A Second Chance- MYCROFT x Reader Split Chpt. 11

(A/n- As you can see it's officially split and after this chapter I will be labeling all Mycroft chapters ASC- Starting Over and all John chapters ASC- A New Friend)

You floundered for a second and then sighed, tossing Sherlock a roll of tools, “Go let John out of his room. I’ll explain to Mycroft.”

Sherlock started to protest, a little concerned as to how his brother would handle it, but you had already turned to back to look up at the man as you demanded, “Keep your eyes closed- this stuff stings.”

Mycroft huffed but did as you asked and you gently took his arm to lead him back into his room as you waved a hand for Sherlock to shoo. You brought him to a chair near the fireplace, deducing that he’d probably been sitting there before from the papers and glass of scotch, and carefully pushed him down into it, “If you would just sit still for a moment. I’ll get some things to clean you up.”

“I wouldn’t need your help if you and Sherlock didn’t insist on acting like children,” he snapped as you went to his bathroom and wet a towel.

“I know it seems childish to you but it’s a way for Sherly and I to keep sharp. We both put ourselves in situations that require quick thinking and tactical solutions in order to come away unscathed- this helps… besides it’s terribly fun,” you offered, returning to where he sat with pursed lips. You leaned over, tilting his face up towards you with gentle fingertips on his chin, and delicately wiped the paint away from his eyes with the towel, “Though I will admit- I’m fairly certain Sherlock shot you on purpose.”

“That is not surprising,” he puffed softly in a little tiff.

“You can open now. I’m almost done,” you murmured, hoping his anger had dissipated a little bit as his eyes flickered open. They widened slightly when he saw how close you were and you offered him a small smile, “Hey.”

“Hello,” he breathed quietly and you let out a soft giggle, continuing to clean the rest of his face as he looked up at you. The light from the fire lit up his eyes in the most intriguing way and you kept glancing up at them as he did some observing of his own, watching the warm shadows flicker across your face- your lips gently parted with your tongue peeking out slightly in concentration. Giving one last careful sweep, you hummed, “There,” before straightening and nervously offering, “I’m sorry you got caught up in our antics. I just wanted to have a little fun with Sherlock… it’s been so long. I just-Will you forgive me?”

He stood and reached forward to take your hands in his in an attempt to stop their fidgeting, making you look up from the floor as he offered you a small reassuring smile, “There is nothing to forgive (F/n). You were not the one who shot me.”

You were visibly surprised, having expected him to yell or at least reprimand you, and scrutinized him warily from underneath your lashes as he pursed his lips. His hand came up to trace the blue splotch on your shoulder where Sherlock had hit you, “You didn’t come away unscathed either but you did beat my brother and I find that immensely satisfying.”

You chuckled and gave a slight nod, “He doesn’t have the finesse required to use the windows like I do. At night it is a definite advantage.”

He thought about that for a moment and then seemed conflicted, taking hold of both your hands again before staring at you with a sudden fiery intensity, “(F/n)… there is something I must say- if you will listen…”

Equally conflicted, you squeezed his hands both out of nervousness and encouragement as you gave a hesitant nod and he continued, “You ask me for forgiveness when it should be reversed… the way I have acted for so long… I know it has hurt you in ways that I cannot even begin to understand and for that I offer my sincerest apologies. If you can forgive me… I’d like to start again.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, you pulled away to turn your back to him, chewing at your lip in thought for a moment before quietly answering, “I can forgive you Mycroft… honestly I think I had already done so years ago- but starting over will not be easy for me. Would you mind terribly if I took some time to think on it?”

He pulled a face, trying to be a friend was harder than he thought and all these emotions… so complicated and tedious- but he was committed. He'd apologized for Heaven's sake. He gave a sigh of his own, running a hand down his face, “Of course not. I’ve asked a lot of you.”

You turned to face him again just as the door burst open and Sherlock and John literally tumbled in causing you to giggle softly, moving to help John up from his place on top of Sherlock, “I see Sherlock has freed you. I’m sorry for locking you in… I needed to insure he wouldn’t follow.” He grinned at you once he was on his feet and you hastily added, “Oh… and for using you as a meat shield. I apologize for that as well.”

