Sherlock and Molly Holmes closed the door and carefully turned to lock at 221B Baker Street. Sherlock looked at his bride and slowly took off his suit jacket only then to find an envelope of fine stationery in the pocket. Scrawled on the front was his name in familiar script.

Molly looked at her husband of six hours and excused herself to change out of her wedding dress, a beautiful three-quarter length, ivory dress with yellow accents.

He opened the seal and began to read:

12 September, 2014

My dear brother,

It is said that letter writing has, indeed, become a lost art. Perhaps it has, perhaps it has not. A letter, however, is the best method to express to you what is in my own heart.

Sixth of January, 1976. Our father brought me to the hospital to visit Mummy and my newly born baby brother. My first memory of you is seeing Mummy holding you, a small pink bundle with dark hair. I was intrigued; I had never seen a baby that closely prior to this. Dad encouraged me to sit and transferred you to my arms from Mummy's. I was fascinated by your face. You had a perfect tiny face, you were definitely a Holmes. Tiny nose, Cupid's bow lips, all-in-all a perfect specimen of infantile humankind. I told our parents on that day that I would always care for you and take care of you. Given that you are alive, well, and not incarcerated tells me that I have, at least to a point, succeeded.

Your childhood was marked by being free and running through the meadows near our parents' home; then came your tumultuous school years and your foray into other activities. There are things that I helped you with that I have no wish to reiterate, times that left me thinking that I was going to lose my baby brother. I am happy to be able to write that my worst fears were not realized. What I did not know or even understand was your inexhaustible capability to love.

Earlier today I watched you pledge your life to another. I repeatedly tried to convince you that love, caring and sentiment are not advantageous, that you are better than it all. I am happy to report that I was incorrect. When you met her I thought she would be good for you but felt you shouldn't get too attached. My opinion began to change when you fooled the world; she was an ally that kept you alive and supported all those that thought you dead. Her strength astounded me. I realized that she was a good match for my headstrong, impulsive brother.

I have watched yours and Molly Hooper's love grow from barely tolerating each other to not wanting to live apart. How she tolerates you, brother, never mind loves you, is a mystery to us all. Her steadfast sentiment has made you stronger than I ever thought possible. On this, your wedding day, I offer you one piece of advice; don't destroy all the love you have for each other. It takes two for a successful relationship but only one to damage it beyond repair. Remember, I should know.

With that, I will leave you to your revelries.

With deep affection,

Mycroft

Sherlock smiled. He carefully folded the letter and replaced it carefully in its envelope. No matter whatever else gave them and the cards that they opened regarding their marriage this one alone was found among his papers and mementoes upon Sherlock's death. But now, in this time and in this place, Sherlock Holmes knew how his brother felt. He took Mycroft's words to heart. The marriage of Molly and Sherlock Holmes wasn't always smooth, but it was always full of love. Sherlock could always say that he learned it from his brother.