*The Other Side*

By: WhiteGloves

When speaking of the other side we know its tragic.

This is Mycroft Holmes facing the real Omniscient one.

Enjoy Reading~


Mycroft's side.


Everything was snow white.

And Mycroft Holmes was there in the centre, wearing his favourite light grey Prince of Wales three piece suits and dark tie patterned with goose in flight, standing alone in the middle and staring ahead in the whiteness with eyebrows not bothering to be raised. One look at his surrounding and he knows exactly where he is as he deduced it. He barely blinked before knowing. It didn't take him long to find the exact spot where to gaze too. As if knowing, without actually verifying, that someone was looking back. He knows exactly who he was speaking to. And just like that he addressed the whiteness in the stillness and peace and began...

"You must've hated me." He said aloud in his crisp tone that almost sounded natural for him, but then he surprisingly found his black umbrella in his hands. "Or perhaps not. Otherwise I won't have my favourite necessities with me right now. That's thoughtful of you. And oh—there's silence. I'll have to thank you for that. Perhaps I'll like this side after all. I had built my own place of comfort, as I am sure you are aware, given who you are—the uh, the Diogenes Club? But all inside of it was a fib design to escape the noisy reality of terribly noisy people. Very terrible. You couldn't imagine... or could you? Even without them speaking I can see everything... imagine the noise in the silence? It's anguish, really. Come to think of it, you must've hated me back then, making me see and hear what you yourself can see and hear... so I can get used to this place, your type of... peace? But just the same...I know where I am. Bit obvious, really. All white, all alone, no sensations... and you."

He raised his umbrella and pointed at where he was looking.

"Though, I believe, those reasons have been with me ever since on that side. In any case—there's no point in complaining, really. I am hardly such a child to snivel and tell you how unfair this all is. I'm not exactly young but I assure you I am still as promising as the youth that I was. And full of potential, mind you. So it's really rather selfish of you to suddenly pull me out of your world I was ruling. Or more like, I was occupying temporarily. Well, now that I think about it, it really is temporary. I told the few people who cared to mention that it was a temporary job but they never believed me. It's disheartening, I tell you. Like telling them I wasn't the Queen. Or do you much prefer another reference?"

He flashed a smirk. A very Mycroft-ish smirk. And then he started walking forward—forward the endless purity with his umbrella now carried by his right shoulder with his eyes fixed on the black shoes he had just noticed. His favourite shoes too.

"Just so we're clear as to not insult my given intelligence or yours—" he started again, eyes still on his shoes, "but I do remember everything. And when I say everything you can trust me it is 'the' everything. If knowledge is a sin then I don't know what the sin is. Never mind that—I remember getting shot."

He looked up this time and the mask of indifference was ever plastered on his face.

"If I am accurate, which no doubt I am, there were two bullets that pierced my heart. At that very moment, I was struck by how it was amusing that the so called life-flashing-before your eyes came to me. It's not being overly sentimental, I can vouch memories flooding the brain had always been one of the wonders of the brain. I had one too many. You'd let me be vain with mine, wouldn't you?"

He raised an eyebrow but then, his eyes focused somewhere else as he leaned on his umbrella.

"I remember my brother shooting me."

It took awhile for silence to subside as Mycroft looked down at his hands holding his umbrella.

"Yes. My little brother killed me."

He brushed all airs as he started walking again and continued in a very casual tone—

"Not that it was surprising I always knew he would be the death of me, to be precise and honest about it. Given those flash-backs, most of it was about him. At any rate, why wouldn't it be? He had always been my constant concern. My ticking bomb. He knew that too, but it didn't stop him. I think he even mentioned if driving me crazy could kill me? Charming one, my baby brother. Death is but a trifle between us, having seen so many. Even causing ones... but at least I died before him and not the other way around. My heart wouldn't be able to... carry that had you taken him first. If I am being sentimental, it is because he is my only brother, you understand, of course? I was born that way. Nothing less and nothing more. It's as natural as me breathing. Not that I am any longer, mind you."

He stopped on his tracks, almost lost in thought. In the pitch white place, he was the true centre.

"How very ironic." He murmured after awhile, a wave of discomfort shaking his body. "I had always wished to go before him... but just the same always wished to be there to look after him. If my brother had only shown capabilities to look after himself I wouldn't be bothered, not at all... but... he went ahead and killed me. Stupid, really. Why did I let him?"

He flashed a dangerous look but it was all intended to himself.

And then he chuckled.

"Who is the real omniscient one between us?" he asked as he stared again with that humorous yet challenging look in his eyes, "As an all-knowing, per se, I know the next steps that will happen to my brother right after that little incident between us. You, know the beginning till the end. I know how it began... I have an accurate deduction of how it will end... but will you truly accept the accusation that you are the one weaving everything? Or just like me, you just watch things unfold before your eyes? Oh, yes, I don't just watch. Never mind, it's not hard to deduce for I for one knew my brother quite well. He wouldn't... mind. Me dying in his hands would be his greatest honour. Oh, you think I'm bluffing?"

Mycroft smiled.

"Then perhaps you are the one who do not know my brother best. No, he will have difficulties with the criminal case but nothing he cannot survive about. Then there's that problem with his drug habits—his little bit of sentiment for me would drive him right there— but I had already assigned his best friend to look after him and since he listens well, or argue well with the man that's all he needs. He does not need me, actually. Come to think of it. My passing would just mean another body he could whip at the morgue."

He raised his brows, looking a bit disappointed. "I should have offered my brain to the medical society for the improvement of that side. You know they need all the help they can get. In fact, I did."

He looked thoughtful for a second, before going back and staring ahead again, the smile on his face ever appearing.

"I could really care less of what's going to happen to the gap I left in my position. It's a rather large hole for just anyone to fill in and it'll take them thirty-nine people to do so. Half of that number goes solely to focusing on my brother, they don't need that. Basically that's how my life back there has evolved. Oh yes, I pretty am much satisfied. No, I don't need anything. I have my umbrella... unless you care to send me my sedan? It's rather tiring this... leg exercise, if you know what I mean. Exhaustion is mind over matter to me after all so... What's that?"

He frowned for a moment, and then shrugged. Before turning his back and walking, walking to that endless abyss and away... his back disappearing and merging with everything that is white.

Then there was that bark of a dog and Mycroft Holmes suddenly turned—and in the wisp of whiteness, he was gone.

At the same time a harsh voice shouting in that empty space—a very familiar voice—

"Try and die on me Mycroft and I'll kill you!" Sherlock Holmes threatened somewhere on the other side.


-TBC-

A/N: Mycroft's side of the world! The second side to be continued!

Whose side? Bit obvious, really ;p

Thanks for reading!