DISCLAIMER: I do not own

A/N: This is an angsty Mystrade omegle RP.

Warnings : Swearing, and mentions of attempted suicide, and lots and lots of feels.

Me: Greg Lestrade

Omegle stranger: Mycroft Holmes


Remember that you were loved by me. And that you made my life a happy one, and there's no tragedy in that. Goodbye, My. - GL.

Sorry, what? – MH

I said goodbye. I can't explain. Just let me do this. I'm sorry. - GL.

Gregory Lestrade, what on earth are you talking about? And if you dare to tell me you are committing suicide I shall kill you myself. – MH

There's something I'd like to see. - GL.

I really am sorry, My. - GL.

There is nothing on earth that you would want to see that would entail you having to say good bye in such a dramatic fashion. – MH

I can't do this anymore. Ever since Sherlock ... I just can't. It's my fault, My. My fault that your little brother is dead. - GL.

How dare you. - MH

How dare I what? - GL.

How dare you take responsibility for his stupidity? And how dare you even think of giving me that sort of grief again you selfish shit. – MH

It was my fault. Stop defending me. If I hadn't doubted him Sherlock would still be here! I don't know how you can even stand looking at me. - GL.

Don't be so ridiculous. Your part in the whole affair was a minor distraction at best. You are not as important as you think you are. – MH

I know I'm not important. I'm nobody. I get that. Which is why this decision came so easily to me. - GL.

You stupid arse. – MH

Mycroft Holmes I love you. I'll miss you the most I think. - GL.

[no reply]

You were the best thing to ever happen in my life. Do you know that? I've never felt more belonging than in your arms. - GL.

[no reply]

I was going to do so much. I was going to ask you to marry me. Not that you'd ever say yes. You're not the type to settle. I barely know how I even got past one date with you. - GL.

If you're going to do it then bloody do it and stop clogging up my phone with your maudlin twaddle. – MH

If that's what you want then fine I will. - GL

I'm glad what I have to say is such twaddle to you, My. - GL.

What I want has clearly not entered your head you stupid man. - MH

And all of it is clearly a load of shit because if I meant so much to you then you wouldn't cause me such grief. – MH

I'm scared, My. I don't know how to stop. I don't want to die. But god help me I don't know what to do. - GL.

You get off the bloody roof you stupid prick. – MH

Who said I was going to jump from a bloody roof? Are you watching me? - GL.

Of course I'm watching. What the hell did you think I was going to do? – MH

Why watch, My? - GL.

I can't help myself. – MH

At least Sherlock had the decency to choose a roof without CCTV coverage. – MH

Sorry I wasn't plotting out a perfect, flawless plan for my death to bloody take place. - GL.

No. You're not really thinking about anyone other than yourself are you? – MH

No. Maybe I'm not. Perhaps the ex was right. I am a selfish bastard. - GL.

You are a selfish bastard. And if you don't get off that roof right now I will never speak to you again. - MH

Yes, because if I don't get off right now then you won't be able to speak to me again. - GL.

[no reply]

If I come down will you come and get me? - GL.

Yes. – MH

Please come, Mycroft. - GL.

Get off the roof. – MH

Hang on. Give me a second. - GL.

Ok. I'm off. - GL.

I'm downstairs. – MH

Meet me halfway. - GL.

Mycroft walked up the stairwell until he got to the fourth floor of Scotland Yard and waited For Gregory to come down.

Greg Lestrade walked down the stairs slowly. He felt numb inside. Tears were still running down his face and his legs shook like jelly beneath him. When he saw Mycroft he froze, staring at him glared at him and tapped his foot impatiently on the floor."Mycroft - I - " Greg choked out. "I'm an idiot and a coward. I'm sorry."Mycroft raised an eyebrow and waited for Gregory to finish walking down the stairs before punching him hard in the face.

Greg fell back onto the floor with a startled cry. "I'm sorry." He sobbed, curling into a small ball whilst clutching to his bleeding nose.

"Don't you dare Gregory. I cannot believe you would do such a thing." Mycroft said coldly. He held out a handkerchief.

Greg took the handkerchief with trembling hands. "I couldn't go through with anyway. Bloody coward is what I am."

"Well not everyone can go happily into death the way Sherlock could." Mycroft sat down on the step.

Greg looked up at Mycroft with tearful eyes. "I miss him." He whispered. "Never thought I'd say that about him. But I do."

"And you'd rather pop off and join him. How lovely." Mycroft sniffed and adjusted his cuffs.

"It's not like that." Greg sighed. "I just - " He shook his head. "Every time I look at you I see him and the betrayed look he last had in his eyes. And every time I hear you crying at night it tears me up inside."

Mycroft pulled out a cigarette from the packet in his pocket and lit it. "So it's my fault is it? Making you feel bad."

"No." Greg shook his head. "Just no. It's all in my head and I'm just being ridiculous."

"Indeed." Mycroft took a deep drag on the cigarette.

"Can I er -" Greg gestured to the cigarette. Mycroft passed the packet over with the lighter and watched while Gregory lit one. Greg inhaled deeply before letting a puff of smoke pass his lips. "Thanks." He mumbled dumbly.

"So." Mycroft tapped the ash into the stairway, "You realise credible threats of suicide are good grounds for sectioning."

"So are you - going to section me that is?" Greg swallowed audibly.

