Epilogue

After the fall

Mycroft sits in his chair in the Diogenes Club. He closes his paper and steeples his fingers under his chin. He sighs deeply and leans back in his chair. He abandons all the papers on the table next to his chair, rises and swiftly leaves the club. He heads home and collapses at his table. His post box rattles jerking him out of his reverie. He listens carefully and glances at his pocket watch and the box rattles again. He glances up at the grandfather clock. He frowned in confusion; the post shouldn't be coming at this time. He stiffly regains his feet and ambles over to the door. Two letters were lying on the mat. He looks around for his servants. He picks both of the letters up and examines the handwriting. He doesn't recognise them but regardless he carries the two of them into the sitting room and sits in a comfy armchair. Placing the letters on a coffee table he pours himself a liberal amount of brandy. He opens the letters and chuckles. In the first letter he finds a picture of Irene dated after her supposed death in Karachi. Oh Rene! Clever Rene. Sherlock saved you after all did he but does he know why he did? Mycroft muses silently. He opens the letter.

'Mykey, I'm sure that you had worked out that I might had actually survived the terrorist cell in Pakistan and that Lockie did save me. I want to stay in contact on the back of the enclosed photo is my new number. Jimmy is in charge of delivering this to you my favourite big brother. Rene.' Mycroft chuckles at the simple letter from his only sister, secretly glad that she survived. He puts the photo and letter back into the envelope and turns his attention to the second one. He opens it and a small photo of Jim falls out onto the carpet. Mycroft leans forward and picks it up. On a whim, he turns to look at the back and he recognises the string of numbers written there as a telephone number. So you also survived Jim Jimmy Jim, why did you sell your little brother to that journalist? He reads the letter.

'Mykey, I guess you are probably trying to work out why I sold Lockie out the Riley woman.' Mycroft chuckles. 'I wanted to know whether he would stay loyal to the family name and whether the doctor would stay loyal. I know, I know, it's a rubbish reason. Whether you believe me or not I care about Lockie and I didn't actually want him to jump. I expected him to check my pulse but he didn't. I was getting bored. I wanted a way out of the criminal world and I couldn't see it any other way do it. I hoped that he would have had a plan to get around it. I'm sorry Mykey. I hope you want to stay in contact so I've enclosed my brand new number on a photo. I want you to have something of mine regardless of whether or not you want me. I love you Mykey and I want to be your little brother. Rene wanted me to send you her letter and I never did until now. I was reluctant. But here they both are.' Mycroft puts the photo and letter back into the envelope.

Behind him Mycroft hears a soft tread on the floorboards. 'Hello Lockie.' Sherlock walks into the room and collapses into a chair on the opposite side of the fire to Mycroft. He spots the opened envelopes on the coffee table in from of Mycroft. He narrows his eyes. He lunges forwards and snatches the letters. 'Yes Lockie you may read my mail.' Sherlock opens both of the envelopes into his lap. He picks up the photos of Irene and Jim.

'Irene and Moriarty, what? Why?' Sherlock stares at Mycroft. 'You betrayed me. You are in league with them. You work for my enemy.' Mycroft sigh

'He isn't you enemy Sherlock not really. Your real enemy died when you were a toddler.' Sherlock looks Mycroft critically. 'Read the letters. You felt that you had to save Irene didn't you. But you didn't fully understand why.' Sherlock reluctantly nods as he opens the letters.

Ten minutes later Sherlock lays down the letters. Mycroft takes them off his little brother. 'I don't understand.' Sherlock looks at his brother in confusion and loss

'Tell me about your dream, the one with the twins.'

'I'm a baby lying on the floor. A boy and girl are playing with me…' he trails off and looks at the photos in Mycroft's hand. 'A boy and a girl… twins.' He looks up at Mycroft standing and staring into the fire. 'Tell me.' He demands.

'When you were about six months old Mummy and Father had a massive argument. The result of which was divorce with the agreement of each parent was taking two children each. Father took the twins after a little discussion in which the three of us, myself, Irene and Jim, decided that Rene and Jimmy should stay together and you Sherlock would stay with me. Really, I was the one who decided that bit. Jim decided that he and Irene would go with Father. Mummy decreed that I should never tell you about them, but you remembered and it broke my heart every time I had to lie to you about them. The cakes Mummy makes every August are in remembrance of her lost children.'

'What happened to them?'

'Two years later father died having told them you, me and Mummy were dead.' Mycroft sits heavily in his chair. 'They went into care and were formally adopted on their thirteenth birthday to their respective guardians. Do you remember when you called me asking who that woman was?' Sherlock nods. 'That was me bumping into and talking to Irene. You went to Karachi to save her but you weren't quite sure why.' Sherlock nods again. 'You went because like any brother you wanted to protect your sister.'

'I want to meet them properly.' Mycroft smiles warmly at Sherlock.

'I want you to meet them properly, they want to meet you properly.'

Three months later, Berne Switzerland

Sherlock and Mycroft enter the lobby of a large hotel. Mycroft heads to the desk and Sherlock wonders over to the seating area. As Mycroft wait to be seen by the receptionists, he hears a shout from the main entrance. 'Mykey!' Mycroft turns in the direction of the shout. His eyes sparkle.

'Rene!' He strides over to her and the two of them embrace tightly. Sherlock watches from afar. Mycroft pulls back. 'Where's Jimmy?'

'Suite 702. We got here last week.' Mycroft takes her hand and leads her over to Sherlock.

'Come on Lock.' Sherlock follows the two of them into the lift and up to the seventh floor. Irene leads them out of the lift. Further along the corridor a door opens and Jim steps out. 'Jim Jimmy Jim.' Jim grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

'Mykey, my big brother.' Mycroft and Jim embrace. 'Rene.'

'Let's go inside and talk.' Jim leads them into the room. Sherlock enters last and nervously. Jim smiles warmly at him.

'Please Sherlock sit down.' Jim looks at him. Sherlock sits down on the sofa and Irene scoots over to him.

'Relax. We aren't going to hurt you.'

'Relax Lockie.' Jim remains standing.

'First things first Sherlock, I'm sorry. I know it's not enough but I am sorry to have put you through all that doubt and pain.' Mycroft watches Sherlock's face carefully.

'I know.' Sherlock whispers. He tentatively rises and looks at Jim. Jim opens his arms and Sherlock steps into them. Jim embraces his little brother for the first time in twenty years. Irene stands and takes both of the embracing brothers in her arms. She shots a significant look at Mycroft who also rises and takes all three of his siblings in his arms.

'Lockie, meet Rene and Jimmy; your missing siblings.' Mycroft says softly. The four of them separate and retakes their seats.

'Mummy should be here.' Sherlock remarks. Mycroft smirks. 'What?' A knock sounds at the door. Rene stands and opens the door.

'MUMMY!' She hugs her mother. Jim jumps over the back of his chair and lunches himself at his mother and sister. Mycroft and Sherlock look at each other smiling and then they turn to their mother and siblings.