After John's wedding to Mary, Mycroft just knew Sherlock would need him, so he went to the flat. It was 2 am before Sherlock stumbled in the flat, just looking at him Mycroft knew he was high, he flicked on the light and softly said "Oh Sherlock…" Instead of snapping at Mycroft and telling him to 'Fuck off' Sherlock collapsed at Mycroft's feet and just sobbed. Mycroft wrapped his arms around his little brother and held him while he broke down.

Eventually, Sherlock cried himself to sleep and so Mycroft carried him to bed, he stripped Sherlock down to his boxers and then changed him into his usual pajamas. Mycroft knew that Sherlock would be starving when he woke up so he made Sherlock food he could warm up even though Mycroft also knew that Sherlock tended to not eat so Mycroft sent a quick text to Andrea to let her know where he was and he stayed with his little brother.

When Sherlock woke up 8 hours later, his body was incredibly sore and he slowly got up to take a shower, his brain was moving too slowly for him to realize he was in different clothes than he had been when he got home, Sherlock just stripped slowly out of his pajamas and stepped into the scalding hot water. The water burned his skin but the sensation was easier to focus on than the pain of watching the love of his life get married to someone else. The effects of the drugs had mostly worn off aside from the thick fog in his brain, and he could just relax under the hot water. As the water started to turn cold making Sherlock realize how long he had been standing there, he quickly washed himself off and then stepped out.

Sherlock grabbed the towel and went into his room, this time he noticed there was a cup of hot tea on his bedside table and for 2 seconds thought it was John before he remembered falling at Mycroft's feet earlier that morning and on a normal day he would have been appalled at his actions, throwing himself at Mycroft like that but right now he needed someone. So, Sherlock got dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, very mundane compared to his usual attire but he had no intentions of leaving his flat today, when he went into the living room Mycroft was asleep on the couch.

Sherlock rolled his eyes a little before going to the kitchen knowing his brother would have made him food, and sure enough, as he suspected there was a plate of food in the microwave, however, the idea of food made his stomach turn in on itself and he shook his head. Sherlock went back into the living room and grabbed a blanket to cover Mycroft up with before going back to his room and curling up, making himself as small as possible.

It didn't take long for Sherlock's brain to fight through the fog and again he was assaulted with images of John and Mary's wedding. Since their first case together Sherlock had fallen in love with John, he had no idea how to express it and then Moriarty caused so many problems and he had to fake his death to keep John safe, sometime in those two years he had met Mary. Sherlock did his best to show John he was happy for him, even though it was killing him on the inside.

An hour later Mycroft groaned as he woke up, sleeping on the awful couch was not easy on his already sore back, he realized there was a blanket over him and knew Sherlock must have done it. This made Mycroft get up and start to the kitchen to see if Sherlock had eaten but just as he passed Sherlock's door Sherlock called out, "Didn't eat it My,"

The nickname is mostly what caught Mycroft's ear, Sherlock had not called him that for a long time, so Mycroft slowly turned round and went into Sherlock's bedroom, "Why not Sherlock?"

Sherlock looked up at Mycroft, his eyes were red and puffy, it was obvious he had been crying again and Sherlock softly shook his head, "Made me feel sick."

Mycroft sighed a little before sitting on the edge of Sherlock's bed, Sherlock moved closer to Mycroft and closed his eyes tightly fighting the sob that wanted to break out of his throat. Mycroft just softly reached down and stroked his hand through Sherlock's still slightly damp curls, that affection broke Sherlock's ability to fight and he started sobbing again. Mycroft pulled Sherlock closer to his chest and hugged his little brother tightly, Mycroft didn't say anything and just held him. Both men knew this brotherly affection was rare but they also knew how much Sherlock needed it after Sherlock had fallen asleep again this time Mycroft left.

Neither man would talk again about that day, but Mycroft started watching Sherlock closer, asking Detective Inspector Lestrade to give Sherlock cases because otherwise, Sherlock would use the drugs more. Sherlock knew about it but neither said anything about it because then they would have to acknowledge they actually care about each other.

((Okay guys! So I know all my stories have been Supernatural related but I saw this idea on Tumblr and had to write it! The first paragraph is basically the Tumblr post credit to whoever made that post for sure. Hope you enjoy this little fic. ))

(((P.S Also Apologies for not using any British terms, I am not very skilled in writing that and I did not want to get anything wrong.)))