Chapter One: Colin
I have never kept a diary. As far as I know no one in my family has either. Not even Aunt Irene and she's crazy. Well, I say crazy…and maybe Uncle Shock, but his would be more on the lines of a scientific journal of his experiments…anyway, the point is that I'm not altogether sure what I'm actually supposed to write about. I know enough to know that a diary is supposed to be private but since I'm writing this for the express purpose of being read I don't think it's really a diary then. That fact would ensure that I wouldn't write anything at all personal, wouldn't it? Still…it's not like I have a choice about this.
Dr. Brandson wants to know about my childhood even though I'm still technically a child. I'm seventeen and in parts of the world that's considered an adult, though in others it's not. In my family? Uncle Shock is still considered a child. Strange that. So are Uncle Ian and Aunt Irene and those three are the crazy ones. Maybe there's something to that. Coleen and Ben and their spouses are still kids too even though they have kids of their own but Aunt Jo says that since she gave birth to Ben and Coleen she gets to think of them as children until the day she dies. My mother says the same about me. Still it seems only the crazy ones are truly considered children and I'm not one of the crazy ones…Colin is. And so are a few of the cousins.
Went off topic again. Stupid genetics. I'd apologize except that it wouldn't be sincere anyway. A Holmes only ever apologizes sincerely to family. Besides this journal, diary, whatever is supposed to be about me and I go off topic a lot, especially when I'm writing. Why do you think Colin proofreads all my assignments even though he is younger than me and not quite as smart?
Anyway, my childhood. It was splendid. Truly. Loved every minute of it. Honestly. Okay so maybe not every minute of it. Let me start at the beginning. That's usually a good place to start, right? That's what my father always tells me anyway. 'Never start in the middle of a story, Bea. You'll never understand the ending if you do that.'
To the beginning then…I was born. I don't remember that part though. I personally think that's a good thing though, don't you? I mean imagine if your very first memory is of being born. That's enough to traumatize a child for eternity. So I'll start this stupid journal, diary, whatever with my first actual memory. I know other stuff happened before that but I don't remember it so it doesn't matter, right? And it wasn't anything very important or the 'rents would have told me about it long before now…I think there was a trip to Antarctica in there or maybe it was Australia…somewhere starting with an A anyway.
My very first clear memory is of Colin. I knew other things of course and back then I'm sure I had other memories. I knew who my mother was and my father too, imagine that. I knew Uncle John and Uncle Shock and the rest of the family but this is the first clear memory I have of my own and not something I've been told by the…we'll call them all the adults for ease of reference.
I was three years and one month old. Colin was one year and two months old. Mummy had told me that Uncle John and Uncle Shock were coming by to introduce me to someone important. I'm not sure who I thought they were bringing now. I only remember that I was very excited because they had been gone for a long time. It was actually only two weeks but that's forever to a three year old.
They finally arrived and I raced out to greet them and came to an abrupt stop in the entry hall. There was a little boy clinging to my Uncle Shock. At first I was vastly irritated. Until this moment I had been the only child to be that welcomed by Uncle Shock. Sure the few cousins I had at the time adored him but he always seemed faintly uncomfortable with them. Yet, here was this little boy that I had never even met and he was being carried by my Uncle Shock.
Then he looked down at me from Uncle Shock's arms with Uncle John's eyes. And that was it. I fell in love with him before I knew his name or why he was with my beloved uncles. I didn't know who this little boy was but I knew he was mine. And I knew that Uncle Shock and Uncle John had brought him here just for me.
Even though I tried to evade her, I've already told you I don't like to be touched, haven't I? That's one of the reasons you're making me write this journal. There's no traumatic reason why it's something that just is. Just like Uncle Shock doesn't like to be touched except by me, Colin, Darby and of course, Uncle John. And yes even back then that was the case, I have been this way from infancy and so had Uncle Shock though it wasn't as noticeable with him as he'd had Uncle John for his whole life.
