I was going to copy past from the last chapter of my wholock story, but then I got another idea and thought it really kinda cute! This is extremely ooc by the way for those of you who don't like that. Anyway, enjoy!

Mycroft's eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise as he stopped Sherlock from falling forward as he stood in the doorway. Sherlock was soaking wet and looked like was about ready to pass out as he forced himself to stand up straight. Mycroft normally would be harsh with Sherlock and demand that he would leave. But seeing as he had supposedly died and seemed like he might just die on the spot he decided just to say nothing, but instead pulled him inside and took his coat off. Sherlock didn't question or protest as a towel was thrown over his shoulders and he was led down the hall. Mycroft sat him down on the couch and walked down the hallway. Sherlock didn't pass out, but he did allow himself the comfort and leaning back in the chair and just stared at the ceiling.

"Here," Mycroft said setting a cup of tea on the coffee table and sitting down next to Sherlock. Mycroft knew he didn't need to tell his brother that he had borrow some that someone else had made earlier, but he supposed that Sherlock didn't really care. He looked over at the tea set beside for a long moment without moving or saying a word. Mycroft took a sip of his own tea and glanced over at Sherlock. He slowly grabbed the cup in both hands and took a slow sip. Mycroft shrugged it off and took another sip of his tea before setting it down. He looked over and both his eyebrows went up quickly. His reflexes lashed out without a moments thought and he grabbed the cup just as it slipped from Sherlock's hands. Sherlock looked like a startled child as Mycroft caught it and set it down on the table.

"I-I'm sorry," Sherlock said quietly. Mycroft looked over at Sherlock. He seemed extremely shaken and scared. Not the normal over-confident, I-know-everything-you-dont, mystery loving brother he was used to having conversations with. Mycroft let out a soft sigh.

"It's all right," he said. Sherlock looked over at Mycroft in silence before looking down at the cup he almost dropped. Mycroft leaned back and looked at the wall with a blank expression. He wondered why Sherlock came here, it wasn't as if Sherlock cared or trusted him. Maybe there was a piece of the puzzle he was missing. He thought this over for a long time. But his thoughts were interrupted as a certain consulting detective fell against his shoulder. "Sherlock?" Mycroft looked over to find Sherlock passed out as he leaned up against him. Mycroft sighed. It seemed he would be staying here for the night. But not on the couch. That was a big no-no.

Mycroft kept Sherlock up with his arm as he stood up. He flipped his brother over on his back before picking him up like a man would lift his bride. Mycroft shoved that thought away. It made this much more awkward than it needed to be. He looked at the sleeping Sherlock in his arms and he felt a weird sensation in his chest at a slight remembrance of when Sherlock was born. He remembered demanding to hold his baby brother when they brought him home and that he wouldn't stop jumping up and down until they said he could. He remembered sitting down on his bed when they placed the sleeping child in his arms. He remembered being exited, terrified, and over-joyed all at the same time.

Mycroft shoved the thoughts away and began taking Sherlock down the hallway. His room wasn't too far, and he was able to kick the door open. He set Sherlock on the chair there and placed him so that he was sort of laying down. Once satified that Sherlock wouldn't complain to him in the morning he shut the door and sat on his bed. He sighed slightly before removing his jacket and tie. He was going to change into proper sleeping wear but decided against it. Having Sherlock in here was awkward enough without doing that. He paused a moment to look at his brother laying there. He grabbed his father's old candle stick he had sitting on the nightstand just as it almost hit the floor, but he missed by a mere inch and it hit the ground.

Surprisingly the first thing he did was look up at Sherlock, a bit worried he had awoken him. Sherlock merely opened one eye in a funny way that Mycroft thought he had seen before. But he decided it wasn't important. After seeing what had happened Sherlock merely shut the eye again and shifted to get more comfortable. Mycroft found it in him to smile at this. It looked kind of funny when he did it. But the smile quietly disappeared. Mycroft stood up and grabbed one of his extra blankets and draped it over Sherlock, making sure it covered his feet and shoulders. Mycroft sat on his bed and glanced over at Sherlock before laying down. He was awake, and yet he hadn't protested at him covering him with a blanket. He shrugged the thought off and lay down, covering himself with the blanket. Sherlock's eyes opened halfway and he looked over at him.

"Mycroft?" Sherlock whispered so quietly that Mycroft almost didn't hear him. Mycroft opened his eyes and looked over at Sherlock. The two were silent for a moment, as if Sherlock was thinking about what he was about to say. Sherlock gave a small smile. "Thank you." Mycroft blinked in surprise and wonder at this statement and watched as Sherlock shifted again and closed his eyes. Mycroft smiled a bit as well and closed his eyes.

"You're welcome little brother," he murmured. But with his eyes closed he didn't notice Sherlock's eyes open as he stared at him in surprise. Sherlock then closed his eyes and fell asleep with a smile.

I may continue this, but I don't know. I may just add one last chapter to wrap things up to satisfy my brain and such. Anyway...

Thanks for reading and please review!