"Any reason I shouldn't?" Mycroft asked.

"No reason at all." Greg looked away from his lover's sharp nodded simply, his lips pursing. "I'll be packing my stuff tonight then." Greg said in a small voice. "At least until you've decided what you're going to do with me."

"There is already a medical team downstairs. You can't seriously expect to attempt to jump off the roof of New Scotland Yard and not attract attention. Gregory." Mycroft softened slightly. "There's a mental health facility in Sussex which is very nice. I don't suppose you'll be a residential patient for long."

"Why's that, My? Because I'll make a miraculous recovery and everything will be ok?" Greg shook his head. "Things don't work like that."

Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Stop being so dramatic. You'll be stabilised, put on some anti-depressants I expect and offered some psychiatric help as an outpatient." He sucked in a lungful of smoke. "A week or two's rest and intensive help followed by regular therapy and light duties at work. Such is mental health on the NHS."

Greg smiled weakly at Mycroft and nodded. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you through so much agro. "He sighed.

Mycroft narrowed his eyes. "It's nothing I haven't been through before" he said coolly.

"Exactly." Greg sighed again, louder this time. "I shouldn't have put you through it again." Mycroft hummed around the cigarette in agreement."I hope we can at least remain friends despite all this." Greg took a puff of his own cigarette and closed his eyes.

"Despite you being a selfish arrogant shit that would rather jump off a fucking building than talk to me while I'm grieving for my equally selfish and arrogant brother?" Mycroft queried, "I don't know. I'll have to think about it."

"You're not the easiest man to talk to." Greg pointed out. "And you

Haven't been around much lately to talk to anyway."

"No, indeed, this is all my fault I'm sure. I should simply make myself emotionally available so that everyone can have their go at breaking my heart. I'm sure people will be queuing up." He blew the smoke out of the side of his mouth.

"Oh for Pete sake!" Greg exclaimed, taking a deep breath. "I'm not trying to blame you. I just - I don't understand myself why I've gotten to this stage."

"Well I have no idea Gregory. I expect it's something you'll have to discuss with your psychiatrist." Mycroft sighed and stubbed the cigarette butt out on the step.

"I expect so, yeh." Greg ran a hand down his face wearily.

Mycroft watched him carefully. "Why did you decide not to ask me to marry you?" He asked.

"Why did I -" Greg shrugged. "You'd have never have said yes."

Mycroft's lips thinned. "I do wish people wouldn't try and do my thinking for me" he muttered, pushing himself off the floor and brushing down his suit.

"Oh come on, My. You marry me?" Greg snorted. "You could do far better than me."

Mycroft adjusted his cuffs and regarded the man in front of him. "What I might or might not have done is moot now isn't it, since threatening to jump off a building is pretty much an enormous 'fuck you' in terms of love and affection."

Greg swallowed. "I'll never stop loving you either way. I wasn't doing this to hurt you. I just wanted to end my pain."

"Mmmm. I expect so. That always seems to be the story. Quite frankly I'm a bit sick of hearing it." He held out his hand to help Gregory off the floor.

Greg shook his head. "It's fine. I can get up myself." He pushed himself up to his feet, locking eyes with Mycroft.

Mycroft regarded him coolly. "After you" he indicated the stairs down, rather than up.

Greg sighed and nodded, taking the stairs slowly, his legs back to shaking underneath him once followed him down to the rear entrance to the yard where his car and the medical team were waiting.

Greg froze his heart stuttering in his chest. He glanced at Mycroft, a tear falling down his face.

Mycroft waited for him, eyeing him up coldly. "I'm scared, My." Greg whispered, swallowing around the lump rising in his throat.

Mycroft softened and put his hand on Gregory's shoulder. "It'll be fine, dear" he muttered, "They'll look after you."

"That's not what I'm scared of." Greg looked away from Mycroft's face, unable to hold eye contact for long. "I'm scared I've lost you because of my foolish actions."

Mycroft inclined his head. "Possibly," he said eventually. "We'll have to wait and see."

"Ok." Greg said his voice tight and broken. "Can I request one last kiss?"

"It's not an execution you know. People do come back from psychiatric care." Mycroft commented, standing still and allowing Gregory to kiss him despite his words.

Greg pulled Mycroft against him, his lips working softly against the government official's lips. Mycroft kissed him back, carefully before pulling gently away. "I'll try to get better, My. For you." Greg smiled weakly.

"It would be far better if you would get better for yourself Gregory." Mycroft replied dryly, following him out to the waiting ambulance.

"I'm nothing without you, My." Greg ushered under his voice.

Mycroft sighed. "I expect that's another thing you need to discuss with your psychiatrist" he muttered.

"I love you." Greg hung his head low as he was helped into the ambulance by the medical staff awaiting his arrival.

"Mmmmm, not as much as I love you apparantly." Mycroft muttered bitterly, turning back to his car.

"So, you still love me then?" Greg retorted.

Mycroft paused and bit back the reply he wanted to make. It wouldn't be helpful. "It doesn't matter Gregory." he said eventually. "Just get yourself well."

Greg felt his world shatter beneath him as he watched his lover walk away from him.

Mycroft was his world.

Why he'd ever wanted to leave his world behind was a mystery to him now.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

Mycroft was already out of hearing range.


Gah. Sorry for the feels guys. Especially those who know what third star is. Please leave a review.