- Did you say Mycroft?"

"Yes, Mycroft Holmes, my brother," Sherlock repeated, "are you quite alright, Graham? You're white as a sheet."

Greg just took his watch off and gently tried to rub away the red mark it caused on his skin, trying to make the name underneath just a little bit clearer. He then held it up towards Mycroft, so the man could see they were soulmates.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," those words, those words delivered with such genuine sorrow, it broke Greg, "but my soulmate is called 'Gregory,' not 'Graham.' But I wish you the best of luck, good day."

With that, Mycroft turned to leave and Greg could have screamed.

"W-wait! Please, I-"

Greg, who was closer to tears than he ever would be to a coherent sentence, couldn't seem to splutter out an explanation that his name actually was 'Gregory.'

"For Christ's sake, his name is Greg!"

Everybody stopped and looked at where that outburst had come from. It was John, who up until this point had been nursing a cup of tea in his armchair. He had also had enough of this calamity.

"Is it?" Sherlock enquired. "Why didn't he just say that then?"

"Not now, Sherlock." John responded, nodding towards where both Greg and Mycroft where staring at each other.

Mycroft had paused at the top of the stairs when John yelled and had very slowly turned around, walking until he was back in the doorway. "You're Gregory?"

Greg just sniffed and nodded, trying to take in everything about the man he'd imagined for so long in so many different ways.

It was funny, as Mycroft looked over the man, soaked through from head to toe, silver hair clinging to his forehead, raindrops mixing with tears on his cheeks, he didn't know how he could have been so stupid as to think for one second that this man wasn't his soulmate.

He moved forward, almost hesitantly, and gently cupped Greg's face in his hand. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He whispered, looking into his soulmate's big sad brown eyes. "I didn't know it was you, I should have known."

Greg just broke into a dumb grin and leaned into the very welcome warmth the other man's hand provided on his face. "S'ok. I blame Sherlock for never being able to remember my name."

"Well if it helps," Mycroft started, in a tone softer than he'd ever used before, "I've never been able to forget it, and trust me when I say, I never will."