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holmesticeTitle: Did Anybody Hear The Things We Didn't Mean
Recipient:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
xfdryad
Author:monkiainen
Characters/Pairings: Mycroft/Greg, Mummy Holmes, Sherlock/John (only in background)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Incest, sexual abuse, child abuse, dub-con, eating disorder
Summary: Despite what everyone else thinks, Mycroft loves his little brother.
Notes: My recipient wanted 'Mycroft n Sherlock love each other, really' type of fic, and... well, my muse decided to interpret their wishes in a very twisted way. Please note that all the warnings are there for a reason - this is not a happy story by any means.
I would also like to thank Hoodoo over at FF.net for betaing my story.
Jocasta [dʒoʊˈkæstə]complex
1. The domineering and intense, but non-incestuous love that a mother has for an intelligent son, and an often absent or weak father figure.
2. The incestuous sexual desire of a mother towards her son.
* * *
Mycroft Holmes does not cry.
For if he cries, his mother will come to his bedroom late at night and comfort him.
* * *
Mycroft Holmes is an enigma. A man who many people know, and yet know nothing about him. There is only one person who knows the man behind the carefully constructed layers upon layers of self-preservation – Mycroft himself. A certain grey-haired Detective Inspector of New Scotland Yard comes close, but even he doesn’t know everything. Greg knows there are things he can’t know about Mycroft, for their safety. It should bother him more than it does, but for some reason it doesn’t. He is just happy to have at least a part of Mycroft for himself. They have come a long way since they started casually sleeping with each other. What used to be a mutual stress relief is now a full-fledged relationship, with all its ups and downs.
Sometimes Mycroft is caught in a middle of nightmare, tossing and turning restlessly in their bed. Afterwards Mycroft is skittish, flinching when Greg tries to comfort him, bordering on catatonic. Greg wished Mycroft could tell him what is wrong.
* * *
Once upon a time there was a small boy called Mycroft. He was smarter than most children of his age, a quality that made his mother praise him. It was only natural when your mother is a genius herself.
His mother loved him very, very much. So much that she rather slept in her son’s room instead of the bedroom she shared with her husband. It made Mycroft feel important and cherished – her mother loved him the most.
At first it was just her mother sleeping in the same bed with him, keeping monsters away. Sometimes her mother would pet his hair, telling him what a good boy he was and kissing him goodnight. Nothing more, nothing less.
Her hands were the wandering kind. Stroking his tummy after too much candy, caressing his thighs, fondling his most private parts. At first Mycroft was confused, but then Mummy told him it was alright because he was such a bright and good little boy. Only good little boys were taken care of like that by their Mummies. Mummy would always love him the most.
* * *
Every time they visit the notorious Mummy (and the husband), Mycroft is even more polite than usual. Greg just can’t understand what is going with the Holmes brothers and their mother, as she is the most pleasant person he has met for a while. It’s a wonder such a kind woman like her has produced such obnoxious sons. Maybe they had a falling out when Mycroft came out of the closet. They wouldn’t be the first family to have a crisis over someone’s sexual orientation.
Later on, when Mycroft is off who knows where with Sherlock, Greg emboldens himself and asks Mummy what her thoughts were when she found out her oldest son is gay. She smiles gently, telling Greg that she was and is perfectly fine with the fact that she is the only woman her son has and will ever love.
* * *
Mycroft couldn’t understand why the great love his Mummy had for him had to be kept a secret. But then Mummy told him they didn’t want to hurt Daddy’s feelings and Mycroft understood it because he was so bright.
Somewhere deep inside Mycroft knows that what Mummy is doing to him at nights is not right. But he is too embarrassed to let anyone know about the truth, for he should have known from the start. He’s a genius, after all.
* * *
Mycroft and Sherlock are having a row, again. Although calling it a row is overstating – all they ever do is that Mycroft tries to tell Sherlock what to do and Sherlock refuses to listen. Greg must admit though that having John around has changed things for the better. Not much, but so that brothers actually agree on some things once and a while.
