Mycroft practically fell into his chair behind his desk in his office at work. With a deep sigh he pulled his phone out of his coat pocket and tapped to dial a number.
After a moment, she answered, "Good morning, handsome."
He hummed, her cheer was contagious, despite his weariness. "Good morning, beautiful."
"Did you know that I've earned a nickname from Lestrade?"
"Oh? What's that?"
"Miracle Worker. Though I'm as of yet unsure if it's because of my work here at Scotland Yard, or the fact that I've melted the Ice Man's heart."
A gentle chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Or perhaps both. Both could be considered equally miraculous. I'm sorry to disturb you at work. Do you have a moment?"
"Always for you."
Her answer caused him to smile again, then his face fell as he recalled the reason he had rung her. "I just finished up a meeting that unfortunately has created another meeting that must take place tonight. I'm afraid I'm going to have to cancel on our plans for the evening. I'm very sorry."
"It's alright."
"But it's not. I hate having to cancel on you for work."
"But work is important, and you try your very best to not have to cancel when we've made plans—but I'm not foolish enough to have thought it would never happen. It's alright, Mycroft. It was just dinner."
"It's never just dinner when it's with you."
"You're too sweet to me," she said with a sigh.
"Hmm, well, you're too good to me," he replied.
"I'm going to remind you of that in a few years when all the newness of being stuck with me wears off and you grow tired and weary of me."
"Never going to happen," he said, matter-of-factly.
"Why don't you text me when you finish up? If it's not too late, we can talk on the phone tonight. Otherwise, we'll chat tomorrow."
"Thank you for being so understanding."
"You're welcome. Love you."
"I love you, too. Bye."
*****
Mycroft had moved into preparations for his next meeting, Anthea having pulled several files for him—he was an hour in when his phone rang. He glanced at the number and frowned. Daniel Cartwright. Why was Sophia's brother calling him—he glanced at his watch—at 6am?
"Hello, Daniel?" Mycroft asked in greeting.
"Mycroft, hello," the man answered, and Mycroft could already tell something was wrong.
He stood from his desk and went towards the window. "Daniel, is something the matter?"
He heard the other man clear his throat before speaking. "Something's happened, and I can't bring myself to call my sister. I—I was hoping you—it's... it's my dad. Mycroft, my mom found my father dead this morning when she woke up. He's—he's gone."
Mycroft's eyes squeezed shut and one hand reached out to lean against the window and hold himself up as the air left his lungs. "Daniel, I—I'm so sorry."
"Yeah, um... thank you. Do you—could you tell Sophia? I know you're a busy man, and—"
Mycroft was already slipping some things into his briefcase. "I'll leave immediately to go to Scotland Yard and speak to her. I'll be sure she's on a plane as soon as possible to get there."
"I can't believe this is all happening now—two weeks before her wedding and—losing our Dad. It's going to kill her, Mycroft. They were so close."
"I know," Mycroft whispered as he finished closing the strap on his briefcase. "How is Mrs. Cartwright?"
'Upset, as you can imagine. But she's a strong woman. She'll get through this."
"I'll have her daughter there as soon as I can. Please keep me informed if there's anything we need to know."
"I will. Thank you, Mycroft."
"Of course, Daniel. You're welcome. Bye now."
"Bye."
*****
Mycroft swallowed and took a deep breath as he looked in through windows of Sophia's lab. After a moment he finally released the breath and entered. "Hello, love," he said quietly.
Sophia turned from the screen she'd been staring at and smiled. "Well, hello—this is a surprise." But soon, she realized that he wasn't reflecting her smile. In fact, he was distraught as she'd only seem him a few times. She stood and approached. "Mycroft, what's wrong? You should be preparing for your meeting this evening, right?"
"Sophia, I— I've had some bad news," he said quietly.
"Bad news? Did something happen to Sherlock? Euros?" She kept scanning his face to see some acknowledgement. "Your parents?"
