I tried to close my eyes again and again the horrible image formed in front of my eyes. I opened my eyes to drive away the image - but that scene has scratched my brain in such a way I am not sure whether i will be able to get rid of it anytime sooner (or later). Everytime I close my eyes - it is me pointing a gun ( so steadily! ) towards My Brother , my ever irritating overbearing brother! I can feel the chill through my spine every time this horrible picture flashes in my mind. "No flowers" - Mycroft's words are still echoing in my ears! How could he? How could he be so calm about the whole thing? I am his little brother - his own baby brother was pointing the damn gun towards him - how could he still manage to smile! I am sure he could remember all those times when he spent the nights sobering my whimpers, cleaning my wounds, comforting me to sleep - yet he is "the Iceman"! Really Mycroft? After all these years! Suddenly I feel an urge to cry out loud, to run into my brothers room interrupting whatever bullshit he was doing like I used to, to shake him and tell him... What? What would I tell him? What could I possibly tell him? You cannot tell anything to the person you pointed a bloody gun to! But there are so many things to say - so many words left unsaid - I can feel those words throbbing hard in my chest, I can feel those words making a lump in my throat. It's 4 am in the morning. I left my bed. I need to see My Brother .
Chapter 2: Mycroft Holmes
Summary:
This chapter is from Mycroft's POV.
This is it. I finally closed the file ( I really have no idea which one is this) and threw it on the desk. I ran my hand through my hair, my hands are still shaking a bit - I blame this to the whisky. It was the longest day of my life. It was the longest nightmare too. There is a weird feeling, you know! There were so much secrets with me - I almost grew up with them. Then suddenly everything comes up - your well kept secrets came in front of you and started to mock your whole life! There is a scientific fact that a sudden release of pressure can be fatal - who knows!
There were so many deaths - blood - I was nothing but a failure. Still here I am - sitting in my room - it felt strange, I feel like i am standing naked in a busy street! The enigma is gone, the mask is broken, the charade has ended - suddenly it is oddly easier to breathe, even with the guilt.
Now I am free - I am free to take a leave... It's a shame that Sherlock did not pull the trigger - Hell! He dared to turn it towards himself - in front of me! Does he have any idea what he was doing to me!
He took the wrong turn. I will not. It's time to let go. I took one last sip from the glass and put it on the table. I am feeling tired. I need to sleep. I want to dream again like I used to when I was a child. I bolted the bedroom door. The bed seems like a welcoming mother...
Chapter 3: Sherlock Holmes
Summary:
Sherlock's POV
I came to Mycroft's home within minutes. I did not know what I was thinking the whole way - but there were bits of memories - the past I never bothered to reminisce before.
I was six I think when Mycroft broke his ankle because of me. He never complained - I always took him as granted. He is my big brother - he is allowed to do all these things for me. I am the little one - I should be indulged. Throughout my whole life it never occurred to me even once that when he took blame for me, be beaten for me - he was also a child himself... He was merely a teenage boy when he was burdened with Eurus' secret - still now it is beyond my understanding how the hell did he manage to grow up - without being insane!
I was lost in my thought - when it first occurred to me that my brother's bedroom door is locked - which is very much uncharacteristic of him! I know Mycroft better than any one else (though my confidence faltered a bit after today's events) - whatever may be the reason, he would never lock his bedroom door. A fear ran through my bones - a very unfamiliar chill - a worry never felt before - I need to unlock the door immediately!
I am trying to pick the lock - it seems too long - hours may be - cannot keep track of time now! My hands are trembling pathetically without helping the situation a bit. Mycroft needs me - now! I cursed the door- and everything between us! Finally the door bolted open - and suddenly I feel absolutely nothing. Mycroft is lying in the bed - as if sleeping peacefully - only too still to breathe! I touched his even paler face - it's cold like ice.
