Thunder clapped when Mrs. Holmes began feeling excruciating pain in her abdomen. With a cry in the night of her pain she woke up her husband as well as her two sons in the large cottage by the sea. Mr. Holmes jumped to his feet quickly, calling for one of the maids as he tore back the sheets to find blood. A maid rushed in followed closely by two boys. The eldest, Mycroft, stood at 14, while the youngest or soon to be middle child, Sherlock, stood at 7 watching their mother scream as another contraption hit her. Another maid rushed over to the two boys pulling away from them far away from the scene while each protested.
Each boy sat on their bed listening to the wails of their mother continued throughout the night until all had gone quiet. For three minutes each boy heard nothing until a faint cry from a baby was heard as well as a sob from their mother. Both boys then quickly rushed to their parent's room only to find their mother in tears as she held a small baby in her arms. Their father stood over their mother kissing her lightly on the forehead as he looked down at the new member of the Holmes family. Sherlock's eyes quickly scanned the room as his elder brother walked towards his parents.
"Sherlock, come here and meet your baby sister." Mr. Holmes said sincerely in the kindest voice Sherlock has heard from him. Slowly Sherlock took small steps towards the bed until he was near Mycroft peering at the small infant in his mother's arms. The baby was small far smaller than a normal healthy baby, she breathed shallowly, most likely due to the premature birth. The baby shook from being cold although she was wrapped in two blankets and held closely by their mother. As he was about to proclaim is theory on the baby not being able to sustain life for a long time Mycroft hit him on the arm and gave a firm shake of the head, no doubt already coming to that conclusion.
"What shall she be called," Mycroft asked with a fake smile on his face.
"Cordelia," their mother answered smiling, "Cordelia Ann Holmes." Looking up to her boys as a few tears slipped from her eyes. "Would you like to hold her?" She asked Mycroft whose face quickly became fearful but nodded nether less. Carefully their father picked her up and gently placed her in Mycroft's arms instructing him how to hold her properly. Mycroft held her for a bit before he had had enough and asked his father to taker her back. Once in the baby was in the safety of his father's arms he quickly bid his mother and father night before turning in.
Sherlock made to follow before his mother called him. "Sherlock, don't you want to hold her too?"
"Do you think that wise, dear? He could possibly do damage to her." His father retorted looking at his wife as if she was not thinking clearly. Sherlock wanted to point out that the child was likely to die anyways do to her being premature so the possibility of him damaging her was insignificant.
"He'll be fine, come here Sherlock." Again Sherlock walked over to her and mimicked what Mycroft had done earlier. With a stern look Mr. Holmes placed the small infant in his son's arms. Sherlock stood there looking at the infant confusingly; it felt strange to have something so little with a heartbeat lying in his arms. As he was staring at her face her eyes opened and stared directly back at into Sherlock's own eyes. It was as if both were analyzing each other and as they stared at one another. Then with a satisfied sigh Cordelia closed her eyes and drifted off into content sleep. Unrecognizable to either parent Sherlock's lip pulled up in the corner, in a slight smile of satisfaction. In his head drawing the conclusion that he would make a good big brother, better then Mycroft would ever be.
When Sherlock was 12 their father passed away from cancer. Cordelia was 5 and with the death of their father somehow was able to bring the two brothers closer, she was the apple of her their eyes. Mycroft was off at university but would visit the family every two weeks. Even with the death of their father life seemed better for Sherlock, he would come home from school and Cordelia would be waiting in the parlor ready to hear about his day. He would tell her everything and she would listen eager to learn everything. Their mother would sit in her bedroom staring out the window or lying in bed staring at nothing, a bottle of scotch always close by.
Sherlock was in his second year at university when his mother committed suicide. Whatever happened in the house to lead up to their mother's suicide the Holmes brothers do not know. Both Mycroft and Sherlock tried to get Cordelia to tell them what had occurred but she would not speak. No matter what either did she would not utter a single word, she would just sit there staring, like their mother had done after the death of their father. After the funeral Mycroft decided that Cordelia would attend a boarding school to finish her education. Sherlock had out up an extreme fuss when told of where she would go, but with no financial resources coming in he was unable to care for her. So at 11 years old she was sent away trapped like a bird in a cage.
Authors note:
So this is just the beginning, tell me what you think if you would like. There will be more chapters to come!
SherAsh18!