So I know I should be busy writing A Collection of Malec, and I am- I've got a lovely pain-filled chapter on the way, but I watched the last episode of Sherlock last night and realised that I literally adore Eurus Holmes. It broke my heart when she was just sat in the roof all lost and alone. And when Sherlock just held her with all the love she'd been denied, man that was emotional.

So, anyway, this is a little drabble about her. It could be Mycroft speaking or some random other observer. Read it how you will :)

I am a sucker for songs so here you go- read it to 'Unsteady' by X Ambassadors

I own nothing

Eurus

Eurus Holmes was a victim of her own mind.

That was what they would always say when they spoke of her in hushed terms in dark corners. She had become a taboo subject and yet the unspeakable silence about her was heartbreakingly beautiful. You could look at her and see an inhuman murderer or you could look at her and see a lost and frightened child.

Sherlock always saw the child. From the moment, he'd laid eyes on her in the roof, his little sister, she'd been a child to him. A child who had been lonely since the day she was born and a child who just needed a hug. Maybe it was because Sherlock understood what it was like to be lonely. He knew the agonising pain of not being understood, of not being taken as who you were.

She was different and still he found a way to connect with her. Yes, she had killed Redbeard but somehow that was irrelevant to Sherlock now. He had dug Eurus out of her pit of insanity and he needed to keep her out. They were both murderers, both had complicated reasons and both knew how they needed the other.

They would always talk about Eurus with some form of fear in their voices. People fear what they can't control and she's too unpredictable for human comprehension. Maybe her silence is a blessing, maybe it'll save the world from disaster. Maybe she'll shrink back into a shell of a human, trapped in her own genius prison. Or maybe he'll bring her back.

Who knows whether Sherlock Holmes can dive back into her mind, envelop her brokenness with the most humanity he's ever had.

I am beginning to see that it's empathy that draws him to her. He sees a little bit of himself in her. Perhaps there is a piece of Sherlock Holmes trapped with Eurus. Perhaps it's the Holmes curse to be lonely.

I don't know. We'll never know.

I am going to wishfully hope for reviews but don't worry- I'll write regardless. Crawls away to her lonely cave...