Greg wonders if Mycroft and Sherlock even know what it’s like to have a loving and supporting brother, instead of one that belittles you every step of the way.
* * *
When Mycroft is ten years old, Mummy gets pregnant after many years of miscarriages and heartbreak. When his younger brother is born, Mycroft thinks he’s the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.
They name him William Sherlock Scott Holmes. Mycroft wonders if his little brother is going to be as bright as him. For if he is, then Mycroft must protect him. It’s his duty as an older brother. ’Please let him be smarter than me, please don’t let him believe the lies Mummy is telling me at nights’ Mycroft prays silently. It’s not the future he wants his baby brother to have.
* * *
Sherlock claims that Mycroft is only interested in his career and influence among the people. To Mycroft, people are only pawns in a never-ending game of fame and fortune, of knowledge and power. Sherlock despises his older brother and his ways.
Sherlock might be blind when it comes to his brother, but Greg can see how much Sherlock’s words are actually hurting Mycroft. He wonders, yet again, why Mycroft can’t show Sherlock how much he really cares. Later on, when Sherlock has stormed off, Greg tries to discuss the matter with Mycroft to no avail. It’s a mystery to be solved, and Greg is determined to make things work between the brothers because he’s tired of seeing the hurt in Mycroft’s eyes every time Sherlock insults him.
* * *
Years go by, and Mummy’s visits to Mycroft’s bedroom at nights continue. Mycroft makes sure that he mocks his little brother and his intelligence every time has the chance – if her mother thinks that Mycroft is the more intelligent one, she will leave Sherlock alone. Mycroft goes even that far to suggest that Sherlock would probably be better off at boarding school, away from Mummy’s disapproving eyes. Sherlock away would also mean more time together for Mummy and Mycroft, without the fear of being interrupted by a child demanding his mother’s attention.
Mycroft congratulates himself when he has successfully alienated Mummy from Sherlock. The things he would do out of love for his little brother have no limits. At least Sherlock will be safe, and hopefully will find love someday. Mycroft suffers silently inside his head, when Mummy lowers herself to his erect cock, riding herself into an orgasm. He feels nothing.
* * *
Greg loves making love with Mycroft. The sounds he makes when he gives himself fully to the act, dropping all the pretenses and masks, the passion many would be surprised to see he possesses. It’s all there, and Greg never grows tired of it.
Counting Mycroft’s freckles when they’re lying side by side is his favourite thing to do.
* * *
The only times Mycroft feels anything is when he’s eating. Food becomes his savior, his only pleasure, the one thing that will lift his spirits when he’s feeling down. So Mycroft eats and eats and eats, until he realizes how much he has eaten in one go. It’s so disgusting. The only way to feel better is to get rid of the food he just ate. Throwing up fixes everything.
Mycroft hates his body and how it betrays him.
* * *
Later on Greg wishes he could take it all back. How he was stupid and pushed on, when Mycroft clearly told him to let things be. He has caused his lover so much pain and anguish, over things neither of them have any control of.
One night, after a particularly vivid nightmare, it all comes out. Mycroft is agitated, torn between keeping his worst memories to himself and telling everything to Greg because of the trust between them. Greg embraces him, telling him it was only a nightmare, and that’s when Mycroft snaps.
“It was not just a nightmare. It was my childhood.”
Words like “incest”, “sexual abuse”, ”eating disorder” are talked over and over again. How Mycroft sacrificed himself in order to protect Sherlock. How Mycroft turned their mother against her own, long-awaited younger son so that he wouldn’t have to go through the same horrors he had to.
How he can never tell Sherlock how much he means to him, because it would mean telling the truth. And truth is something Sherlock can never know.
The next time Sherlock insults Mycroft, Greg wishes Sherlock would know how much his older brother truly loves him.
Recipient:
xfdryadAuthor:
monkiainenCharacters/Pairings: Mycroft/Greg, Mummy Holmes, Sherlock/John (only in background)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Incest, sexual abuse, child abuse, dub-con, eating disorder
Summary: Despite what everyone else thinks, Mycroft loves his little brother.
