Here Comes The Rain Again (Or, How Greg Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the British Government) - BBC Sherlock

[cally]

He trailed off and Greg realised that he was clutching the cloth of Greg’s sleeve as though afraid he would go away. Maybe all Mycroft’s flinching and steely exterior wasn’t caused by an aversion to physical contact – it was because he was touch-starved. Greg swallowed past a sudden lump in his throat.

Oh Mycroft.

I'm so sad this is almost over.

[YouAreHawTCHEW!]

Poor Mycroft! It really is a wonder how long he must've held those walls up.

Now excuse me as I cry from the feels!

If Mycroft ever needs another career, he should think about bricklaying - those walls he's building could last for DECADES. (Even if they do collapse at the vaguest hint of a hug.)

Agree, and I don't think there would be this much st ress for the poor guy.

But awwww, we got them cuddling!

[AngelEyes]

Definitely Awwww!

[bangbang]

And here we go. Thank you all so, so much for reading; a 30 part story probably isn't the perfect medium for here and I'm so grateful you all stuck with me until the end. For someone who never finishes anything, I'm super amazed to have actually made it this far. I couldn't have done it without all your fantastic comments; who knew I could get so much love for brutally torturing poor Mycroft? I am so sad that this adventure is over - but keep an eye out on this board (and, um, the Adult one?), because I won't be leaving these two to their own devices any time soon.

Part 30 - In which we reach the end.

====

Mycroft dozed for almost half an hour, and Greg watched his eyes flicker beneath shadowed lids. However, his rest didn’t last long; a short, dry coughing fit jolted him awake and had Greg passing him water and rubbing his back.

He was pleased to notice that Mycroft’s cough was far less chesty than before and sounded less painful – he seemed to have avoided developing anything bronchial. However, the cold was still firmly in his head; after coughing, he drew in a long, shuddering breath and then lurched away with a violent “hhhRRRRSHHHHOOO!”

“Bless you,” said Greg, reaching for the tissues; Mycroft had sneezed into cupped hands and even now was caught in erratic hitches for another explosion. He hastily took the tissues off Greg just in time.

“HHHRSHH! YIHHHHSHHHOOO! HHHH-AAAH!RRRSSHH! ISH!ISH!ISHHH! hhehhh…hahh-hhhHHH!RRSSHHOOOO!”

Greg carried on tracing calming circles over Mycroft’s shoulders. “Bless you.”

“Thank you.” Mycroft leaned against him, still loosely gripping his tissues, and sniffled. “You’ll have to excuse me.” There was a hard undercurrent of congestion in his voice.

“Can I get you anything?” Greg put the back of his hand against Mycroft’s forehead – his fever had broken, and the clamminess had gone. Finally, he seemed to be over the worst of it, even if he still couldn’t stop sneezing.

Mycroft looked up at Greg through heavy-lidded eyes in a way that would be almost sultry if he didn’t look so bloody tired. “Tea would be wonderful, thank you. If you don’t mind.”

Greg sighed. “Of course I don’t mind. You’re not well.”

“It’s just a cold, albeit aaah – hhh! HHHH!” Mycroft ducked his head under his elbow away from Greg and sneezed again. “NNNSHOOOO!”

“Bless you.” Greg offered him the tissue box and Mycroft blew his nose.

“Thank you. It’s just a cold - albeit a rather bad one, even by my standards, but a cold all the same. Please don’t feel obliged to stay – I have everything I need and you’ve gone rather above and beyond the call of duty so far. This will pass in a few days’ time.”

Greg sighed. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

Mycroft drew back a little; his expression was vaguely reminiscent of a deer in the headlights, and Greg put his arm over his shoulders as reassurance. “Get what?” Mycroft asked, sounding tentative.

“I don’t know – the fact that I’m not doing this out of some kind of duty, I’m here because I want to take care of you? Come on. You’re feeling lousy – don’t argue, I can tell – and you just need to let go and relax for a bit or you’re not going to get better.”

Mycroft was silent for a second and Greg thought he’d gone too far – but then Mycroft rested against him again and said, “You’re right.”

“Never thought I’d hear those words from a Holmes,” Greg joked.

“While I’d normally deny any similarity with my brother, I have to admit that we’re both a little stubborn – which I’m aware is an understatement, before you laugh.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Greg, trying to hide his grin, and sashayed off to the kitchen as Mycroft rolled his eyes and dabbed at his nose.