“It’s alright (F/n). No harm done… A small price to pay to have a pretty lady burst through my window,” John chuckled, offering you the most adorable grin.

You blushed deeply as you giggled back, “I would burst through windows more often if I was always met with a handsome man on the other side.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes and Mycroft shot John an ominous glare but the two of you didn’t notice as John flashed you a goofy grin and you let out a soft laugh that turned into a large yawn. Sherlock frowned, quickly calculating the time difference and the number times you’d already said you were tired before grabbing the neck of your shirt to drag you toward the door, “Come on. I want to get this story over and done with.”

You rolled your eyes as you gave a triumphant smirk, “You’re just miffed that I won… besides even after you do-I still have three hugs.”

He pulled an unamused face as he grumbled, “Don’t remind me,” and gave you another little tug so you’d follow him as John chuckled and Mycroft raised an eyebrow. You gave a little wave in their direction as you yawned, “Good night boys,” and then spun to take up Sherlock’s hand, effectively reversing your roles as you dragged him down the hall towards the stairs to go up to your room.

You went to change and he flopped down on your bed as he hummed, “You and Mycroft seem to be getting on well.”

You appeared in the doorway to your bathroom in your pajamas, “… he apologized to me. That’s not normal for him right?”

Sherlock cocked an eyebrow, rolling to prop himself up on his elbows so he could look at you, “He apologized?”

Nodding, you pounced on your bed to flop across his back, “He did… said he wanted to start over.”

He tickled your side so you would get off him as he asked, “What did you say?”

You moved so that you were both looking up at the ceiling next to each other, admiring the constellations you’d drawn up there together when you were going through an astronomy phase, “I told him I’d have to think about it. A rift over fifteen years in the making isn’t just going to disappear in one night, no matter what we’ve discovered about each other.”

Sherlock pursed his lips, his thoughts racing as to what Mycroft might be playing at, and you sighed, snuggling into his side as you waited for him to come out of his thoughts. You could tell it had been a long time since he’d let loose and had some fun- normally your matches were a lot closer than that. You had hoped that maybe John was able to draw out the more human side of Sherlock, as you did when he allowed it, but it seemed that was something he reserved for you and only you.

Breathing in his scent deeply, you took advantage of the obliviousness that came with his deep thinking and started messing with his hair, realizing just how much you’d actually missed him in the time you’d been gone. You laughed when he flatly stated, “If you don’t stop that I’m going to count it as one of your hugs.”

“What kind of sister would I be if I didn’t take advantage of your fretting?”

“I wasn’t fretting.”

“You so were. I know you and that was definitely your fretting face.”

“Was not.”

“Was so.”

He rolled his eyes, “It’s not up for debate (F/n). Now pick a book.”

“Everything is up for debate. You taught me that,” you hummed, rolling to the floor to retrieve a book from one of the stacks under your bed. He heard you yawn again and moved to look over the edge of the bed, “You’re exhausted.”

“Stop trying to get out of reading to me,” you huffed, sticking the book you’d chosen up in the air above your head for him to take before tiredly prying yourself off the floor to crawl under the covers. He sat cross-legged next to you, shaking his head with a soft half smile as he ran his fingers over the book’s cover, “I should have known you’d pick The Hobbit.”

You smirked, “I said a story but I never said it had to be read in one sitting.”

“You also never said who got to choose it.”

He watched your face fall into a pout as he gave a satisfied smirk and then added, “But I approve of your choice.”

You grinned sleepily and poked him with your foot as you yawned, “Well get to it then.”

“Rude,” he grumbled and you giggled as he cracked in open and began to read, only getting a few pages in before he looked over to see you’d fallen asleep. He sighed heavily, as much as he’d missed you it was easier when you were gone- it made him feel like he didn’t have to worry as much. He knew you could take care of yourself but when you were right in front of him that fact didn’t matter and all he could do was worry.

This whole Mycroft thing in particular was bothering him… what did his brother want with you? He certainly wasn’t going to let him put you through that whole mess all over again if he was just messing with you but there was a chance he was genuine- he could never tell with Mycroft. He gave your leg a little fond pat as he started to get lost in his thoughts again, sliding off your bed to pad back to his own room for the night.