Disclaimer: This is not mine. The BBC Sherlock comes from the genius that is Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat and is based on the stories by Arthur Conan Doyle.
Violet Holmes was an early riser, she had been for as long as she could remember. As a girl she would get up with the sun and walk the grounds of her home in Switzerland revelling in the colours around her.
Mycroft Holmes rose even earlier, global catastrophes, sadly, did not respect his need for rest. It was not uncommon for him to be up at 2:00am with a mug of strong black coffee and his Blackberry in hand.
Sherlock Holmes didn't rise at all, this was purely because he did not sleep to start with. No, Sherlock preferred to take advantage of the peace that the dark brought to conduct his experiments without interruption.
This is why, when a large explosion; accompanied by the rather putrid smell of burning flesh and urine, resounded through the Holmes Estate at 4:00am nobody complained. Violet Holmes was already out the door for her morning walk and Mycroft was safely cosseted away in the library at the far end of the home. Sherlock was overjoyed that his theory had proven correct, though no-one knew which theory as no-one dared ask.
In fact it was only at 4:30 that an argument broke out. Sherlock had stepped into his shower prepared to wash god knows what off of his person only to find that his dear beloved brother had turned off the hot water.
"MYCROFT!" came the enraged yell from master Sherlocks en suite. This was promptly followed by thundering footsteps as the youngest Holmes raced towards the library.
The door flew open with a bang effectively destroying the quiet of Mycrofts sanctuary.
"What the HELL are you playing at?" the very air seemed to buzz around Sherlock as he towered over his brother in nothing but a towel.
"To what are you referring brother dear?" Mycroft enquired.
"THE WATER!" he was attempting to restrain his shivering, but damn it that water was cold!
"Could you, perhaps, be more specific" Mycroft continued innocently.
"Don't be dense Mycroft, it doesn't become you. You turned off the hot water"
"And you are angry because… what? I didn't tell you about it? Yes, it is rather annoying when one makes himself uncomfortable, because ones very own brother neglects to tell him things isn't it?"
"You know if you had go off your arse, Fatcroft, and gone to identify the body, you would have known that it wasn't me!"
"Well excuse me for not wanting to see my dead brother laid out on a slab!" Mycroft ignored the weight jibe, in truth he was still kicking himself for being too much of a coward to enter the mortuary.
"And put some clothes on, Sherlock, for Gods sake!"
"Why? This is my home and I can do what I like!"
"221B is your home little brother and while parading around in nothing but a towel might be acceptable there it most certainly is not in mummys home!"
"Not anymore it's not, thanks to the British Governments incompetency, I cannot return there until I do their jobs for them!" And with that Sherlock flounced out of the room.
Mycroft closed his book with a sigh. It was petty, he knew but he couldn't resist taking a little revenge on his brother for what he had put him through yesterday.
Lunch was served promptly at 13:00 and the Holmes family sat at their respective places. Violets portion twice the size of Sherlocks and Mycrofts twice the size of Violets.
"I intend to leave at 14:00, apparently I have a funeral to arrange." Stated Mycroft, "Out of curiosity whose body will we be burying?"
"Well Moriarty has to go somewhere"
"Absolutely not! I refuse to bury that man in the family plot!" exclaimed Mycroft and violet made a noise in agreement.
"He's dead, I don't suppose it matters where you bury him Mycroft, but John will notice an empty coffin. If it helps john is unaware that I even have a family plot, as are all my acquaintances."
"What do you plan to do Sherlock?"
"Well I'll need a new identity and passport and money of course. Then I intend to search for the rest of Moriartys men. I believe Germany or Switzerland would be a good place to start. Moriarty had a proclivity for dangling blatantly obvious in front of our eyes, he chose the name Rich Brooke which in German is Richenbach the case that made my name. The Richenbach Falls are, of course, in Switzerland. I would not but it past him to have some sort of base there."
"Very well I shall sort out your finances as well as your new papers, come and see me in a week." And with that Mycroft left the table pecking his mother on the check as he passed.
And so it was a week later that Sherlock found himself standing in Mycrofts office holding an A4 manila envelope containing his new life.
"Sherlock I.."
"Don't get emotional big brother, it makes you seem ordinary." Mycroft sighed and handed over a new iphone.
"It's the same contract as your old one, keep in touch." Sherlock simply nodded to his brother in thanks and swept from the room. He had one more stop to make before he left the country for who knows how long.
Sherlock stood in the shadows watching John Watson attempt to say goodbye, he had heard from Mycroft that he was seeing his therapist again. The sight of the once great army doctor restrain himself from saluting and limp away from Sherlocks 'grave' was almost too much for Sherlock. He wanted so desperately to call to John, to tell him that he was alive, that everything would be okay. But he couldn't. he watch from afar as John Watson regressed back into the shadow of a man he had been 18 months ago, before the whirlwind that was Sherlock Holmes. It was at that moment that Sherlock realised how truly lost he was without his blogger.
The End
A/N Thanks for those that have reviewed I don't plan on continuing this fic. However I may make another Sherlock one.
Miyako Toudaiji It's up to you how much Johnlock you read into the it but that last paragraph was for you.