Title: Alienated
Author: Jessie Blackwood
Pairing: Mycroft/Lestrade
Fandoms: Sherlock
Rating: PG
Note: These are a series of ficlets, short fiction pieces (I hesitate to call them drabbles because I think they're too long, despite the loose definition being 500 words), inspired by one-word prompts from my followers on Tumblr, because I wanted to celebrate passing the 50 follower mark.
Over the last two years since losing my best friend and soulmate, Heather, everyone on Tumblr, particularly the Mystrade crew, have quite honestly saved my life and my sanity. So thanks, guys. These little one-shots are prompted by all of you and are my thank you. I hope you enjoy.
Summary: This one is the prompt from egmon73 which is 'Alienated'.

***

“Before you, I felt...cut off, left out,” Mycroft said, watching the chaos of a Lestrade family birthday unfold around him. He was sitting at the large well-scrubbed farmhouse table in the Lestrade-Lucas family home in the Loire Valley, cradling a glass of rather fine sauvignon blanc from the family vineyard. Maria, Greg’s sister, was cooking dinner, helped (and hindered) by her four sisters-in-law, plus their eldest children, plus Grand'Mere Lucille, Matriarch of the Lucas family. The menfolk were drinking beer, and discussing politics and sport, while trying not to look as though they were minding the kids outside in the garden. Periodically, several of their charges would dash into the kitchen chasing each other and shouting at the tops of their voices, to be berated by the women, and chased out again, whereupon the men would be berated for not keeping a weather eye on them.

Mycroft looked...content, Greg thought, watching him with affection that threatened to spill over. Greg’s niece, Natasha, was turning six and the family had gathered to celebrate, an event which Greg had hesitated to invite his partner to, because he knew his own family and the fact that Mycroft favoured peace and quiet. He need not have worried. They had welcomed Mycroft with open arms and he had seemed to accept the chaos in a bemused fashion. Tasha had adopted ‘Oncle Meecroff,” and adored the plush shaggy dog they had bought her.

“Alientated,” Mycroft said, dropping the word into the conversation like a baited hook, sipping more wine immediately after. He was sure the wine was going to his head. He was more uninhibited than usual. A part of him couldn’t have cared less.

“Pardon?” Greg was slow to catch up.

“Alienated,” Mycroft repeated. “Before I met you, I felt alienated. From everyone. From my colleagues, from life, most especially from family. I was shut out of anything...normal. Your family are normal...”

Greg snorted. “Define normal,” he replied, grimacing. “I don’t think my family and that word should be included in the same sentence.”

“Your family are most definitely normal...well, more normal than others…” Mycroft hiccupped softly. “What I mean to say is...I don’t feel alienated here. I feel...accepted. Included. Wanted.”

Greg tried not to wince at that last comment. “Of course you’re wanted, Gorgeous,” he said gently. “Always.”

Mycroft shook his head. “You don’t understand…” he began but at that moment, Tasha dashed in from the garden where she had been playing with her friends, her siblings, and her many cousins, and grabbed ‘Oncle Meecroff’ by the hand, attempting to drag him outside.

“Tasha, Tasha, qu'est-ce que tu veux, ma petite chérie?” Mycroft asked, laughing, barely managing to put the glass down without spilling.

“Joue avec nous,” she squealed, demanding. Play with us. Mycroft glanced at Greg and shrugged.

“Needs must,” he said with a smile. Greg watched him go, wondering. Then he laughed and shook his head, following him outside. His brother-in-law, Henri, passed him a beer.

He watched as his partner played hide and seek with his niece and the rest, still wondering. This was a new side to his lover. Alienated no more, at any rate, he thought, and he would go a Hell of a long way to prevent Mycroft feeling that way ever again.

***