"Mycroft" I cannot recognize my own voice, but that's not the point. Mycroft isn't moving - I am shaking him - quite vigorously - his eyes are still closed. I thought I knew fear after Baskerville - but if that was fear, then what is Thi mind numbing feeling called? I mechanically dial for ambulance, one hand still holding Mycroft's motionless ( I am not ready to call it lifeless - not yet ) hand. Oh Mycroft - why? Please don't leave me now - I need to tell you so many things... I cannot tell how much time I spent holding his hand - but when the paramedics team came his hands were still in mine. "suicide" - the word uttered by one of the blokes hit me like a hard punch. I always looked up to Mycroft with an awe - i can never imagine my brother any less stronger - the word "suicide" does not simply go with him. Not with Mycroft! I am the impulsive one - the stupid one, not him.
"Hey - careful! You're hurting him!" Suddenly I cannot recognize the rage in my voice. The bloke gave me an apologetic look.
"Are you his emergency contact? Do you need to call someone? We need someone at the hospital now" - one of them asked me. All those words seemed meaningless babble to me. I think I replied him properly - since he moved on with his work. The next thing I remember is being thanked by the doctors for calling the ambulance just in time. I am now allowed to see Mycroft - though he is still under deep slumber. I made my way towards his cabin, for the first time in my life thanking God for granting me one more opportunity. The wetness of my eyes is nothing compared to the relief in my heart. Slowly I open the door.
Chapter 4: Mycroft Holmes
The soft light is touching my face - I can feel that even without opening my eyes. My head seems heavier - and there is the odd smell of medicines and fresh linens - a hospital bed! I am in a hospital! OH MY GOD! How did I end up here? Was it Anthea or Lestrade? Who found me in that Goddamn hour?
"My -"
I feel a soft touch on my forehead - an almost forgotten touch. I try not to flinch away... I open my eyes slowly. I failed again. How could one face people after a failed attempt of suicide - what should I say to this person, looking at me with so much concern (when did this happen!)?
The stubble on Sherlock's face and the dark circles under his eyes tell it's almost 24 hours since he is sitting beside me. I must caused him so much trouble! I started to say sorry or something down the line - but Sherlock's hand cupped my cheek. There is a tenderness in his touch that I never felt before. Suddenly I feel hard to breathe. My eyes are stinging. Sherlock is caressing my cheek with his thumb pad. Pain flushed his eyes. His eyes are moist. He lowered his head.
"Don't ever think of leaving me My" - his whisper sounded almost like a sob. What can I say to that? I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. I nodded.
For the first time he smiled and I felt his teary smile is the best thing one can witness in this universe.
"You need a shave" , my voice is hoarse ( I think due to heavy medication) - I tried to smile at him.
"Don't try to be funny Mycroft! It was not funny - you know, seeing you lying still on the bed, cold! You have no idea how I spent the last 24 hours "- he is suddenly fuming with anger.
" I guess I have an idea brother mine, I spent numerous times beside your hospital bed when you overdosed, or got shot" - I could not stop myself spitting those words.
Sherlock stood up. He looked away.
" I thought i knew how fear felt, but i was wrong you know. I never knew what fear is until i saw you dying in front of my eyes... I never thought you as the person who could do this kind of thing - but again how much do i know you actually? One day at Sherrinford - made many things clear to me. I have so many things to say to you Mycroft, but this neither the place nor the time" - Sherlock was talking without even looking at me.
I felt something bubbled up in my chest. There was an urge to see his face. There are many things I need to tell him too, but I am not sure I could ever tell those to him. So I kept silent.
Sherlock turned towards me again. He sat beside me wordlessly and took my hand into his. I was shocked at first - then i gave in to the comfort, i think i was too tired to fight.
" I am coming with you after the doctor discharge you" Sherlock said in a firm tone.
" I won't do anything stupid you know! The phase is over now. Don't worry. You don't need to check on me" I insisted.
There was emotion that I never expected to see in those blue grey eyes. Sherlock looked at me. Then he replied as if to himself, " I need to be beside you, My - to feel you safe and breathing beside me. I need to know that I can touch you if I stretch out my hand, I need to be assured with your existence - to be sane, to regain myself... Please My, let me stay with you, won't be a bother - I promise".
Something in my throat almost choked me. My vision blurred. All I could do is to hold my hand out and touch his arm. I wanted to crush him in my embrace but there were too many years stood between us. But in response to my squeeze in his arm, he smiled and his hand came to my cheek to wipe the tear off.