Back to the point though, Mummy took my hand, in spite of my squirming, and led me over to stand by Uncle Sherlock. "Bea, this is Colin," she told me gently and then watched my face. Her eyes were so very sad and worried. I didn't know why she would be sad. Didn't she see that my Uncles had known just what I needed and acquired it for me?
I only found out later that it was because Uncle John's sister had died and left poor Colin an orphan. Though Colin has never wanted pity for that. He says it gave him the coolest dads in the entire world. I'd have to agree with him. I adore Daddy but…Uncle John and Uncle Shock are so much cooler.
No one knows who Colin's biological dad is or was. Uncle John's sister, Harry, certainly wasn't telling even when she was alive. We still don't know and we don't care. I'm sure Daddy could have found out easily enough and I'm fairly sure Uncle Shock could figure it out if either of them cared to try but they don't and none of us has ever asked them to do so. Colin has family and that's all he needs. I did say Colin was mine, didn't I? I'll take care of him, same as I always have, and he doesn't need some sperm donor to give his life meaning. We know who he is and he knows who he is. He is Uncle John and Uncle Shock's son. He is my…Colin. What's more…he knows that too. He's never been in the least interested about that part of his past.
Right, off track again. Personally I think this stuff is important but I'm sure you disagree, Dr. Brandson. So, back to the memory.
I tilted my head to the side and stared up at the boy for a moment longer. I had always loved Uncle John's eyes. They told the entire story of his life if you knew how to look. And I knew how to look, even at three. Colin's eyes are exactly the same shade as Uncle John's. His story is written in his eyes too. They're quite a lot alike actually. Even Uncle Shock thinks so. It's why when pressed he admits that while he loves both of his children he is closer to Colin and Darby is closer to Uncle John. Darby is very much a Holmes, for all that she is adopted. "Mine?" I finally asked them all. I knew Uncle John would know what I meant. He's good at that. Must be all that exposure to Uncle Shock and Daddy. "He's for me, right?"
"Bea," my mother began with a note of exasperation in her voice but Uncle John cut her off with a shake of his head and a look that said more than words could and knelt in front of me. I know she was going to tell me that a person cannot be owned. I know that, you know. Doesn't stop Colin from being mine though. Uncle John understood that in a way that I don't think Mum did or does even now. She loves Daddy with everything she has and he feels the same for her but even they will admit that they don't have the same level of togetherness that Uncle John and Uncle Shock have. And that Colin and I have.
Uncle John's eyes had seemed sad that day. As though something bad had happened and he was only just realizing it. I now know that was exactly what was happening. But his hand on my shoulder was firm and warm, same as it always was. I didn't flinch away from Uncle John. Not that time. I usually did. Like I said, I don't like people touching me except for Colin of course. "Yes, Bea. Colin is for you. You need to be there for him and care for him and be his best friend." His voice was too rough and heartbroken. I didn't like him sounding like that. It was inherently wrong for Uncle John to sound like that. He's supposed to be cheerful or calm or spittingly angry at Uncle Shock. Those are Uncle John's three main emotions…or so I thought at the time. I was far too young to understand that sometimes all three of those were covers for horny. Still sad doesn't look right on Uncle John and I don't think it ever will.
Blast! Went off topic again. I'd have Colin read over this and fix it but...you want the unvarnished me and this is it. You'll just have to deal with the tangents. Besides, Colin likes them and even though Uncle Shock will huff and puff when he gets a look at this he'll enjoy it too. I'm not stupid. I know very well that you are going to call a meeting with my family. You will read the first few pages and then insist that you meet with the family to go over it all and point out all the things that make you think I need therapy. It won't work but it'll be enjoyable to watch nonetheless. Back on point.