"No, no... I—I'm afraid it's not my family. It's—" He reached out and rested his hands on her arms, just below her shoulders. "Sophia, love, I got a call from your brother. Something—something happened to your father, and—" He could already see her face morphing into a look of terror as he finished. "He died, Sophia. Your father's gone."
"Wha—," she gasped. "What? No! No, you're mistaken. Nothing could have happened. Not—no!"
He pulled her into his arms with her putting up little fight before she gasped out a sob and began weeping. "I'm so, so sorry, my love. I'm so sorry," he whispered down into her hair, his own eyes filling with tears.
After a few moments the sobs calmed down long enough for her to pull back, looking around frantically. "I—I have to—I need to—"
"I've already called your supervisor. I'm taking you to your apartment right now to pack a bag. My pilot is filing a flight plan right now and we'll be on our way home as quick as we can."
"B-but—I—you—" She was still frantically looking around, as if she couldn't find what she was trying to focus on. Suddenly her eyes focused in on his. "You—your meeting. You can't miss your meeting."
"To hell with my meeting, Sophia—you need to get to your mother and family, and I am not letting you fly across the Atlantic by yourself."
"Then—then you'll have your meeting, and we'll leave as soon as it's over. We'll fly overnight and be there first thing in the morning," she said as she stared now at his tie.
He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Sophia, surely—"
"I want to be there. I want you there with me. But I—I'm not letting you miss your meeting. I just can't Mycroft. Please, don't fight me."
"Then after we get your bags packed, I'm taking you to Baker Street to wait with Sherlock until my meeting is over. I'm not leaving you alone at home."
She inhaled a deep shaky breath and nodded, but then her lip started to quiver, and she crashed into him, burying her head in his chest and crying all over again.
****
It was almost a half hour before they were walking out of Metropolitan Police headquarters and getting into the back of Mycroft's car. Mycroft stood close by while Sophia numbly packed her bag. She had continued to cry all the way home in the car, and finally settled down right as they'd pulled up. But he saw that every so often she'd be caught up in the deep emotion of her grief and her face would scrunch up in pain as she held back her tears to get through the task at hand. After she'd packed a few things, she seemed to stare into her closet blankly. He approached and stood behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders and whispering. "You'll need to pack something for the funeral service, dear. Perhaps this one," he said, pulling out a simple knee length dress. She nodded and took the dress from him, gently folding it and laying it in her suitcase. He bent to pick up her black flats and handed them to her before she could approach.
"Thank you," she whispered, staring at his tie.
He cupped her cheek and raised her face to his, easily seeing the swirling emotions in her eyes. "I will be here for you in whatever way you need me to be, Sophia. No matter how great or how small the need might be, please do not hesitate to ask. I consider it my greatest honor, and my greatest duty, to walk with you through this terrible grief I know you are feeling. Is there anything else I can do for you right now?"
She drew another shaky breath and shrugged. "I don't know."
He gazed at her softly a moment before deciding. "How about you go pack up your toiletry bag, wash up and splash some cool water on your face. Take a moment to breath. I'll just go down and make you a travel mug of hot tea to sip on for the drive over to Baker Street. There's no telling what Sherlock has at his place. Does that sound good?"
She nodded and scooted herself into his arms for a moment, resting her head on his chest. He placed a gentle kiss on her head and allowed her to stay there until she felt comfortable letting go. When she did, he made quick work of the descent to the main floor to prepare the tea he'd promised. While he did, he called Sherlock and was grateful his brother was home to take the call. He shared the news with him and informed him of their plans. He was coming out of the kitchen, travel mug in hand, when Sophia came down the stairs with her bag.
"Here, darling, let me get that for you," he said, meeting her near the bottom and exchanging the mug for the suitcase.
"Are you ready?"
"I think so. I may have forgotten something," she said quietly.
"If so, then we'll just purchase it while there. It's not a problem."
*****
When they entered 221 Baker Street, Sherlock was standing in his doorway at the top of the stairs, staring down at the entrance, as if he'd been waiting there since receiving the call from Mycroft.