I never thought I would see Mycroft in a hospital bed for attempting suicide, yet here I am. With my stupid elder brother. Mycroft looks terribly pale. His eyes are glassy. I could not remember when I last saw him this sickly pale. But these are not my concern right now. What disturbing me is Mycroft's attitude. Everything in his body screaming his defeat! As if he had lost all the battles of life. He looks tired, extremely and thoroughly.
Now that doctors declared him out of danger, and he is sleeping, I get the time to think. I tried to think everything from Mycroft's point of view. I need to know his perspective to avoid this kind of situation in future. The first thing that hit me was where should I start? The beginning - when they took Eurus away, or even before that? Now I remembered clearly those vacation we spent out on the beach. I used to be very close to him. Why shouldn't I? He was the best big brother anyone can even imagine of. The smartest the brightest and ever so protective. But then I remembered he was always very protective about both of us - initially at least.
Then it was only me. I remembered how Mycroft always came to me with those never ending stories everytime I woke up with a nightmare. He was always there - comforting me. But now when I try to think the whole scenario as a third person it astonished me that when all these happened he was only 14! Jesus! A fourteen year old boy - who loved his siblings so dearly, then realised one's true nature and the potential of causing harm to the rest of the family. How did he feel when he first realize the evil in Eurus? I had nightmares, I got Mycroft - always. But I wonder, when he had nightmares (he must had) who was there to comfort him? No one! There was never one to comfort him - to tell him that everything gonna be alright.
* "I am not lonely Sherlock"
"How would you know?"
How could one know loneliness when loneliness is his only constant companion! I could not think longer - Mycroft Holmes is anything but not a coward. He just needed to be reminded that he was not a machine, he needed a bloody break. And for the fucking forty years we never even bothered to give him that.
I am feeling exhausted. And I did the only thing I do since childhood whenever I need comfort, assurance - I sat on Mycroft's bed, and slowly put my head on his chest. The constant thrumming of his heart was like a lullaby, I clutched the side of his robe and let all my exhaustion drain out.
I did not know when I fell asleep, but I woke up with a gentle touch in my hair. The touch was oddly familiar. And looked up to the face that was smiling towards me. A soothing smile. Always assuring. I could not process any word, instead my head dipped and before I knew anything I felt that I was kissing him like my life depends on it!
Chapter 6: Mycroft Holmes
Summary:
For God's sake hold your tongue, and let me love.
- John Donne
When I first opened my eyes I realised that there was sudden lack of pain in my body. There was an unfamiliar warmth in it - which I did not able to feel over a few decades.
Then there was a very pleasant weight on my chest. There he was - sleeping like a child - head pressed on my chest, mouth slightly opened. His neck was in an awful angle. But I didn't try to move it lest that woke him up. It reminded me those almost forgotten childhood days - when there was no malice between us... Sometimes it feels like a whole another life. I touched very lightly those unruly mop of his. The touch was familiar yet so very new. Before I could remove my hand he woke up. He smiled at me like never before. I did not know what happened then but the next thing I felt that we were kissing - like we were born to do this.
Moments passed or years... We broke apart merely because we needed air to survive. We were shocked. Of course we would be - because of course that was the last thing any of us expected. But strangely enough I don't know why, I was not feeling ashamed or guilty. But I should feel so, right? He is my BROTHER for Gods sake! Then why is it feeling so damn right? Why am I dying to pull him close and kiss his life out? I tried to find the answer in his eyes, instead I found the reflection of mine there.
I don't know what to say now - "sorry" or "thank you"? Just " fuck off" or " forget everything and come into my arms" ?
"My, I know we need to talk - and believe me I didn't plan any of this, but can we just not talk right now? Just once more My, please?"
He made it easier. We will talk later. We will think later. Right now I need him.
This time it is so much different than the first time. I can actually feel my rate increasing even higher. I can feel that my heart can burst with the tease of anticipation. I can feel my mouth going dry - then his lips touch mine and the world melts into oblivion. I close my eyes and my hands clutch his hair in their own accord. He is everything one can imagine of. He is the taste of heaven, he is the burn of hell. He is the melody of joy, he is the tune of melancholy. I am drinking him. I am soaking him in.
