Ok, so I hate this, it's awful, but I REALLY wanted to do something for Mother's Day, (because come on our moms are awesome) and I remembered Mycroft and Sherlock having a conversation about "Mummy" once...so I thought I have 20 minutes to spare, and I'm really sick, so hopefully I could come up with something decent, and then I came up with this mess. Soooooooo yeaaa, this is it really, it's at least something, and I really wanted to just get something in for Mother's Day. :)

It had been a long time since Sherlock and Mycroft were anything beyond remotely civil to each other. Mrs. Holmes could barely remember if there was a time when they weren't arch enemies (according to one).

How it pained her. Her family, although in only name and blood. She wished things were not like this. How her sons didn't care. How they trained each other and themselves to reject love and sentiment, above all else.

Would they have kept any of it? Did they even care for her? On a such a significant day, she could only help but wonder. She was alone. She was sure that unless Mycroft magically procured children-which probably would either solely be for political benefit, or for the carrying on of the Holmes lineage, she was the last, female Holmes. Her youngest son, had just come back from being dead, of course this did not increase the chance of there being a new generation, but his prior death certainly put things in different perspectives.
Her children did not do love though. Well, she supposed they really weren't born because of it either, but she had never thought that could influence someone to hate it so. Is that what happened? However as much as these thoughts weighed much on her conscience and in her brain, as well as the thought of the certainty of never becoming a grandmother, never having other mothers in the Holmes line to congratulate on days like this, no more Holmes children to observe with their distinct intellect, bothered her, in the end it was minuscule compared to her greatest doubt on this day, for this day, because of this day.

Did her children even think of her today? Did they ever think of her? Did they remember her, or delete her from their memory, or push her back into the deepest recesses of their minds? Who was she to them? Do they recall ever having a mother or just the nanny?

She was pulled out of her musings by the butler announcing visitors. He refused to tell her who, courtesy towards the guests' wishes.

She pondered for a minute on who would turn up at this time on this day.

She came up blank.

Finally, she nodded to the butler, who went to retrieve the mini handgun, should anyone on the other side of the door have ill intentions.

She opened the door first to allow the guests inside as well as give the butler a clear shot, if necessary.

However the sight before her made her freeze in shock. And happiness.

For there stood both her boys, maybe a bit conflicted or annoyed by having to come in the case of the younger-as well as not dead apparently, but both had come nonetheless.

Such joy and happiness flooded her, and threatened to roll down her cheeks in tears, but she was a strong Holmes woman, and like her family, she was skilled in keeping her emotions in check.

Her emotions must have slipped through though because they approached her in an embrace each, something they rarely did-and only in cases to sooth. She was right. As soon as her cheek touched her elder son's shoulder, she saw a spot darken on his suit jacket. She then realized the tears had come out anyway as she felt the wetness on her checks and hastily sought to dry it.

After Mycroft, whom she motioned to come inside, she then turned to her youngest.

There stood Sherlock with confusion and conflict in his eyes. She respected his feelings and space. She would not hug him unless he came forward, like he did as a toddler, when he was learning to walk, she briefly remembered.

She stood there patiently waiting, to see what he would decide to do next. She stood and watched. Eventually Sherlock then stood straighter, and walked a few steps to stand directly in front of her and engulfed her in a tight embrace.

She could feel his tense, stressed out body slightly trembling. When she looked into his eyes, she saw all the pain, confusion, angst, that he hid behind the cold unfeeling detective, or the detective who got giddy with mystery murders. For once, he needed her. He needed a mother's love, and support, and healing touch. God knows what he had done during his period of being 'dead' to end up like this, but for the first time, he needed her, and whether or not he even remembers this or delete it from his mind palace immediately after, she would make sure he was good as new, because for the first time ever, Sherlock Holmes, her brilliant son, needed her.

She pulled him back into a loving maternal embrace, petting his head, and the unruly mass of curls,when slowly he turned his head slightly and whispered in her ear, "Happy Mother's day,...mummy".

Clearly he was not ok, and definitely not his usual self. She would be strong for his sake, she would be the same strong Holmes woman alternately respected or feared, and she would bring back her newly 'resurrected' son to full life, where everyone was annoyed, where crimes were being solved, and where he was having fun in the games solving them. She would piece back the broken mess of the genius. Because that is what mothers are here for. That is what they do. They are the support and love which no one else can give. And she took pride that she could live up to such a title for once, finally.

She would be her here for her boys today. Like any proper mother should. She could finally do her duty.

Perhaps this year it would actually be a mother's day- for her.

Yup, so that was it, if it was really that terrible, go ahead and tell me, any writing style suggestions, I am always entirely open to tips and more, and once i finish these last 2-3 weeks of horrendous exams I'll be back to working on my other two stories that are currently hanging in the lim-bo! LOL Enjoy your mother's day guys! Make the mommies feel loved :D 3 gotta go! Allon-sy!