Notes: My recipient wanted 'Mycroft n Sherlock love each other, really' type of fic, and... well, my muse decided to interpret their wishes in a very twisted way. Please note that all the warnings are there for a reason - this is not a happy story by any means.
I would also like to thank Hoodoo over at FF.net for betaing my story.
Jocasta [dʒoʊˈkæstə]complex
Mycroft Holmes does not cry.
For if he cries, his mother will come to his bedroom late at night and comfort him.
Mycroft Holmes is an enigma. A man who many people know, and yet know nothing about him. There is only one person who knows the man behind the carefully constructed layers upon layers of self-preservation – Mycroft himself. A certain grey-haired Detective Inspector of New Scotland Yard comes close, but even he doesn’t know everything. Greg knows there are things he can’t know about Mycroft, for their safety. It should bother him more than it does, but for some reason it doesn’t. He is just happy to have at least a part of Mycroft for himself. They have come a long way since they started casually sleeping with each other. What used to be a mutual stress relief is now a full-fledged relationship, with all its ups and downs.
Sometimes Mycroft is caught in a middle of nightmare, tossing and turning restlessly in their bed. Afterwards Mycroft is skittish, flinching when Greg tries to comfort him, bordering on catatonic. Greg wished Mycroft could tell him what is wrong.
Once upon a time there was a small boy called Mycroft. He was smarter than most children of his age, a quality that made his mother praise him. It was only natural when your mother is a genius herself.
His mother loved him very, very much. So much that she rather slept in her son’s room instead of the bedroom she shared with her husband. It made Mycroft feel important and cherished – her mother loved him the most.
At first it was just her mother sleeping in the same bed with him, keeping monsters away. Sometimes her mother would pet his hair, telling him what a good boy he was and kissing him goodnight. Nothing more, nothing less.
Her hands were the wandering kind. Stroking his tummy after too much candy, caressing his thighs, fondling his most private parts. At first Mycroft was confused, but then Mummy told him it was alright because he was such a bright and good little boy. Only good little boys were taken care of like that by their Mummies. Mummy would always love him the most.
Every time they visit the notorious Mummy (and the husband), Mycroft is even more polite than usual. Greg just can’t understand what is going with the Holmes brothers and their mother, as she is the most pleasant person he has met for a while. It’s a wonder such a kind woman like her has produced such obnoxious sons. Maybe they had a falling out when Mycroft came out of the closet. They wouldn’t be the first family to have a crisis over someone’s sexual orientation.
Later on, when Mycroft is off who knows where with Sherlock, Greg emboldens himself and asks Mummy what her thoughts were when she found out her oldest son is gay. She smiles gently, telling Greg that she was and is perfectly fine with the fact that she is the only woman her son has and will ever love.
Mycroft couldn’t understand why the great love his Mummy had for him had to be kept a secret. But then Mummy told him they didn’t want to hurt Daddy’s feelings and Mycroft understood it because he was so bright.
Somewhere deep inside Mycroft knows that what Mummy is doing to him at nights is not right. But he is too embarrassed to let anyone know about the truth, for he should have known from the start. He’s a genius, after all.
Mycroft and Sherlock are having a row, again. Although calling it a row is overstating – all they ever do is that Mycroft tries to tell Sherlock what to do and Sherlock refuses to listen. Greg must admit though that having John around has changed things for the better. Not much, but so that brothers actually agree on some things once and a while.
Greg wonders if Mycroft and Sherlock even know what it’s like to have a loving and supporting brother, instead of one that belittles you every step of the way.
When Mycroft is ten years old, Mummy gets pregnant after many years of miscarriages and heartbreak. When his younger brother is born, Mycroft thinks he’s the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.
They name him William Sherlock Scott Holmes. Mycroft wonders if his little brother is going to be as bright as him. For if he is, then Mycroft must protect him. It’s his duty as an older brother. ’Please let him be smarter than me, please don’t let him believe the lies Mummy is telling me at nights’ Mycroft prays silently. It’s not the future he wants his baby brother to have.
