Mycroft Holmes
@thawediceman
Iceman. Work. Family. Sherlock RP. He/Him. My darling Mignonette, my daughter: @221b_EHolmes Writer is 26.
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Sherlock was first up, full of energy as always. He smiled at his niece and sat opposite her, warming himself by the fire. Mycroft wasn’t too far behind him.
Esme got comfortable to read for a bit until the rest decided to get up.
Carsen gently squeezed her shoulder and went to make some hot chocolate with the good cocoa he’d squirrelled away for special occasions.
B: “Just had to. Stayed in the shade a lot. Or inside. Father didn’t like it much. He wanted me to command the fields one day, to watch the overseer…” He couldn’t finish, shuddering at the memory of the cruelty.
“How did you cope in the American South?” Esme asked with a soft laugh.
C: “We wanted to give you a surprise. And Sherlock, of course. He’s still very much considered a young man.”
B: “I much prefer to be cold. Being hot is no fun.”
C: “Partly. Your father helped.”
“Were you also responsible for all this?” She looked around the decorated room.
S: “It’s not about being ‘out of here’, silly! I like being with my brother, sometimes. I just need more pain meds.”
Esme flinched slightly when he yelled (essentially right in her face), but she quickly gathered herself and pushed him back towards the bed without hurting him. "Shut up and eat something. The more you cooperate, the quicker you'll be out of here again."
B: “It feels wonderful. Especially as it’s sunny. Was India very hot?”
Esme's primary occupation over the following weeks was taking care of him and nursing him back to health, giving Sherlock the time to focus on doing the same with his brother. She also spent time writing on her article and occasionally hosting her editor for tea to discuss >
C: “Firestarting is a pesky business. You’ll get the knack for it soon.”
S: “Need more meds. MYCROFT - WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY MEDS?!” He yelled, not seeing the man in the doorway. “Quiet, brother. I’m here, and it isn’t time yet.”
Bramwell cuddled him close, tears in his eyes. He’d really missed his dog.
S: “I care not for food… Nor do I wish to stay here…” He tried to sit up with a groan of pain and fumbled to find the painkillers - not realising Mycroft had them.
Annie and Carsen found her first and wished her a Merry Christmas, Carsen getting the fire going properly.
Esme had wandered downstairs to get an early hot chocolate with cinnamon, then wanted to sit in the living room and start the fire in the fireplace. She gazed around the room, her smile getting wider the longer she took it all in.
The main living room had been transformed with wreaths and garlands and decorations and there was an impressive amount of gifts under the tree.
Esme lay awake for some time before she managed to fall asleep. Judging by the quiet she woke up to, it seemed like she was the first one up.
Mycroft accompanied her, and they found Sherlock still very loopy on pain meds and half off the bed. “Brother. Come now, back into bed.”
"Yes. I thought so." After she finished her dinner, she picked up some food and something to drink and approached Sherlock's room.
“Thank you. Just be aware that he is very cantankerous when he’s injured.”
“Well, I’ve not much to do during the day till next week. I can help look after him.”
B: “I’ve missed you!” He was beaming, breathless with giggles.
Esme watched them greet each other and catch up, leaning against the door frame of Bramwell’s room.
Mycroft stayed up a little longer to help turn the room into the Christmassy wonderland that Esme had grown up with.
“See you tomorrow morning. Goodnight, Papa.” She kissed his cheek.
“Time for bed. Christmas beckons.” Mycroft gave her a gentle smile.
Thistle launched himself onto the bed and licked Bramwell’s face eagerly, barking with joy.
Esme opened the door for Thistle and watched the dog dart off with a chuckle.
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