Printed // Sheriarty AU

2.2

• Greg's POV •

Sherlock's party was going as expected.

Decent.

I arrived here with my coworker Eddie - my Detective constable. He's a hard worker and I'm glad that I can call him a friend. I'm also glad that through him he let me get back in touch with a childhood acquaintance - Sherlock. Still no sign of his brother though.

Mycroft.

It's been 10 years since Molly died and my family moved me to America. I've not spoken to Myc since. I've tried over and over to get in contact with him, but it seems that he's so far up the Queens ass that I'm not important enough to talk to. It pisses me off.

I came back to England from America 4 years ago. I got into the career I wanted and I'm trying to get off of the smoking. Nicotine patches. Sherlock and I were supposed to do it together but he was way too far gone. I've been through a lot these past years.

I never admitted it to anybody 10 years ago, but I was going through a lot of drug abuse back then. Coke, LSD, it was all bad. I never had chance to tell Myc, and I feel like I trusted him enough back then to eventually tell him, but like I said, so much happened and it didn't seem Important at the time. In America I went to rehab and I got my life sorted. Although, the lack of drugs got me on cigarettes daily and a lot daily too. I'm managing.

I've been back 4 years. I've tried to contact Mycroft constant times, to catch up, or to renew the spark that we once had, but he's gone. He's changed. He's not the awkward, intelligent teen that I used to know. He's cold. He's brutal. He's viscous.

He's lonely.

Sherlock is expecting him to be here at his party, so I'm both looking forward to the encounter yet also dreading it to come. If he walks through those pub doors, I don't know how I'd react, how he would react. I don't know what I'd say or if any words would need to be said. It's been so many years, and I'm still hooked into the past, I just can't seem to let him go. Maybe seeing him today will help me do precisely that.

Let him go.

I look around the pub to see the activity that's going on at this gathering. This must have been John and Mary's idea to do this, no way did Sherlock come up with this. He'd prefer something more like not having a party at all! I notice Sherlock and Eddie speaking next to the bar, having a few laughs here and there. I look to my right to see Sherlock's friend Tom with a bunch of... Girls. I also notice John and Mary conversating with other people that were invited. My condolences.

As I sit alone in the corner of the pub, I decide that it's time to mingle to get my mind off of that one man I can't shake. Thinking about him makes me want to smoke and I've been good, so I need to preoccupy myself. I stand up and I make my way over to the bar where Sherlock and Eddie are conversating.

"Pint of laga" I ask the bartender and he hands me one straight away. I take it into my hand and I turn around to face the doors of the pub. I am met with the silhouette of a stuck up man behind the glass of the doors. My hands grip onto the pint in my hand.

He's here.

Both double doors open in unison to reveal a tall, thin man in a 3 piece suit with his hair combed back and holding an umbrella like a walking stick.

God he's different.

Everyone in the pub turns to looks at him, seeing as he did an overdramatic entrance. How like him. The room falls silent and Mycroft's eyes scan the room, yet they never reach mine.

I am invisible to him.

"Mycroft. You came." Sherlock walks up to him and Myc sends him a smile that seems alien to me.