This is a one-shot from my AU. In A Small Price to Pay for Her/The Beginnings of Us, I tell the story of the Holmes family, starting from Mummy and Daddy Holmes and onward. I tried to write this in a style that could be read on its own, so please enjoy!
A Mother's Love
A mother's heart is a patchwork of love. - Unknown
BOOM.
Linda Holmes froze as the walls of the house gently rumbled in response to the force of the small explosion outside in the backyard. With a grunt, Redbeard immediately awoke from a dead sleep and practically tripped over himself running to the back door, scratching and whining furiously against it. Automatically, she began to run through a checklist in her mind: the sound was loud enough to be heard, but not so dangerous that the windows blew out. Redbeard was obviously spooked, but calmed down almost as quickly as he started, sitting back to quietly observe the door. And since no neighbors had come running to complain (at least not yet), the explosion was probably contained within a small area.
Yes, she concluded internally. Sherlock was experimenting again.
For his ninth birthday, Sherlock's father, Chris, and his three uncles had built him a makeshift lab of sorts in the backyard of the Holmes house so he could have space to carry on his many different experiments. Quickly, the entire family had a system of gauging how serious a botched experiment could be: tiny popping sounds, not too good, but fixable. Great loud bubbling, might be something to worry about. Explosions like what just happened…bad.
Before she could make a move toward the door to investigate, it slammed open with a whoosh and she had to hold back a laugh at the sight before her.
Sherlock was completely covered from the top of his head to the tips of his toes in bright purple slime, large globs of it dripping from his fingers and dropping noisily onto the kitchen floor. Redbeard immediately tucked his tail between his legs and took to hiding behind Linda. She put a hand to her mouth to hide her smile as Sherlock sniffed and jutted his chin high.
"I miscalculated," he said simply with all of the dignity he could muster.
"Apparently."
His eyes narrowed to dangerous slits with each of Linda's stifled giggles.
"Is your lab all right?" she asked.
"It's fine."
"All right…" A snort escaped against her will and she quickly tried to get serious. "I'm sorry, darling, I just…" As Linda gave in to her fit of laughter, Sherlock crossed his arms, thankful that the slime's color hid the embarrassing shade of pink that his cheeks were turning.
"Yes, Mum, I'm fine. Thank you so much for asking. It's good to know I can always count on you to care."
"All right, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…here." Grabbing a kitchen towel, Linda brought him away from the doorway and to the sink to gently clean slime from around his eyes. "You know, if you're going to become a chemist one day, you're going to have to do a better job with your calculations."
"Gee, I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't told me that-ow, Mum!" His nose wrinkled as she scrubbed at a particularly stubborn glob. "For the love of-" he yanked himself away from her with a soft curse.
"Watch your mouth." At her snappy command, Sherlock immediately shut his mouth and glowered. "Come on, I'll hose you down outside."
"But-"
"If you think you're going to trail through my house and get your little experiment all over my carpets, you are sorely mistaken, young man. Outside."
With horribly loud stomps, Sherlock stormed outside and let Linda hose him down of all the goo despite his constant grumbling and complaining about her treatment toward him. He made sure to quickly disappear from her sight after she was finished, probably to avoid more scolding and embarrassment.
Back in the kitchen, with her laughter exhausted, she quietly chopped carrots for the pot of stew and heard Sherlock walk in and sit down at the table.
"Will you make me a sandwich?"
"You're a big boy, you can make it yourself."
"…But you cut the crusts." Sherlock may have acted like he was a grown man half the time, but there were times, like then, when it was apparent he was still very much her little boy. With a chuckle, she made him a ham and cheese sandwich and lovingly cut the crusts off. He muttered a thanks and pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket to look over his calculations for the experiment again. Curiosity got the better of her and she slyly looked over his shoulder.
"Oh, here's where you went wrong." It was so obvious to her; she almost wondered how Sherlock missed it in the first place.
"Wait…what…" He leaned over her finger to look and followed her explanation across the page of his notes. When she was done, he smacked himself in the forehead in exasperation. "Oh, stupid….STUPID. Obvious…"
"Well, now you know what happened." She went back to the chopping board full of carrots.
"Mummy, why did you quit teaching?" he asked after a few seconds.
"Because I wanted to be a stay at home mum."
"But why? You were a genius."
"Just because I became a mum doesn't mean I'm not still a genius," she said with a huff. "And I chose to be here because I wanted to take good care of you and your brother." Sherlock stared at her, obviously not understanding her reasoning behind giving up her former life of a well-known mathematical prodigy to become a ordinary full-time mum. "You know, to a lot of people, I gave up a lot," Setting the knife down, she turned to face him. "But in my opinion, I gained so much more being here to watch you both grow up. Sometimes, Sherlock, the thing that you want the most isn't out there in the world, but right here in your own home."
"So…you gave up a career in mathematics for…us?"
"Yes."
"And…you don't…miss it?" She sighed. In truth, there were times that she did miss being out in the academic world, teaching and coaching minds a lot like her own to go out and become new faces in the world of advanced mathematics. But when those pangs of longing came, she just had to look at her sons, and she would remember that the reward of her sacrifice greatly outweighed the cost.
