Me: I'm Fine.

Me: I'm fine.

Me, internally: Mycroft Holmes is the most precious person and nobody appreciates him. Sure, he has this stupid power complex, but he goes through every shit to protect his brother. He abuses government means to the extremest to keep an eye on him, risking his job to do so although it is the only thing he has, the only thing that distracts his mind and gives him purpose. He worries and is mocked about his weight when he is fucking gorgeous. He makes Sherlock forget about Victor Trevor's death and Eurus to enable him a normal, stable life - making that decision on his own at a very young age, because apparently he thought it was the very best for him. He helps Sherlock through his drug addiction, lets him write lists to ensure his highs will never end six feet under. He checks on his brother's new flatmate to make sure he does not threaten his newly-gained and fragile stability, helps Sherlock to fake his death, gets him out of Russian imprisonment by doing legwork that he is obviously not at all used to, risking his job and even his life, this time, gets him a pardon so Sherlock won't go mad in prison, assures him his support when Sherlock is a cynical bitch, accuses Lady Smallwood of being a spy because his brother believes so, and insults Sherlock and John to get his brother to kill him because he knows Sherlock needs John, despite the fact that he has just freaked out and vomitted because a man has been shot with a gun. He manages to play his act cooly to make it easier for his brother and STILL after all he's done for Sherlock, his brother chooses to shoot him, proving that here is nobody who loves him the most, that even the only person he cares about would choose somebody else over him. And then Mummy holmes says Sherlock has always been the grown up, like, fuck you, you don't know a shit about your own family. It bloody /hurts/, just give this wonderful, caring man some love like I don't even care who it is he deserves it so fucking much