Author's Note: This is a prequel to my story Family Is Forever. The formatting is going to be sort of a twist on A Fool's Hope's the Power of the Pen format, featuring excerpts from the correspondence and journals of Mycroft, Sherlock, and their sister Rose who is my own creation as well as possibly a few other snippets of their lives before Family Is Forever. I'm not sure exactly how long this will run though I do have a sequence of events somewhat thought out.
Chapter 1
The rain had nearly stopped. Only a few droplets now struck the window of the train as it sped across the countryside on its way from Yorkshire. Inside the train, a young man of about seventeen sat curled up in one of the compartments, his keen gray eyes lazily watching the sun struggle to find a chink in the clouds above.
It felt good to be going home – and away from his Aunt Milacynthia and Cousin Hubert! He could tolerate his aunt since being male, it was a simple matter to excuse himself from her presence, but he felt sorry for Emiline and Rose who were constantly being forced to spend time in senseless conversation with her. However it was his cousin Hubert that he could not stand!
If only he were Cyril's age, maybe the men would include him their activities more often, but unfortunately fate had seen fit to make him and Hubert only a few weeks apart, leading the adults to form the natural but erroneous assumption that they would wish to spend time together. What the adults failed to realize was that similarity of physical age did not necessarily imply similarity of mental age, and how could he be expected to find enjoyment in the company of someone who was at the very least three years behind him in intellect? Plus Hubert had no character whatsoever which meant that he couldn't even derive a little pleasure from tormenting him.
Oh, well, the dreaded visit was over for the year and by tomorrow he would be back in his own room with his books, chemistry set, and violin, with the visit being just an unpleasant memory. He sighed contentedly and closed his eyes intending to catch a bit of a nap before the train reached the next station.
Suddenly he was thrown from the seat and everything went black as his head struck the floor.
Telegram received by Mr. Mycroft Holmes:
MR HOLMES STOP WE REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT AN ACCIDENT OCCURRED EIGHT MILES FROM OUR LONDON STATION STOP MR AND MRS SIGERSON HOLMES KILLED ALONG WITH CHILDREN EMILINE AND CYRIL STOP YOUR SIBLINGS SHERLOCK AND ROSE AWAITING YOU AT CHARING CROSS HOSPITAL STOP PLEASE ACCEPT OUR CONDOLENCES STOP MR AITKEN PRESIDENT LONDON LINE FULL STOP
Excerpt from the Journal of Sherlock Andrew Holmes:
May 11th, 1874 10:35 PM
Mother always says that writing makes things seem clearer. I am not sure that I want this to become clearer, because that might mean that I would have to accept it and I am not for certain that that is something I am ready to do or may ever be ready to do. Still I must do something to occupy myself, or I may start crying again if I even have any tears left.
They are dead, Mother, Father, Cyril, and Emiline. I never even got to say good-bye. The train wreck happened to fast and then I wasn't allowed to see their bodies. Yet maybe that is for the best, since I know that I would have broken down in front of everyone.
As it is the only one who has seen my cry so far has been Rose. At least she survived. If she hadn't, I am very certain that I would not what to either. Even so the doctors are uncertain if she will ever walk without a limp again. Why was I the only one to escape without injury? Oh, God, why did you allow this to happen?! *The rest of the page is smeared and bubbled from becoming wet.*
Excerpt from the Diary of Rose Martha Holmes:
May 12th, 1874
Isn't it strange how quickly life can change? It is hard to believe that only yesterday morning I was sitting on a train, bored out of my mind and now I am sitting in a hospital bed with my left leg in a cast so heavy that I can scarcely move it. It itches terribly, and the medicine they are giving me for the pain makes me so dreadfully drowsy, but I must write to ease the pain in my heart even as the thought of seeing this terrible thing set down in black and white makes me want to curl up and cry until the world ends.
This is certainly the hardest thing I have ever had to write in this little book. The train I was riding in yesterday derailed just eight miles outside of London. Twenty-seven people were killed. Mother, Father, Cyril, and Emiline were in the dining car at the time. They must have been killed instantly because that was the car that received the worst of the damage. I truly believe that they are in a better place, and that there must have been some reason that I was spared if only I knew what it was. Still I wish I could have told them how much I love them one last time. *The word 'time' is smeared from where a tear has struck the page.*
No! I will not cry again. Sherlock spent the night at Mycroft's apartment; he may come back at any moment and I must be strong or he will feel worse than he already does. He held up fairly well until after the doctors had finished setting my leg and before Mycroft arrived, but as soon as we were alone, he just broke down. There wasn't much I could do for him other than hold him the way Mother did for me when my friend Mabel died last year, but I'd like to think that maybe I helped a little. I wish I could take all his grief and bare it for him, for it is dreadful to see him in so much pain. However, since that is not possible, all I can do is pray that the Lord will give him the strength to go on.
The funeral is on Saturday. I hope that I will at least be allowed to go to the service even if I can't go to the burial. I miss them already. *Another tear has struck the page.*
I hope you enjoyed the first chapter and please leave a review on the way out.
P.S. In case anyone was wondering, I hope to have the next chapter of Family Is Forever up within the next few days. The story you have just read will be updated as the mood strikes me.