OH MY GOD I LOVE SHERLOCK!
Well, hello there, fellow Sherlockians. I am about a month old to this fandom. And I am obsessed.
Tomorrow we see our awesome detective again. *explodes*
And this is my first Sherlock fanfic! Hello! I'm Blue Turtle of AWESOMENESS!
This is a one-shot Drabble thingy ma jig, post Reichenbach. Mycroft grieves his brother, and wonders why he was never there for him. This includes a flashback of bullied!Sherlock and a hateful father.
Im sorry, i just see his childhood that way.
Enjoy! Drop a review maybe! I'm planning a longer fic very soon, so response to this will help...ah, steer me in the right direction.
Enjoy, and HAPPY NEW YEARS EVE!
He hadn't been there for him.
All those security cameras. All those people, watching, and he hadn't been there for him.
Mycroft slumped in the chair. A dry sob caught in his throat. He had never been there.
"Oi, freak!"
The ten year old stopped swinging, and looked over, startled. His blue eyes swam with fear as he saw the older boys swaggering before him.
"Hey, freak. What's up? Deducing something?"
Sherlock looked down.
"Hanging out with your friends? Oh wait...I forgot...you are a freak and you don't have friends," the gang leader said, shoving the boy off the swing.
He landed on the floor with a thud and a cry.
"Pathetic," the bully sniggered.
"Gerroff me!" Sherlock cried. He shuffled backwards. His eyes flickered across the gang, across the park...
And onto his brother, who was standing stiffly at the side.
"Mycroft...?" the young Holmes asked weakly.
Mycroft said nothing.
"Mycroft?! Help, please..." he whispered. The other boys were drawing closer.
His brother opened his mouth, perhaps to tell them to stop...
But then their father came.
"Leave him, my son," he hissed in the eldest's ears.
"But, father..."
"Let him learn how to walk. Let them teach him his strengths. He's a weak little freak, Mycroft. Let him walk, then we can help him to fly."
And Sherlock watched his family leave him.
His eyes hardened, and he vowed not to trust again.
Mycroft let salty tears fill his mouth.
He should never have let him be taught to walk.
He should have helped him, not them.
And then he should've helped him find his wings.
But Sherlock had flew.
He had flown, and Mycroft sincerely hoped he was in a better place.
Poor Mycroft. Anyone got any theories on TOMORROW AT 9PM?!
I do.
C yaz!
BLUE TURTLE OF AWESOMENESS xxx