Note from the author: Hello! This is a little Moriarty AU where Richard Brook is real, and basically becomes Moriarty. I got the idea when I was researching characteristics of serial killers. I play around with some of those characteristics and ideas and if you would like to know more or have me explain them, you can PM me or simply review the story. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. :) P.S. I do not own any of the BBC characters.
He could hear the older boys whispering behind his back, but he was not worried. His older brother Dave was there and he would not let anything happen to him.
"Go on! You have to go all the way to the edge, Richard. That was the deal." One boy reminded him impatiently.
The deal was that if he stood on the edge of the roof for a full minute without crying or falling off Dave would let him hang out with him and his friends.
It seemed easy enough to the seven year old. He was not afraid of heights, and his balance was decent enough, so he took the deal.
"I'm going. Don't rush me." He stammered before taking a few more steps and reaching the edge of the roof.
"Okay, start timing." He called out.
There was more whispering.
"How much longer, Dave?" Richard inquired after a few seconds passed.
"Dave?" Again, there was no reply.
His first thought was that they had left him there, standing on the roof all alone. But he could still hear them snickering. What were they waiting for?
Maybe they had not heard him, he thought. "David?"
All of the sudden the air was knocked out of his body as he was shoved forward.
"Nice one, Dave!" Someone laughed boisterously as the boy fell from the roof.
He could still hear them laughing despite his own cries for help. Even Dave was laughing at him.
When his body slammed into the pavement he expected to feel pain or at least to blackout, it was only a one-story house, so he doubted that he would actually die. However when he opened his eyes, he found the scene had changed almost completely.
This time Dave was the one stalking towards the edge of the roof. All the other boys were gone, and the brothers were both much older now.
Richard felt a surge of anger rush through his body at the sight of his brother, causing his jaw to clench.
He had betrayed him.
He had thrown him off a roof simply to impress his friends!
Richard slowly began to follow him.
Just as Dave reached the edge, Richard grabbed the collar of his shirt and forced him to face him.
"What are you doing, Richie?" His brother cried pathetically.
Richard's lips stretched into a dark, catlike smile. Dave stared up into his little brother's eyes, but there was nothing left there.
"I owe you a fall, brother."
"You're insane!" Dave sobbed.
"You're just getting that now?" He laughed in his brother's face, making him flinch and take another step back towards the edge.
Richard was now the only thing holding his bother on the roof. As soon as he released Dave, the gravity would do the rest of the work for him.
Dave would finally know how it felt to fall, and he would have his sweet revenge.
So he let go and watched him fall.
This time the building had many stories, too many to count.
It was what David Brook deserved.
A voice slowly began to pull him from the dark scene before him.
"Daddy! Daddy!" A high voice squealed in his ear.
Richard sighed tiredly and forced his eyes open. He had been napping on the couch and now his daughter was hovering over him, waiting patiently.
"I thought I told you not to wake daddy up?" Mrs. Brook called from the kitchen and walked into the room.
"I'm sorry, mummy." The little girl frowned.
"It's fine, princess." Richard yawned, moving into a sitting position and pulling his daughter into his lap. She giggled happily and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Dinner'll be ready soon, Rich." Mrs. Brook stated as she gave him a quick peck on the lips.
"Thank you, love." He replied causally, obviously uninterested in the preparation of the food.
He was always uninterested.
She thought nothing of it nowadays, but in the earlier years of their marriage it worried her to death.
He was better now, though.
Over the years, he had perfected his role as the loving husband and father.
"Oh, look!" She spoke up again, "It's that consulting detective from London. He's on the telly again."
"What detective?" He asked dully and rubbed his face with a free hand before glancing towards the screen.
"Sherlock Holmes, daddy!" His daughter explained, "He solves mysteries for fun with his friend. He is really smart."
Richard was not impressed at first, but the more he listened, the more it excited him.
The woman on the program talked about all of his cases and explained how he was able to solve each one with amazing speed.
Once the program was over, he rushed to his computer.
Sherlock's blog was utterly predictable from what he had deduced of the consultant. Dr. Watson's blog, on the other hand, was a completely different story. It had everything he wanted to know on it.
That man really was amazing like the telly said.
In fact, he was more than amazing.
He was brilliant.
Almost as brilliant as himself, he thought.
Both were stuck in this boring world, forced to live boring lives, but Sherlock had found a cure.
Richard continued his research for days without end.
His wife was worried because he refused to eat and had not come to bed in days. When she asked what he was doing, he told her that there was catastrophe at work.
All he knew was that he could not stop now, not when he was so close to a cure for this absolute torture that was his life.
Richard finally found someone like himself.
Someone he understood.
Someone who could help him.
A brother.
Days later when he finally went to sleep that same dream continued to haunt him.
Every night he would find himself being pushed off a roof like when he was seven, and each night he would return the favor to his brother.
The only difference now was that Dave was not the one he pushed.
Now it was Sherlock Holmes.
Thanks for reading! Sorry I've been away for so long. Another chapter of WYWTG is coming soon, I promise! I love you all. xoxox