Chapter 9: Redbeard,M.D.
"S'pose it's your turn then?"Greg gasped, turning to Mycroft. John look up nervously at Sherlock, who was pacing again, madly , thoughts racing. What sort of beautiful disaster was going on in the palace of his mind? John feared the falling of Pompeii, Troy,and Atlantis combined could come no where near the mark.
"What do you remember about the day of your brother's "accident"? About the day your mother was murdered, and after?" Greg continued.
Mycroft closed his eyes,as frightening images came back,
"Blast it, Mycroft! Why couldn't you be more devoted to exercise?!", his thoughts silently screamed at then there were no thoughts at all, the pounding of his heart in his head had drowned them out, as if the tempest had touched down in his blood, whilst he ran.
Little brother, only a child, a small, and scrawny, and genius-distracted one at that...Was trapped in a burning building.
"He's clever, he knows where to hide..."
When Mycroft got in he realized though, that the building hadn't been set on fire. It had caught on fire, whilst their intent was to burn...
He found his little brother, lying under a table he had crawled under when his torment had been completed...
"OH!"he cried, coming back from the memory, and standing up so fast,he knocked the table over, scattering papers everywhere. Sherlock immediately stooped mid-pace,and started gathering them. John joined him, so he could crawl close,and lay a hand over his shaking one. Met his gaze. These two had learned to speak without words, and he needed him to know that it was ok, that the past was over. That he was here now, no matter what happened through out all this, he was here with him, to stay. Sherlock looked up, eyes still red from crying, however he had tried to fight the tears. He smiled smugly,as if to reassure John ,who really wasn't the one who needed that now.
"Oh,dreadfully sorry, yes actually, sorry, just..he looked so,...he was...so ..."Mycroft was shaking by now. Sherlock and John stood the table upright again, and then Sherlock stood up till he and Mycroft were eye to eye.
"Stupid!Not breathing, the instructor taught you CPR!"he was cursing himself aloud now.
"No, fool!...Achh...he's so little ,and scrawny,and hurt... that might kill him...Oh, I don't know...Don't know..Sherlock!"
The little boy let out a tiny shriek that was muffled into a groan. He pointed a shaky hand to the ceiling, with the ciphen hose coming down from the air conditioning vents...The warehouse had been rigged into one giant gas chamber...
"The hose? I see it...Is that how they got this all over you,Sherlock?Its ok, your face and neck and hair aren't..."Mycroft couldn't recall what exactly it was that Sherlock had been. Had only remembered what it looked he wouldn't look at it..
"Let's get out of here. No, stop fighting! I know it hurts, it's ok...you're a tough little boy...its ok."
"MUM!"Sherlock screamed, voice almost like a toddler's ,in his fear..."Won't leave her, won't leave her!"
That's when Mycroft saw his mother's body...
Greg dropped his pencil. The Holmes brothers were still standing ,glaring at each covered his mouth in his hand, at the description Mycroft gave,unconciously, aloud. "Dear GOD!"he hissed.
Mycroft laid a hand on Sherlock's face. "I may have pulled him out of our living hell,...but I couldn't save my mother...There are no remains, so there won't be physical proof she is...I'm sure my brother can find some other proof, though..." He smiled at him,and Sherlock smiled back.
"As to how he woke up again,John, it was all Redbeard's doing. The poor little pooch could simply not accept that his little master was going to die." A hush fell over the room,as Mycroft remembered the last bit aloud.
"It's alright, old boy. Sherlock is just going to meet the angels...I'm sure he won't forget you."
The doctors had gone to pull the plug on that silver chord which held the raven-haired little angel in anchorage with the Earth.
"Maybe we'll sail across the sky to see him someday...old Red."
The doctor's wouldn't see Mycroft place the tiny puppy on his little master's chest. The creature began to whine,and give his little dog kisses to him,all over his nose, even on his eyelids,and his mouth.
"Not too much, you'll make his face sticky!"Mycroft scolded gently. "I might want to say goodbye too, leave me a spot, between his eyes."
Redbeard wouldn't allow it. Despite no medicial schooling, or any degrees, or even basic education being that he was,in fact, a very small, red dog, the creature ,in less than a minute, had treated the boy better than the burn unit's finest doctors.
"Mmmm...mmmycroft?" moaned the boy.
"Sherlock!"the older boy cried,and climbed in his bed, gathering up the child,and burying his face in the unruly shadow that was his hair, kissing his scalp more than once. The puppy yipped,and Sherlock's fingers found their way, on the one hand, to his faithful creature's tiny ears, and the other to his elder brother's hand.
"Where's Sherrinford?"
Mycroft drew back, looking the boy in the silver-green eyes...