Hi guys! This is my first sherlock fic!
And why did I wrote this story? Because this freaking sentence as been bothering me since the first time that Mycroft pronounced it... And don't get me wrong, in my point of view the dialogues between Sherlock and Mycroft are, without any doubt, the most well written that the world as ever seen, but sometimes, it just bothers me.
How would you know…
It seemed that that particular sentence had acquired a vast number of meanings in the last few years.
In all his life, he based his thoughts in suppositions. But this, this was entirely different from his reasoning. At a young age, he quickly understood that it was needed more than a simple sign to make assumptions and yet his own ego had won that particular battle, although he had that knowledge, the human in him would quickly do the mistake of assuming nothing and everything from a single trace.
The thing was, everyone thought that they were reasonable enough to make those same assumptions. Those people would not look for small clues present in almost everyone, they would disregard the strangest behaviour even it happened right in front of their noses and still they were convinced that they could read anyone like a book in a matter of seconds due to everything they thought they knew about a person, in most of the time justified by emotional empathy of all things.
But hearing that from John…
For the first time in his life, he felt truly lost. At the very least, his best friend should know better than anyone the repercussions of a commentary like that particular one would have to him. But those 4 silly little words had already been out in the open. From his friend, the one that had seen him grew into a more pleasant human being, even a more mature and comprehensive person. And yet he pronounced those same cursed words without a second though.
How…
And unlike the other times that, those words had not been pronounced by his brother, the one that he could, in a good day, consider somewhat of an equal. In Mycroft's case, those words only served to spite him to the highest level.
…would…
He was Sherlock Holmes for god´s sake. The ultimate humiliation, independent of the person who would brought it, would always be not knowing. That was a characteristic of the naïve and ignorant, the ones that could be actually happy in their meaningless little lives.
…you…
How could he, in any situation, be compared to them? It simply wasn't reasonable, thinking based on fallacies and stupid suppositions that he, was just like all the others. No, he was better in almost all the senses. He was… he was a god among a sea of idiocracy and stupidity.
…Know…
Yet he has completely aware that his knowledge would never be enough, that some things would be out of his reach for all his life. But this time, this time John could not be more wrong.
He knew his friend's reality a bit too well… He did know.
And this is it... Me making fun of the situation the best I am able too and of course the fact that Sherlock was found in Servia, of all the places in the world (hint for place of birth of another of on of my favourite fictional detectives)...
Review and maybe I will write some more...