I nodded seriously at Uncle John and looked up at the small boy again. "Like you and Uncle Shock," I observed solemnly. "I have to protect him and love him forever. I can do that. He's mine." It was simple to me. It was only fair that I have my own best friend, like Uncle John had Uncle Shock. They'd been together forever and I wanted that too. "Thank you," I told them courteously as Mummy had taught me, though I only ever made the effort for family...hmm, that's still true. "Come on, Colin. I'll show you my star maker. Daddy got it for me." I held up a hand my best friend imperiously, expecting him to come to me immediately.
Colin took his thumb out of his mouth and looked down at me, his hazel eyes suddenly lit with interest. "'Tars? Colin see 'tars?" He asked in his baby voice. I nodded happily, he wasn't nearly as obnoxious as Keegan, Sgt. Sally and Uncle Kill's son. Keegan is a year older than Colin and Colin was already speaking better than him. But then Keegan's daddy is an artist and taught Keegan how to draw before he could actually hold a pen so...we all have our strengths. "But…is day," he pointed towards the window. "No 'tars at day."
I smiled that wide, happy Holmes smile, the one only family ever actually sees. Colin was a beautifully smart baby. Perfect for my best friend. "I'll show you," I insisted. "It's a machine that makes stars on the ceiling. Just like the universe." I wasn't sure he knew what that was…then again I'm not sure I knew what that was at the time…but I wanted to share it with him anyway.
Those hazel eyes widened and he squirmed in Uncle Shock's hold with one hand reaching out to mine. "Weally?" He asked breathlessly. "Colin wanna see. Peas?" He turned those eyes on Uncle Shock. Colin really does have Uncle John's eyes because Uncle Shock folded at the first glance and set Colin on his feet beside me with his lips tilted in a smile that held smugness, sorrow and satisfaction all at once. He and Uncle John had known at once exactly what was going to happen when they brought Colin to me and he had been pleased to be proven right even though Uncle John's sister had to die for it to happen.
Colin grabbed my hand then and I froze. As I have told you before, normally I didn't like people touching me, even people I knew well. Just like Uncle Shock, he doesn't like for people to touch him either. There is no trauma associated with it, for either of us. I just don't like being touched. But then I thought about Uncle John. No matter what mood Uncle Shock is in Uncle John can touch him and not be rejected. To my knowledge Uncle Shock has never shaken Uncle John away. So that meant that it was okay for Colin to hold my hand, I decided. It was okay for Colin to hug me and kiss my cheek and stuff too. But only Colin. Always, only Colin. So I squeezed his little fingers and pulled him towards my lab without another thought to how strange it would seems to the 'rents. Though I'm sure Daddy understood far better than Mummy. Daddy had been dealing with SherlocknJohn for years and knew far more about them than I'm sure they're comfortable with.
On a side note: I have reiterated numerous times that I do not like to be touched and yet you continue to do so. Please stop taking my elbow to lead me into your office or clasping my shoulder while we're talking or patting my arm. I do not like to be touched and you know this and yet you continue to force yourself into my personal space. I know you think that I need to become comfortable with other people touching me but I see no need to even try to go against what I feel. Uncle Shock gets by just fine without allowing anyone to touch him that he doesn't want. I am perfectly aware that others may brush me in a crowd but that is completely different from having to put up with people invading my bubble and forcing their presence where it is not wanted.
Yes, I am ranting at you, Dr. Brandson. No, I will not apologize. I have just finished a session with you and I found it to be vastly boring and unhelpful. I thought therapy was supposed to be about me talking about my nonexistent problems but you spent the entire session scolding me for not making an effort on this stupid journal. Well, now I've made the effort and I can't wait to see your face when I turn it in next week. I doubt you'll even read this far before you call a meeting with my family. Good luck with that.
Anyway back on the topic as I only have a little bit left to say on the subject of this entry. Which is my first childhood memory.
So, that is my very first clear memory of life. It seems vastly appropriate to me that it is of my Colin. My dear sweet Colin. He's an idiot but he's my idiot so it's fine. Just like Uncle Shock says. Even though other cousins have come along and I love them all Colin is mine. Uncle John said so and Uncle John never lies.