"Not for one second." She walked to him and kissed his mop of curly dark hair. As she started to walk away, his arms quickly encircled her waist. He didn't speak, but he didn't need to; his grip and sigh of contentment was more than enough of a voice. After a few seconds, he released her and happily announced that he was going to get things together to try the experiment again tomorrow, taking off a full speed toward the stairs. With a shake of her head, she went back to the chopping board and continued her task, her heart close to bursting with affection for her ornery, borderline mad, yet oh so sweet baby boy...
Later in the evening, sixteen-year-old Mycroft made a rare appearance outside of the comfort of his bedroom.
"Where's Sherlock?" he asked Linda, who was lounging in Chris's favorite armchair and reading a rough draft of his latest idea for his first crime novel.
"I don't know; I haven't seen him since the explosion this afternoon."
"Explosion?"
She opened her mouth to explain, but per usual, he immediately made a noise of understanding.
"Oh, yes, the slime experiment again." It seemed the older that Mycroft got, the faster he got with his deductions, and she wondered what insignificantly ridiculous detail gave it away that time. She expected him to take his leave with some sarcastic remark about how useful her information was, but she was surprised to hear him sit down on the couch across from the chair. Looking up from Chris's manuscript, she saw her son looking at her with an extremely serious and thoughtful expression on his face.
"Mum," he started, frowning as he tried to think of what to say. "I know that…soon, I'll be leaving for university and…I just…I…" She patiently waited for him to finish. "I just want to say I'm sorry." She blinked.
"For what?"
"For not being a very good son these past few years ever since…" he trailed off, a distant look of sadness in his eyes as he reflected on the past, his pain still as raw and real as if it just happened yesterday. She swallowed and put the manuscript aside.
"Mike…Mycroft," she corrected softly, getting up to sit next to him on the couch. "Darling, I couldn't have asked for a better son than you." And she meant it. Even though the past few years with him had been one of the hardest trials she and Chris had to face as parents, she never once felt regret for calling Mycroft Holmes her firstborn son. "I am so proud to be your mother."
"You are?"
"Yes." Even though she knew in the back of her mind that it was probably a bad idea, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it affectionately. She half expected him to bolt, but was surprised when he tenderly squeezed back. "No matter what happens, no matter where you go or what you do...I will always love you...ALWAYS." The room fell into silence as he absorbed her words.
"And I'm proud to be your son," he finally murmured, smiling. Though Mycroft wasn't used to showing physical affection, he leaned and gently kissed his mother's cheek, quickly taking his leave before she could say anything. What he didn't see were the tears of absolute gratitude in her eyes at his sweet gesture. When it came to being the Holmes brothers' mother, it wasn't easy, but Linda was always grateful to whoever or whatever decided that she was good enough to raise the world's two most brilliant minds...
Because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't imagine what her life would've been like without them.
"Oh, it's good to be home." Linda looked up from her book to see Chris strolling into the bedroom, a smile of happiness gracing his face as he looked all around.
"How was the conference?"
"Dull, dry, boring." He eagerly sat down and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. "Four days without sleeping next to you was torture."
"Oh, you missed holding me?" she murmured romantically.
"I could barely sleep with so much silence." A painful smack hit his shoulder.
"I don't snore."
"Well...not loud, at least." Another smack and a glower met his statement.
"Keep it up and you'll spend one more night by yourself."
"Okay, I'll stop," he said with a chuckle. "So how was it being here with the boys by yourself?"
"Fine." She shrugged. "Sherlock experimented, it failed."
"How bad?"
"Purple slime."
"Well, that's a new one," Chris said, clearly impressed.
"Otherwise, they were quiet. But...at the same time, they both seemed... I don't know how to describe it..." So she just resorted to telling him about each encounter. Chris seemed very thoughtful as she finished. "I mean, isn't that a little strange and out of the blue to you?"
"A bit," he answered honestly.
"But...at the same time...I'm glad to know that they appreciate me."
"We all do." Gently, he cupped her cheek and kissed her again. "Sometimes, we don't take the time to really tell you thank you for everything you do for this family." She smiled. "You're an excellent mother, Linda."
"Well, I try..."
"And you succeed because you wield one of the most powerful forces on Earth. It's something that could cause a person to completely change their life, motivate them to be entirely selfess and giving and give birth to a degree of love that could tear down every wall and break every chain."
"Oh, really? What's that?" With a smile, Chris looked to the photograph on the bedside table of Sherlock and Mycroft from last Christmas
"You're the genius, darling. I'm sure you already know what I mean." Following his gaze, she smiled.
"I'm sure I do."
NOTE: I know Mothering Day has come and gone in the UK, but because I live in the states, I wanted to release a very special Mother's Day one-shot celebrating dearest Mummy Holmes and also, as a tribute to my own mother, who is the ultimate example of a hard-working, strong and loving mother. She's also one of my biggest inspirations, and is one of the reasons that I even started writing fanfiction. So, to all the mothers all over the world that are reading this, I just want to stop and tell you thank you for everything you do.
Happy Mother's Day.
GeorgyannWayson