Mycroft gestured for Sophia to mount the stairs ahead of her, and as she did, Sherlock watched carefully. When she reached the top, Sherlock opened his arms, flicking his fingers to motion her towards him. She exhaled and stepped into his arms, which he wrapped around her securely, giving his brother a sad half smile. "I promise I'll look after her while you're gone."
Sophia stepped back out of Sherlock's embrace and turned to Mycroft, who looked down at her with loving eyes. "I'll be back as soon as I can, love. I'll have you to your family just as quickly as I can."
She nodded and looked up at him, giving up the bravest smile she could muster. "Thank you. I'll be fine here with Sherlock. See you in a little while."
He brushed his thumb over her cheek and spoke gently, "I love you."
She leaned into his touch. "I love you, too."
He then looked back to Sherlock. "I'll text you when I'm on my way back."
Sherlock nodded and rested a hand on Sophia's shoulder, guiding her into the flat.
*****
A little while later, Sherlock sat on the couch, leaned back with his head resting on the back cushion, the fingers of his two hands were interlaced together resting in his lap. Sophia sat next to him, leaned slightly over with her head resting on his shoulder. Sherlock had become as much a brother to her as her own, and she appreciated his quiet company at this moment as she found herself unable to find suitable words.
"Mycroft said you insisted he go to this meeting," Sherlock spoke up after an extended silence. She nodded in answer. "You're the first person I've ever seen him willing to walk away from it for, you know. He would have skipped that meeting; I think he'd walk away from it all if necessary."
"I don't want him to do that," she whispered softly.
"I know. Just one more thing on the list of reasons why you are an angel."
She let out a hiccup of a chuckle. "Not nearly."
"Sophia, you're marrying Mycroft. You are a creature of divinity to put up with him. And me, for that matter."
She reached over and squeezed his arm. "Thanks for keeping me company."
He nodded his own response. "You know, I don't have the best relationship with my parents, but—the thought of losing one of them does cause me to pause. I can't imagine what this is like for you. I know you were very close to your father. I'm so very sorry for your loss, Sophia."
"I feel a deep gaping hole in my heart right now."
Just then, the door swung open and John Watson flew in, eyes scanning quickly across the flat before finding them sitting on the couch. He ran over and knelt down in front of her. "God, Sophia—I am so sorry to hear about your father."
She gave him a sweet smile and leaned forward, accepting the hug she knew was forthcoming. "Thank you, John. How did you—"
"Sherlock called me as soon as Mycroft told him." He moved to sit on her other side.
She smiled and reached out, taking each of their hands in her own and squeezing. "You two really are fantastic friends—incredibly good stand-in brothers."
John leaned over quickly and placed a kiss on her hair. "Anytime. And I mean that."
"Since opening myself up to the concept of caring, I've been quite fascinated by my increased desire to clobber someone at the notion that they would hurt those I care about. I almost got violent with a toddler the other day for pushing Rosie on the playground."
John chuckled. "It's true. I had to hold him back."
Both men smiled at the sound of a chuckle and a small smile coming from Sophia.
"Is there anything we can do for you right now, Soph?" John asked.
She took a deep breath. "I need to call my mother. Could you guys give me a little space for a few minutes?"
"Of course," the blonde said before both men got up and walked towards the kitchen.
A few moments later, her mother answered the phone. "Hey mom," Sophia said softly. "Yes, I'm coming. Mycroft and me. We're leaving as soon as he's out of a very important meeting I wouldn't let him skip. We're going to fly overnight and be there in the morning, okay?" She paused and waited, rubbing under her eyes with her thumbs. "I know mom... yeah... I know. Okay, I'll see you soon. I—I love you mom. Tell Daniel I'll text him when we're taking off from Heathrow, okay? Okay, bye."
She sighed as she hung up the phone and slowly moved to lay on the couch, curled up on her side and resting her head against a pillow.
Four hours after he left her, Mycroft returned to 221B Baker Street. His lips were drawn tight in a scowl as he exited his car and approached, using his own key that he'd finally convinced Mrs. Hudson to give him after the explosion just over two years ago. The door to Sherlock's flat opened before he reached the top of the stairs and he found John was the one who'd done so. He held his finger up over his mouth indicating he should be quiet. Mycroft lessened the impact of his footfalls and slipped in to see his fiancée curled up under a blanket on the couch, fast asleep.
