Three years previously
I blinked, looking up at the ceiling. This wasn't my home. I sat up, then decided against it. My head was throbbing painfully. What happened last night? I screwed up my face trying to remember.
"Morning!" Someone said, flinging open the curtains. I drew back giving a long groan. I struggled back into the darkness. Someone sat beside me. "Wake up!"
"No." I said, pulling the covers of the bed over my head.
"Father is coming over,"
I pulled it back and looked at the face of my brother. "All the more reason to not get up,"
"He wants to see you,"
"Well I don't want to see him."
"Well, what am I supposed to say to him? Sherlock can't come through, he spent all last night drinking and taking drugs-"
"I wasn't taking drugs,"
"Don't lie," Mycroft said idly. "Oh and by the way dad, Sherlock has been fired. Again."
"You don't need to say it like that," I muttered. "Not my fault she was cheating with the coffee boy,"
"Get up," Mycroft ordered. "And get changed, you look like a wreck."
"And you look like a prat," I sneered. "I think I win," Mycroft sighed and sat on my bed. I moaned. "What now?"
"Sherlock, you know I worry,"
"You really don't,"
"Shut up,"
"See?"
"Sherlock,"
"What?"
"I do worry about you," Mycroft said. "This is not the way I want you to live your life. You could do so much more,"
"Are you gonna chat all morning or are you going to let me get ready?" I asked.
Mycroft said nothing. He bit his lips. "Very well," He said. "Might I request you get rid of her," He nodded towards the sleeping Marie beside me. I looked at her with a little distaste.
"Whatever," I muttered, pulling the blankets over my head. I heard Mycroft sigh, then with one quick movement, he tore the blanket off, leaving me shivering on the bed. Marie still slept on. I sat up. "Do you mind?" I asked.
"My house, my rules,"
"Erm… Mum's house, your wife's rules," I retorted.
"Sherlock!"
"I'm up already!"
"No, you're not,"
"No, I'm not,"
"Sherlock!"
"Mycroft! See! I can be annoying too!"
He sighed again then left. I leapt out of bed and grabbed the blanket, pulling it over me. Damn. Now it was all cold and it didn't feel right. I squirmed for a moment trying to find some heat, then gave up and got up.
….
Dad was a portly fellow with sharp features that had declined over the years. He sat watching the television curiously. His… Bitch as I had come to know her was sitting opposite him. He was transfixed on that Fiona… Person… I don't know her name.
"It's just the news dad," I said, sitting down on one of the seats. He turned to me with his sharp eyes. I looked away, knowing what I had caused. "Sorry," I muttered.
"So you should be," His bitch said.
"You have no right to speak to me," I said.
"Sherlock," She smiled. "Don't be so mean,"
I ignored her. "What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Can I not visit my son?" Father asked.
"If you wanted to see us why couldn't you have invited us to yours?" I asked.
"I was rather hoping you wouldn't be here," Father said quietly.
"Ditto, dad," I said. Mycroft entered the room and sat comfortably on the armchairs. "Where's mum?" I asked.
"Out," Mycroft replied.
"And you didn't mention this because…?"
"Sherlock, you should have worked it out on your own," Mycroft replied.
I sighed kicking the legs of the coffee table. I hate it when they refer to me as the stupid one of the family. The Bitch had gotten a new tan. She looked stupider than usual but dad looked content to be at her side. She had been sleeping around again. I dared not say a word. We sat in uneasy silence for a few minutes. I sighed loudly.
"That's it!" I cried. "I'm going out!" I grabbed my coat, which Mycroft must have put up after I stumbled into the house after 2 in the morning with Marie.
"What about…?" Mycroft indicated to the room where she slept.
"Oh… Um…" I went back into the room and slipped a quick note under her fingers. I returned after a few minutes. "Taken care of," I said.
"Is it that Marie?" Father asked.
I bit my lip, saying nothing. I grabbed my scarf and left.
Stupid cunts.