Chapter Two

Surrey 1989

Sherlock runs into the library where Mycroft is attempting to read a book holding his favourite teddy bear and a couple of chess pieces. He stops right in front of his older brother. 'Myc. Myc. Myc.' Mycroft sighs. 'Mycwoft.'

'My name has an R in it Sherlock. Mycroft not Mycwoft.'

'Sorry Mycroft.' Mycroft smiles and puts down his book.

'Did you want something little brother?' Sherlock hold up the chess pieces.

'Can you teach me and Blobe?' Mycroft pretends to sigh and turns his head to hide a smile from the five year old. 'Mycroft, please.' Mycroft hold his hand out for the chess pieces and Sherlock tips them into his brother's hand. Mycroft stands and takes his brother's hand leading from the library to the nursery where the chessboard is set out minus the pieces that Sherlock and taken.

Two hours later, a knock sounds at the front door of the house but both the boys ignore it preferring to concentrate on their game. 'Master Mycroft?' A maid calls up the stairs. Mycroft looks at the door to the nursery. He gets up reluctantly and heads over to the door and out down the stairs. He spots a policeman standing in the entrance hall. He looks back at Sherlock lying on his front peering at the board.

'I won't be a minute Lockie. Don't move anything.' Sherlock rolls onto his back to look at the Mycroft walking out of the door. Sherlock stands and walks over to the door. He leans against the doorframe as he watches Mycroft descend the stairs and approach the maid and the policeman.

'Is something wrong officer?'

'It's about your parents.' The officer hesitates and Mycroft pales and glances up the stairs to the nursery door. Sherlock migrates from the doorway to the top of the stairs. He crouches looking through the bannisters.

'Yes?'

'Mycroft, may I call you Mycroft?' He nods. 'Your parents were involved in an incident.'

'What kind of incident?' the policeman hesitates again. 'Please, everyone says I'm mature for my age and… and I need to know.' The policeman kneels down to look Mycroft in the eye on his level. He glances up at the maid.

'It was a bomb.' The maid gasps and Mycroft looks at the policeman speechless.

'Myc?' Sherlock's voice floats down from the top of the stairs. Mycroft swallows a couple of times.

'Sherlock, go back to the game. I'll be up in a minute.' He keeps looking at the policeman. He senses that Sherlock doesn't move. 'Miss Holly, please keep my brother entertained.' The maid nods and walks up the stairs to Sherlock. She picks him up and carries him into the nursery closing the door behind them. Mycroft gestures behind him. The policeman follows Mycroft into the library.

'I must say you're taking this rather well.' Mycroft swallows.

'Were my parents the only victims?'

'No. There have been ten other deaths from the blast.'

'Did they suffer?'

'No.' Mycroft sighs with relief.

'I'm glad they didn't suffer. Do you know who planted the bomb?'

'The authorities aren't entirely sure.'

'But you have theories?' The officer scratches his head and looks around the library. 'You look like you need a drink.' Mycroft gestures to the decanters on the side table. 'Help yourself.'

'I can't I'm on duty.'

'You were sent to tell a twelve year old his parents are dead. I'm sure your superiors will allow a single drink.'

'Good point.' The police officer pours himself a brandy.

'We have theories, yes.'

'Please tell me.'

'A group called the IRA.' Mycroft nods thoughtfully. 'Something tells me that sometime in the near future you will be researching them.' Mycroft smiles weakly. The policeman stands after draining his brandy.

'Thank you for letting telling me officer, I know many adults would be reluctant to tell a twelve year old anything.' The officer takes a card out of his pocket and hands it to Mycroft. 'Detective Inspector Rupert Lestrade.'

'Call me if you just need to talk about anything. I have a son who's slightly older than you and another about your brother's age plus a daughter in between.'

'Thank you, I will. Let me show you out.' Mycroft leads DI Lestrade to the door and sees him out. As the door closes both the DI and Mycroft take a deep breath. Mycroft walks up the stairs and opens the nursery door. Sherlock wraps himself around his brother's leg.

'Myc, what's a bomb?' Mycroft unwinds his brother's arms from his leg and crouches down in front of him.

'Sherlock, our mother and father are dead.'

'I know. But what's a bomb?'

'Something that blows other things up.'

'Mummy and Father were blown up?' Sherlock's face falls as Mycroft nods. Mycroft wraps his arms around his little brother as the little boy starts to cry. After a few moments Sherlock pushes himself off Mycroft.

'Will we have to move?'

'I think so brother.'

'Will we stay together? I don't want be on my own.' Sherlock starts crying again.

'I hope so brother. I hope so.' Mycroft wraps his arms around his brother again and the little boy sobs into Mycroft's chest. Mycroft closes his eyes and rests his check on top of Sherlock's curls wishing he could just be a little boy and not have to worry about their future.