[personal profile] nickelsandcoats
Title: I'll Give You Everything You Need (You've Given Me Everything I Want) 16/? || at Ao3
Author: Sarah/[livejournal.com profile] nickelsandcoats
Rating: PG13 for this part
Spoilers: Spoilers (eventually) for all of season 2!
Word Count: ~1,300 for this part
Pairings: Sherlock/John, Mycroft/Lestrade
Warnings: AU.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Mycroft's never given his feathers to anyone before, but one person wins him over without even trying.
Notes: For [livejournal.com profile] flying_dreamz's prompt here at my shuffle meme post. She asked for #103, which were "The Resurrection Stone" from the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part II soundtrack and "Amy in the Tardis" from the Doctor Who: Season 5 soundtrack.

This is a sequel to Here Is What My Heart Will Give You (and Here Are the Things I Will Give Up for You). You really should read that one first before you read this story or this story will not make any sense. One last note: this story is set pre-Here Is What My Heart Will Give You (and Here Are the Things I Will Give Up for You) and will eventually end up post-Reichenbach. Expect lots of angst.

part i || part ii || part iii || part iv || part v || part vi || part vii || part viii || part ix || part x || part xi || part xii || part xiii || part xiv || part xv


Greg Lestrade was a practical man. When confronted with something extraordinary, he would blink, adjust his worldview, and move on. When told that the man he loved was all but immortal and wanted to bond with him, but told him that that permanent bond would be one-sided and cause him to be entirely alone after Greg died, Greg Lestrade shattered.

He woke up before Mycroft did the morning he learned of his lover’s secret, and watched him for a moment before steeling himself to slip out of their bed. He pulled on his clothes and felt about for the pen and paper Mycroft kept on the bureau. Scratching out a quick note, he left it on his pillow and then slipped out the door, padding down to the kitchen. He made a thermos of tea and took a scone, stuffing it in his mouth as he screwed on the lid to the thermos. He set down his prize on the little table by the front closet and pulled on his coat before he quietly opened and shut the door behind him. Squaring his shoulders, he filled his lungs once, twice, and then let his feet take him wither they would.

He wandered about London for hours, stopping into little shops he’d not noticed before, eating lunch when his stomach finally rebelled, grabbing a coffee from his favourite shop. His mobile didn’t buzz or ring once, and he was glad Mycroft had respected his desire for a little space to absorb everything he’d learned. It was, frankly, a lot to take in all at once.

Greg settled in, coffee firmly in hand, on a bench in Hyde Park, watching as the tourists ambled by. He crumbled a bit of pastry for the pigeons and jumped as his mobile buzzed for the first time since last night.

Thought you may want to talk. All ears, if you want.

He held the mobile in his hand, thumb hovering over the keys, for a full minute before he started typing.

Yeah. Thanks.

Where are you? I can meet you there.

Hyde Park. Pick a place and I’ll meet you. Pub?

Too crowded. Meet me at that Thai place near 221b. My treat.

Be there in 30.

When he entered the quiet restaurant, John half stood from his seat and waved him over, sharp eyes taking in everything of Greg’s posture, facial expressions, and clothing as he made his way over to their table. Greg dropped down into the booth opposite John and immediately started fidgeting with the menu. John said nothing to him until after their waitress dropped off two pints (Greg gave John a silent salute, which John grinned at) and took their orders. After taking a swig, John set down his pint and looked right at him and said, “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“How did you⎯no, never mind. You’ve been hanging around Sherlock too long.”

John grinned. “No, I know he talked to you. Sherlock and I all but ordered him to. You deserved to know the truth.”

“And is it true? Are you really…like them?”

“I am.” John sobered a bit and said, “It was fucking terrifying, making the choice I did to accept Sherlock’s offer and let him bond to me. He doesn’t realise it, of course, and I’ve not told him. But I almost turned him down at first.”

“Why did you change your mind?”

“Because of the way he looked at me when he asked me. While he was explaining it and what it meant to him, I thought I could never inflict the pain he would be in after I died on him. I just couldn’t do it. But when he handed me his feather and looked at me as if I was the one his entire life was hung up on, I couldn’t say no.”

“But you didn’t see him after you died! I have never in my life witnessed anyone sink so low as he did. He was all but dead himself, John, and I can’t…” he trailed off and swallowed, drank some of his lager, and whispered, “I can’t let Mycroft do that to himself. I can’t. I would never be happy knowing that when I died he would look like that, and that he would look like that for every life he lived after me. The fleeting happiness we might have would never be enough to hold him over, and it’s not fair to him to have to live like that.”

“Is it fair to deny both of you happiness?”

Greg pointed a finger in John’s face. “Don’t play dirty with me, Watson,” he growled. “It’s not worth knowing he’ll be miserable for God knows how long and I won’t be around to make it better.”

Their waitress came back with their food, and they both fell in to eating for a while. John was chasing the last of his snow peas around his bowl when Greg finally asked, “What does it feel like?”

“What does what feel like? Being bonded?”


John fidgeted with his fork, rubbing one finger up and down the handle. “I don’t know if I can describe it. It’s like coming home to a warm fire after a cold day. It’s like finding that one piece of a puzzle you lost years ago. It’s like I’ve found a part of myself I knew was missing, and now I’m truly who I was meant to be. It’s incredible, exhilarating, fucking terrifying, and the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Greg shifted a bit, uncomfortable at the thought of what he could be missing with Mycroft. “But before you…changed, and I want to ask you about that, later, how did you decide to do it? You knew what would happen after you died.”

“I did,” John said slowly. “But Sherlock…Sherlock is something else. He gave me back myself. He saved my life. After I got back, when I was discharged and crippled and just…meandering through my life, he gave me purpose again. I had a cause, and that cause was loving that man and protecting him. And I thought, if I can help him understand who he is and how much he is loved, maybe I would make a difference that would last him all of his lives. I would always be there, in some part of him.” He took a deep breath and looked up, forcing Greg to meet his gaze. “And that’s why I did it. I’ve never been happier. And now that I’ll always be there, well…I’m looking forward to seeing how he, and we, grow and change.”

Greg swallowed and broke John’s stare, grabbing his pint and taking the last swig.


He glanced at John, unsettled by the look on his face.

“I love Sherlock. I can’t imagine denying us, or him, that love. I know you love Mycroft, and he loves you so deeply in return that he’s willing to sacrifice his happiness to keep you with him. But, Greg, think about it. Please.”

“All right, yeah.” Greg pulled out his wallet, slapped some bills on the table. John shoved them back at him, frowning. Greg rolled his eyes and gave his thanks.

As they were shrugging into their jackets, John’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out and looked at his message, frowning slightly.

“What is it?”


“Oh, Christ. What now?”

“He wants to see you, too. Apparently, there’s a case.” He tucked the phone back into his pocket. “Coming?”

“Sure,” Greg said, already heading for the door. “I need something to distract me for a bit.”

“I can guarantee you a distraction, but it may not a pleasant one.”

They both chuckled as they headed out, pulling their collars up against the light drizzle.

part xvii



March 2013

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