When I woke up, John had already left to the surgery. I knew this because of a note he had slipped under the door. After reading it I left the small piece of paper on the beside table and slipped on my robe. I looked around the dark room, deciding to move over to the window and spread open the curtains. A fine layer of dust flew off of them and I sighed. Sure sign of someone who often has hang-overs; never wanting the light to come in in the morning and start up that lovely migraine they would soon be experiencing.
I looked outside and saw a car parked in front of the flat. The tinted windows intrigued me a bit, but I made myself let it go and head out to the kitchen for a cuppa and some toast. Luckily I had thought to put a robe on - seeing as I sleep nearly in the nude - because none other than Mycroft Holmes is waiting for me at the kitchen table, a cup already in his hand. Mrs. Hudson is with him and when she sees me she smiled and leaves, patting me on the arm on her way out. I return this smiling gesture and then go to sit with my brother, pouring my own cup before I spoke.
"Good morning, Mycroft," I said, sipping and looking at him over my cup. I leaned back, satisfied with the warm liquid, and wrinkled my nose. He smelled like rain. It was raining earlier, I remember waking up to the pitter-patter against the window.
"Stay," He said. This took me by surprise. If anything, Mycroft would find a way to make me stay, not ask. For him to do this was hard. He didn't do emotions much. I felt obliged to do just as he asked. As twins, we were without a doubt drawn to each other and when we were apart it was like ripping our souls apart. I shook my head sadly.
"I can't and you know that," I replied quietly. There was a lump in my throat that threatened to have me in tears, but I swallowed it faster than it could grown and took a deep breath. Mycroft just looked down.
"I can protect you, Myra." He made a good point, but I thought of something.
"Like you protected Sherlock?" I said. It was a low hit and I regretted saying it the very second it hit my lips. It was too late and now I had to watch my twin's already pale face drain of it's colour and all of the guilt and sadness wash over his features. Everyone blamed him and he knew it. He felt it and it killed him inside; I could feel it.
"I'm so sorry, I-" I began but he put a hand up to stop my apologetic flow of words. I stared as he stood, collected his umbrella, and brushed off his suit.
"Fine, leave. Return to your solitary life in your silly apartment in your silly country," With that he turned on his heel and left me to hate myself.