====

Greg brought the tea out, after navigating the terrifyingly fancy kitchen – he was getting used to it. He made to hand Mycroft’s cup over, but was stopped by fingers clenching loosely on his wrist to halt him. Mycroft was half bent away from him, so his profile was clearly visible to Greg.

Clutching a tissue in the hand not holding Greg’s arm, he drew a shaky breath in. His arched, narrow nostrils twitched irritably, eyes hovering closed as he stayed trembling slightly on the precipice, before diving forward with a short, congested fit.“hhhIIISSSHHHHH! HHHH-hh!SHOO! HEH-IIISSSH! ISH-OOO!”

Greg felt the force of it shudder up through his arm, and then Mycroft released him and sighed. The bridge of his nose crinkled slightly as he discarded the tissue and accepted the tea. “Thank you,” he said, as Greg murmured a blessing.

Greg settled into the cushions of the sofa and put his arm around Mycroft. Slouching down, he was just about the perfect height for Greg to tuck under his shoulder and rest their heads together. Greg felt like one part of an intersecting puzzle, as though this space had always been here, waiting for him to arrive.

Mycroft shifted so he was looking askance at Greg. “Thank you,” he said, still hoarse, still exhausted, but regal and vulnerable and beautiful in a way he hadn’t imagined, “for everything.”

“No.” Greg reached out one hand and, carefully, tilted Mycroft’s jaw towards him. “Thank you.”

And then he leaned in, and Mycroft didn’t pull away. Instead, he tipped his head and met Greg’s lips, and Greg closed his eyes because he didn’t think he could cope with that many senses being active at once.

There was a tiny voice in his head, the one that he supposed was his instinct. And it whispered to him, this is where you belong. And Greg, kissing Mycroft Holmes, couldn’t argue with that.

====

THE END

[YouAreHawTCHEW!]

What a beautiful way to end it. It's kind of sad that it's over, but it's an amaizing story, the kind that I'll be reading multiple times in future.

Thank you for introducing me to Mystrade and delivering something so beautiful.

[cally]

Greg settled into the cushions of the sofa and put his arm around Mycroft. Slouching down, he was just about the perfect height for Greg to tuck under his shoulder and rest their heads together. Greg felt like one part of an intersecting puzzle, as though this space had always been here, waiting for him to arrive.

BRB sobbing forever

I am so, so sad this is over, but it is such a perfect and lovely piece of work.

[BlueGirl]

I agree with M.L; so sad that it's over, but what a lovely fic!

[Spoo]

Greg sighed. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

Mycroft drew back a little; his expression was vaguely reminiscent of a deer in the headlights, and Greg put his arm over his shoulders as reassurance. “Get what?” Mycroft asked, sounding tentative.

Awwwwwww. Mycroft, dear, you're supposed to be scary!smart. How can you not see?

Greg felt like one part of an intersecting puzzle, as though this space had always been here, waiting for him to arrive.

*incoherent squeaky blubbering*

This is seriously one of the best, most beautiful Mystrade stories I've ever had the pleasure of reading. The progression of the characters - from start to finish - was just amazing. I can't express to you how much I love this fic, nor can I properly describe how grateful I am that you decided to share it with us. Thank you, bangbang! This is something I will happily read over and over again.

[matilda3948]

This is seriously one of the best, most beautiful Mystrade stories I've ever had the pleasure of reading. The progression of the characters - from start to finish - was just amazing. I can't express to you how much I love this fic, nor can I properly describe how grateful I am that you decided to share it with us. Thank you, bangbang! This is something I will happily read over and over again.

Yes! All of this! ^^^ So lovely, skillfully developed, and the payoff is so wonderful. Thank you for all the time you put into this marvelous story!

[ID2006]

Sooooo good. And I can't help but add, this is just BEGGING for a sequel with Greg having caught this.

[AngelEyes]

There was a tiny voice in his head, the one that he supposed was his instinct. And it whispered to him, this is where you belong. And Greg, kissing Mycroft Holmes, couldn’t argue with that.

The perfect ending to an Epic tale! Thank you for sharing!

but keep an eye out on this board (and, um, the Adult one?), because I won't be leaving these two to their own devices any time soon.

