2. gradual decline into disorder.
synonyms: deterioration, crumbling, decline, breaking down, collapse, chaos.
Mycroft Holmes went home alone.
It was nothing new, of course. He had always been alone. Inspector Lestrade had accompanied him to his house, probably at the insistence of Sherlock. But Mycroft waved him off, maintaining that he simply needed some sleep and he would be good as new.
The house was quiet. Normally the silence was soothing, but tonight it felt heavy.
Oh, what a mess today had been. If he was being honest with himself, the last few years had been a disaster. A catastrophe of his own creation. Moriarty and Eurus, the perfect storm. And he had brought them together. So many people had died as a result of his carelessness...
He almost died today. He should have. It would be better than dealing with the fallout of everything.
Their parents were understandably furious to discover Mycroft's deception. It was a bittersweet moment when they found out their only daughter was alive, but was so damaged. She had retreated into herself, withdrawing from the world. Honestly he didn't blame her.
The only person who could get through to Eurus was Sherlock. He played his violin for her, and she would play hers back to him. It was a communication, of sorts. Always a sad song. As he listened to them, he felt it tug at his heart. Even Eurus had someone now.
Despite claiming to be a sociopath, Sherlock had always managed to attract people. He was like a magnet for the damaged, and people liked him. God knows why.
Caring is not an advantage.
The worst was over. Eurus was back in Sherrinford, secure this time. Sherlock and John Watson were back at 221B Baker Street, solving crimes as usual. His brother was drug-free, and relatively happy. There was no real threat to national security.
All things considered, life was fairly good.
But an empty feeling remained. Again, this was nothing new. However it felt more pronounced than before. Ever since Sherlock almost pulled that trigger, Mycroft had been left wondering what his life was worth. Things had spun out of control so fast.
Who would miss him when he was gone? What would people remember? Had he made a difference in the world?
Questions he'd never considered before, questions he didn't know the answers to. Questions he didn't want to think about.
And the guilt. His parents brought up an excellent point. Had he done his best with Eurus? Definitely not. Everything that had happened was his fault.
Mycroft found himself slipping into old habits.
Obsessively working out.
For the record, it wasn't about the weight. He had been a pudgy child, but now he was thin and lean. All muscle and sharp angles. He knew he didn't need to slim down at all, but everything just felt so heavy lately. He needed something to control.
It was about the control.
He would stop before things got to far. And besides, it wasn't like he'd stopped eating altogether. He was just eating less. It was perfectly safe.
At least, that's what he told himself.
This isn't a one-shot, it's gonna have multiple chapters. I've already got some ideas, I just need time to write haha. Thanks for reading, drop a review if you liked it. Thanks :)