"How long has she been like that?" Mycroft asked once he'd entered the kitchen with John and his brother.
"She called her mother three hours ago and as soon as she was off the phone, laid down and fell asleep. I placed the blanket on her for comfort."
"Thank you to you both for being here with her."
"How did your meeting go?" John asked.
Mycroft scowled. "Damned politicians and their hot air. I may or may not have threatened every last one of them before the meeting was over. It was if every push I made for moving more quickly they decided to slow down even more. Tedious and frustrating. I wish she hadn't insisted I go. We could already be almost halfway to America by now."
"On that note, you should wake her then. Sherlock said she had a bag packed—have you packed?"
"Anthea took care of it while I was in my meeting. Both are bags are in the car waiting. I'll just go wake her."
"Brother," Sherlock called out before Mycroft made it out of the room.
He turned back halfway towards Sherlock. "Yes?"
"Keep us up to date on arrangements, and how she's doing."
Mycroft gave his brother the slightest of smiles and nodded. "Of course."
****
Mycroft knelt before the sofa in Sherlock's flat and ran a hand gently over Sophia's forehead. "Sophia, love, it's time to go now." He said quietly and she started to stir.
"Mycroft?" she whispered hoarsely as she blinked away the sleep.
"Yes, darling, it's me. I'm back from that dreaded meeting and the jet is waiting for us at the airport. Time to get you home to your family, love."
Her breath seemed to catch in her throat as everything came back to her. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep shaky breath. "Okay."
*****
They were a few hours into the flight when Mycroft looked across into the lounge seat that had been turned and leaned back into a makeshift bed. Sophia lay on her back staring up at the ceiling. "Are you sure you don't want to come sit next to me? I'm happy to have you leaned against me, you can snuggle to your hearts content?"
She sighed and rolled from her back to her side to look at him. "I'm fine. It'll be a few hours before I can get back to sleep. I don't want to bother you; I know you're trying to get work done."
"Only because I want to be available as much as I can for you and your family tomorrow and in the days that follow."
She smiled at him sweetly. "You really are the best, you know?"
He swallowed, closed the lid of his laptop gently, and looked at her. "I will live every day of the rest of my life dedicated to being the man your father hoped I would be for you. I intend to make sure your mother, your brother, your entire family, is well cared for till my dying breath, Sophia. It's the least I can do to honor the man who raised the remarkable woman I get to call my wife one day soon."
She sat up, looking at him with wide, soft eyes. "Mycroft—that's—that's so sweet of you to say."
"I'm not just saying it, Sophia. I mean it."
She nodded and laid back down, a small sigh escaping her lips. "I know you do."
"What are you thinking about, love?"
"Everything."
"But at this moment, there's something very specific that's bothering you. I mean—a very specific part of the grief—of the loss—that has taken your thoughts captive. Please share it with me."
She sighed again. "The wedding."
He nodded slowly in understanding but remained quiet. He'd wondered if the full impact of the loss and how it would impact their upcoming nuptials had occurred to her yet.
"Every dream I've ever had of my wedding day—it included my father walking me down the aisle. I never thought—I never imagined—," her voice had gotten shakier, and he was slid the desk away from his chair and was at her side quickly.
He sat on the edge of her seat and lifted her into his embrace, holding her tight to his chest, adjusting her only to pull her into his lap and rock her gently. "Oh, my sweet, wonderful Sophia—I'm so so sorry."
"I—I suppose my brother will walk me down the aisle now. I guess everyone will still be up for coming. But it's only two weeks away, Mycroft— how will we—"
"We'll discuss it with your mother and brother, my love. If we need to postpone it, we will."
"But Mycroft, we—you—the location, the food, the cake, the music—so much money deposited that you'll lose."
"My love, how many times have I told you—money is not as important to me as you are. Your happiness is more important to me. We will do what we have to do to make it all work out."