Oh, Yes, Please!!!!

[Wildwood]

GOD BLESS YOU AND THIS STORY My heart hurts now that it's over but the ride was most enjoyable! Thank you for the fun times

[Jorm]

I literally don't even know where to start.... I haven't been reading much fanfic for a while now because more often than not I find they end up being disappointingly out of character or tone, but fucking hell man. I just sat here for two solid hours reading this beautiful beast straight through from beginning to end and I'm just... I'm kind of in awe of what you've done here. The care and attention to every little detail that you've devoted to a such an absurd, silly lark as a fetish fic is beyond anything any reader could ask for. I hope you know that you're an incredibly talented writer. And you're love for the material shows! Probably that's part of why I loved this so much, because it goes beyond just Sherlock to an obvious grounding in the original ACD stories. (I spent the first six pages wracking my brain trying to figure out why "Sumatra" sounded so fucking familiar before I got to Spoo's audio comment. Of course! The Giant Rat of Sumatra! For which the world is not ready!) Gattiss and Moffat should really just go ahead and hire you as a writer. And that is seriously not an exaggeration, this is that good. The speech patterns are perfect, absolutely perfect, and I say that as an incredibly picky reader.

Oh yes, and there were some sneezes in there too, weren't there? xD Hot damn, those sneezes! I'm sorry Mycroft, but your fits are just too sexy for me to feel bad for you. Dem torturous, teasing build-ups tho. I can't even. I'm gonna go wallow in giddy, fanboyish delight arousal now. I hope you're happy. I am so beyond happy it hurts. kthnxbi.

[bangbang]

Thank you guys all so much! I feel like I just won an Oscar or something.

[ellwren]

Thank you guys all so much! I feel like I just won an Oscar or something.

It is well deserved.

[RiversD]

Ahh! I have been neglecting Sherlock fanfictions for far too long, clearly. This was perfection, just… guh.

All, all, all my buttons. You have pressed them and I am dead.

Mycrooooffft!

I want to list the ways that you have killed me but they are too many and I will forget some and be angry with myself because babies.

I love the little descriptions that keep us constantly aware of the toll this illness is taking on Mycroft’s body. It’s not just sneezing, but you make sure we see the exhaustion, and the headaches, and the chest twinges, in a hundred little ways that actually improve the flow of the piece rather than being tacked on.

Other things I am SO here for:

-

• - Mycroft running away to be ill and embarrassed on his own and Greg following him because it doesn’t matter I love you let me take care of you dangnabbit.
  
• - Greg making Mycroft laugh/smile.
  
• - Anthea.
  
• - Greg being all I know you’re not alright but I’m too unsure of our boundaries to press it.
  
• - Greg’s reaction to the giant rat.
  
• - Colds that get much worse because of stubbornness.
  
• - Trying not to be visibly ill in public.
  
• - Apologising for being sick.
  
• - The crying (I know, I’m an awful person. But )
  
• - Seriously, though, ALL OF PART 28.
  
• - Correct and wonderful use of the word “keening”.
  
• - Long sneezing fits.
  
• - Trying to contain epic sneezing fits.
  
• - Well-written aftermath of epic sneezing fits (gosh, you’re good)
  
• - Awkward babies fumbling with boundaries and trying to work out their own feelings, let alone the other person.
  
• - All of Greg’s emotional responses to Mycroft’s suffering, because they are my responses too.
  
• - Mycroft desperately trying to power through because even cold-impaired he’s more competent than anyone else.
  
• - Greg putting Mycroft to bed.
  
• - The beautiful pacing (and content) of Part 21.
  
• - All the shivering (I continue to be an awful person. But nngh. You did this so well)
  
• - That bit way back in part 6 when Mycroft’s too worn down to take the idea of Sherlock being hurt and he doesn’t mind Greg’s hand on his arm and he’s just too fragile and fuzzy and precious for words.
  
• - The detour on the way to the Spanish Embassy.
  
• - So many other things!
  

As a side note- well done for quietly and believably edging John out of the way for this one so Greg could be primary caretaker. Nicely played.

[frolicking periwinkle]

Yeah okay, I'm years late. But I am also two hours after my quitting time, still sitting at my desk (I clocked don't worry,) so I can finish reading the story. This is freaking amazing. And I was so sad to see it end, because it was so perfect.