Flight and Fall [ON HOLD]

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

In the five years since they had escaped nobody had came looking for them. Not a single one of the five had been kidnapped in anyway. None of the family they now lived with had been threatened. Mycroft found it strange to say the least. For the last five years they had lived a relatively normal life. Going to school, making friends and beginning to think about what jobs they wanted in the future (if they got the chance to get jobs). It was still hard, after all none of them had had any schooling up until then. Mycroft had picked everything up easily (it seemed that he had some kind of genius gene). Irene was also rather smart and had missed less years of school than Mycroft. Molly was just above average but she had only missed two years so it wasn't that much of a big deal. Greg, however, was struggling. Mycroft helped him as much as possible but he had decided that he was going to join the police force. He wanted to become a detective inspector if possible, help solve murders. As it was both Mycroft and Greg's last year of school they were both looking at universities, with the help of Mr Donovan. Mycroft had decided he was going to go into politics. He wanted to make a difference. They had kept the fact that there were kids with wings secret, not telling anyone. Those they had talked to thought it was best.

But Mycroft disagreed. He couldn't do anything about it, though. But he knew that things would be better if everyone knew of their existence. The facilities where they had been created would not be able to hide any longer. Someone would find them and report them. And then maybe he would be reunited with Sherlock. Leaving him years ago was a decision he would forever regret. The guilt was always a nagging thought at the back of his mind. Mycroft was brilliant at not feeling or showing emotions, but he just couldn't brush it off. No matter how hard he tried.

"Hey, Myc!" Someone was banging on his door. Greg, undoubtedly. "You coming out of your room any day soon? I know we've got exam leave and all but you really have to lighten up. The practice exams can't be too hard, can they?" Rich coming from him. Greg still struggled. He had, however, got a place in a university that would follow on to a career in the police.

"Studying is important, Greg."

"Psh, have some fun Myc. I'm going out for a fly, how about you come? Even you need to stretch your wings."

"Fine." Mycroft sighed and stood up, shutting his laptop. He hadn't really been paying attention to what he was supposed to be studying. Just thinking. He opened the door to find Greg leaning against the wall outside, a smug grin on his tanned face.

"Great. Let's go." He didn't even wait for Mycroft's response, heading down the corridor at super speed and jogging down the stairs. Mycroft followed at a slightly slower pace as they headed out the back door, into the pretty big garden. The Donovan's house was about a fifteen minute drive away from London (where they went to school) and had a rather large, uninhabited forest at the back. There would be no one around to see them. It was really an ideal situation. It let the four of them fly whenever they wanted to, get out and stretch their wings. Mycroft hadn't gone out to fly for the last few days. He had been dwelling too much on the past recently and it brought back memories. When they weren't free, yet were happy in some way. Teaching Sherlock to fly. The five of them flying as a group. But all of these memories, though happy, just reinforced his guilt. He had made the conscious decision to leave Sherlock, his brother, behind. He alone was to blame.

"Hurry up, Myc!" Greg had already pulled off his t-shirt and unfurled his dark brown wings with white tipped primary feathers. Mycroft just rolled his eyes and pulled off his jacket. He let his own russet brown wings slip under through slashes cut in the back of his shirt. He preferred to keep it on, unlike Greg.

"There's no rush," Mycroft pointed out evenly, only gaining a light laugh from Greg.

"No rush? We have to take every moment as it comes, Myc. We don't know when they'll come back and take us."

"I prefer to think that that will never happen, Gregory. And if it does we won't go quietly, will we?"

"Yeh, I guess. And please don't go back to calling me Gregory. You know how much it annoys me."

"That is precisely why I do it." A slight smirk fell across Mycroft's lips, though it didn't quite reach his blue eyes.

"I know. Makes it all the worse." Mycroft merely arched an eyebrow at that.

"Weren't you in a rush to get off."

"Right, yes. Stop distracting me! The last thing I want is for you to suddenly say that you have to go back in to study."

"Now that you mention it..."

"No. We're going." Without another word Greg took a running leap, beating his wings powerfully so he rose up into the air. Mycroft sighed (yet again) and swiftly followed. He sped after Greg, catching up quite easily. The flew at a rather lazy pace over the forest and a friendly silence hung over them. This was nice. Mycroft was close to the whole group, they were like family, but sometimes it was nice to just spend some time with Greg. They were close, being the same age. Mycroft knew he could depend on Greg and vice versa. What was it that normal people called their relationship? Ah, yes. Best friends. Or something along those lines.

"So how is studying?" Greg breached the silence, banking sharply left to turn forcing Mycroft to change direction.

"I'm not really studying... I know everything already."

"Show off. What were you doing then?"

Mycroft paused, keeping his face an emotionless mask. "Thinking."

"About what."

"Stuff."

"Want to talk about this 'stuff' whatever it is."

"Not really."

"You sure? You can always talk to me, you know. I would like to think that you do. We're close... Like brothers."

Mycroft visibly winced at that word. Brothers... He guessed that was right. But he had abandoned his own blood brother. It had been five years... Five years and he still felt no less guilty.

"Sherlock?" Greg looked at him in concern. "You know that was not your fault. You did not make the decision alone. We all did. We are all at fault. Remember you were only twelve. We were all young and took the first chance to freedom that we got. It is not your fault."

"I guess you're right." Mycroft shrugged slightly, flapping his wings to propel himself forward. He didn't believe, though. It was his fault. One day, if he ever saw Sherlock again, he would make amends. And he hoped, he truly hoped, that Sherlock would find it in his heart to forgive him.