Don't know how long it was, but somewhere near our room a door clicked. And the spell broke. We separated. Sherlock rearranged (when did I make him This dishevelled!) his hair and smiled coyly while wiping my face with his pocket handkerchief.
"I am capable of at least this you know" - I try to sound cross.
"I know - but it feels nice - after all I am the one who made your face look like that" - he smirked. And I cannot control my blush.
" God - My, you're blushing like a young girl" he sounds amused.
I think in response my blush went deeper.
" Can't you wait until I go home?" I finally manage to form a proper sentence - thank goodness for that.
Sherlock just smiled and gives me a quick peck.
"that is what i am waiting for" - he whispers into my ear.
I must admit that Mycroft's couch was much more comfortable than I thought. Although I had a very strong feeling that the proximity of my brother had something to do with it. His hand was carding my hair (pure bliss) and he was saying something about a discussion I think. I am not known as a good listener, specially when it comes to Mycroft. So I ignored him (plain and simple). Instead I turned my head a bit, positioning it comfortably in his lap.
"Sherlock - are you at all listening to me?" He sounded almost irritated.
"Mmm hmm"
"What does it even mean?"
"Please continue, feels nice"
"(an audible sigh) please tell specifically which part of my whole speech you find so nice?"
"Umm - your finger in my hair - that part" - I smiled broadly. I know my brother and I know I won the moment I smiled.
"Sherlock! I m serious here. Please try to cooperate at least"
"pray tell me why the hell should I do that? Since the last few hours you're saying the same thing that whatever was between us was nothing but an illusion. Its some kind of hormone induced instinct and blah blah blah. But both of us know that this is simply bullshit! Then why bother? You finish your lecture quickly so that we can have some real talk."
" Some real talk? What do you mean by that Sherlock?"
" We didn't talk to each other since the last two decades for Gods sake My. There are many things at least I have to tell you. I thought you also had some. Those are the real you see, the sooner you finish this rubbish the sooner we can go there" - my voice somehow became much angrier than I initially thought.
This time I caught his attention. He looked at me - really looked at me. Then he said calmly, "this is true then."
Just a statement nothing else. But this one sentence made it all easier. I did not even understand when I started blabbering -
" You know Mycroft - that day, that dreadful day after Sherrinford, whenever I closed my eyes I saw myself holding a gun straight towards you. And I felt numb. The moment you said goodbye to me was the moment I realised I am nothing without you. And then there were you, standing calmly... I could not just erase that image. I wanted to come to you right that moment. I wanted to throw myself to you... And that's why I came here you know" I could not continue as the memory of that day flooded my mind. But as always, Mycroft understood everything I did not say. He said nothing, just embraced me. A warm hug and nothing else, and heaven became the earth.
We were in each others arms and the universe came to a halt. This is where I need to be. In his arms, safe and loved. Life was never so beautiful before.
"But what if -" he started in almost whispering voice.
I put my hand on his mouth, "put a stop to all these 'what if' s My. I have seen your eyes, I have heard your heartbeat. I found my answer. Its time you find yours. You'll know."
In response he pulled me even closer. I felt a bit wetness in the crook of my neck. It took me no time to pull that beautiful tear stained face of his and kiss every drop off it. I kissed him - again, this time I made it sure that my silly brother gets answers to his every question in it.
Chapter 8: Epilogue
Summary:
At the end, it's all about love.
*
Like every other story in this world, theirs also had an end. Some might call that a perfect, some might not. Mycroft Holmes and Sherlock Holmes are legends, they lived, they ruled. Behind their empire there lied their own story with all its beautiful flaws and defects.
There were times when they were too much for each other, but there was never a single time when they were not for each other...
So, when in a lazy afternoon, you walk past that park there, you may see two old men bickering over a silly board game or debating on a very complex theory of biotechnology - wait there for a moment. You will see, the debate or the bickering continues, but without even bothering to stop one of them will hand the other an old faded scarf and the other holding out an old umbrella...
