Do not lose hope, brother dear
Warnings: Implied drug abuse, don't read if it triggers you!
Auther's note: Yeah I should be studying, but what. Enjoy it.
"Sherlock, you are addicted to heroin, again." Mycroft said calmly. "I do not have an addiction!" Sherlock replied, his voice struggling to stay even, his body shaking. "Oh brother dear, look at yourself." The older Holmes let out a sigh: " Even these stupid ordinary people can see it."
And for once the younger one was silent. Of course, he realised that people could see it, but he didn't care. He nothing mattered to him since he defeated Moriarty, since... "May I borrow your phone?" Mycroft asked out of blue. Sherlock shrugged.
The older one picked the phone from the table. When he turned it on, he noticed three things. Firstly there was no pin code to protect the phone. Secondly photograph of John Watson was set up as wallpaper and lastly a strange clock was on the screen. Exactly 103 days 18 hours and 24 minutes and counting.
"What is it?" Mycroft asked. "That is a phone, brother. A device used to communicate with..." younger one replied with bored voice. "I know what a phone is." Mycroft snapped "What is this app?" "That... is nothing." Sherlock whispered, hiding his face into a couch.
"Well, let's play deductions, brother dear. You created this app. There is a photo of John in the background, you've been doing drugs again. You don't care about anything particularly about yourself. The date comes back to tha day you have defeated Moriarty, but that was also a day John's daughter was born. And that is the day you've seen John for the last time. Conclusion? You miss John." Mycroft finished his speech and waited for Sherlock's response.
But Sherlock was silent. "What is it, brother?" Mycroft asked softly. Sherlock slowly raised his head. Mycroft was stunned, he couldn't believe his eyes. Sherlock's eyes
were wet and glassy. There was a single tear running down his cheek.
And then something really unexpected happened. Mycroft sat down beside his brother and put his arms around his little brother. Sherlock laid his head on Mycroft's shoulder and sobbed. Mycroft lightly patted Sherlock's back. "Oh my little brother." Mycroft whispered into Sherlco dark locks. " You have gotten attached, didn't you?"
"I... I didn't want to..." Sherlock admitted. "It... he just appeared here and... and then I was already in love with him." He shook his head. "But I always knew that... that it would never happen. He made it clear about thousands times. How... how could he like me that way, when he told everyone that he is straight."
Mycroft stroked Sherlock's hair. "What did I tell you about people's opinions on themselves?" Sherlock cleared his throat and straightened himself. His eyes were still reddish. "That it is never accurate." Sherlock whispered. "And?" Older Holmes asked. "And one should never believe it. And I didn't. But he is married now, has a daughter."
Mycroft felt that Sherlock wasn't finished yet, so he didn't say anything. And indeed Sherlock said: "I love him, Myc. But he has his own life and doesn't want me in it. Heck he didn't contacted me for months." Sherlock put his face into his arms.
"But neither did you." Mycroft pointed out. "How could I?" Sherlock asked. "How could I he has a child, a daughter. I could not jeopardize it, by being in his life. Everytime I was close to someone the have been hurt. I couldn't bear if John was hurt once again because of me."
„So What? Are you planning on being high for the rest of your life? And hoping that one day you will end it by overdosing yourself? Have you thought about people who care about you? Mummy? Daddy? Me?" Mycroft inquired. „You care about me?" Sherlock wondered. „Of course I do. You are my brother and I wouldn't change you even if I could."
And for a second time there were tears in Sherlock eyes. „I don't know what to do." he admitted. Mycroft said: „Sleep, clear your head. Be clean. Eat. And we will think about something. Do not worry, brother dear."
Sherlock nodded and embraced Mycroft once more. Sherlock's sobs became more quite and then he fell asleep. Mycroft laid him on the couch and put a blanket around him. „Sleep well, little brother."
Mycroft whispered and left.
When Sherlock woke up next day there was a breakfast on the table and a nite from Mycroft: Do not lose hope, brother dear.
So? Did you like it? Should I continue or leave it as one shot? Please review! Silvia