Sherlock claims that Mycroft is only interested in his career and influence among the people. To Mycroft, people are only pawns in a never-ending game of fame and fortune, of knowledge and power. Sherlock despises his older brother and his ways.
Sherlock might be blind when it comes to his brother, but Greg can see how much Sherlock’s words are actually hurting Mycroft. He wonders, yet again, why Mycroft can’t show Sherlock how much he really cares. Later on, when Sherlock has stormed off, Greg tries to discuss the matter with Mycroft to no avail. It’s a mystery to be solved, and Greg is determined to make things work between the brothers because he’s tired of seeing the hurt in Mycroft’s eyes every time Sherlock insults him.
Years go by, and Mummy’s visits to Mycroft’s bedroom at nights continue. Mycroft makes sure that he mocks his little brother and his intelligence every time has the chance – if her mother thinks that Mycroft is the more intelligent one, she will leave Sherlock alone. Mycroft goes even that far to suggest that Sherlock would probably be better off at boarding school, away from Mummy’s disapproving eyes. Sherlock away would also mean more time together for Mummy and Mycroft, without the fear of being interrupted by a child demanding his mother’s attention.
Mycroft congratulates himself when he has successfully alienated Mummy from Sherlock. The things he would do out of love for his little brother have no limits. At least Sherlock will be safe, and hopefully will find love someday. Mycroft suffers silently inside his head, when Mummy lowers herself to his erect cock, riding herself into an orgasm. He feels nothing.
Greg loves making love with Mycroft. The sounds he makes when he gives himself fully to the act, dropping all the pretenses and masks, the passion many would be surprised to see he possesses. It’s all there, and Greg never grows tired of it.
Counting Mycroft’s freckles when they’re lying side by side is his favourite thing to do.
The only times Mycroft feels anything is when he’s eating. Food becomes his savior, his only pleasure, the one thing that will lift his spirits when he’s feeling down. So Mycroft eats and eats and eats, until he realizes how much he has eaten in one go. It’s so disgusting. The only way to feel better is to get rid of the food he just ate. Throwing up fixes everything.
Mycroft hates his body and how it betrays him.
Later on Greg wishes he could take it all back. How he was stupid and pushed on, when Mycroft clearly told him to let things be. He has caused his lover so much pain and anguish, over things neither of them have any control of.
One night, after a particularly vivid nightmare, it all comes out. Mycroft is agitated, torn between keeping his worst memories to himself and telling everything to Greg because of the trust between them. Greg embraces him, telling him it was only a nightmare, and that’s when Mycroft snaps.
“It was not just a nightmare. It was my childhood.”
Words like “incest”, “sexual abuse”, ”eating disorder” are talked over and over again. How Mycroft sacrificed himself in order to protect Sherlock. How Mycroft turned their mother against her own, long-awaited younger son so that he wouldn’t have to go through the same horrors he had to.
How he can never tell Sherlock how much he means to him, because it would mean telling the truth. And truth is something Sherlock can never know.
The next time Sherlock insults Mycroft, Greg wishes Sherlock would know how much his older brother truly loves him.
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no subject
Date: 2014-06-14 11:21 pm (UTC)*flips table*
And it's my birthday tomorrow! :D
It is so painful, and so loving at the same time - I just want to give Mycroft a hug now, because Mummy is fucking monster, and you portrayed that so beautifully by using Mycroft's precise language. It makes me wonder if Sherlock was actually left alone, or if he suffered for Mycroft, too.
Thank you, nonny - this is just fantastic :D
no subject
Date: 2014-07-01 09:39 pm (UTC)I'm superduperglad that you liked what I had written for you - when you're writing a story this... angsty and painful and oh-holy-shit-what-made-me-write-this there's always a thought of "Did I go to far? Is my recipient going to like this or not?". I'm just happy I didn't cross a line somewhere, and this was what you wanted.
no subject
Date: 2014-06-15 04:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-07-01 09:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-15 05:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-07-01 09:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-06-21 07:01 pm (UTC)Sincere compliments for your writing style.
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Date: 2014-07-01 09:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-07-18 03:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-07-18 05:45 am (UTC)