Thanks so much for the reviews and favorite/follows! Always encouraging to see people reading and enjoying. Here's Chapter 16. We get some Mycroft and Addie interaction because I feel like their relationship has been a bit underplayed. Hope you enjoy this brother/sister scene :)
Chapter 16
They had planned to go back to Baker Street but Addie was reluctant to let either of her brothers go. Mycroft suggested they go to his flat for the night since it was closer and there was room enough for all of them. The brothers hoped Addie would go to sleep, seeing as it was an emotionally exhausting day, but that wasn't the case.
Both brothers would have preferred her to sleep than to sit still staring at a wall expressionless all night. They both knew that everyone deals with grief differently and they too had gone through their stages much in the same way, but that didn't make it easier to watch. They vowed to sit with her in her time of need, but Sherlock, being Sherlock, got bored and took his leave to explore Mycroft's flat. Not that he was insensitive and uncaring, but because of his inability to sit still and process things like most people. Neither Mycroft nor Addie faulted him for that. So, Mycroft remained in the room acting as a silent support system as he perused the headline of the newspaper. He recognized when Addie shifted and brought her hand up to rub her eyes.
"My..?" she asked quietly.
Mycroft brought his eyes up to look at her expectantly.
"Do you…do you think…did I kill mum?"
Mycroft looked surprised but he guessed he should have expected this question sooner or later. He knew her tendency to blame herself for everything.
"Why would you think that?" he asked.
"It's just…I can't help thinking that…if I hadn't "died" she would have been stronger. She could have fought the pneumonia and she'd still be here," Addie said.
Mycroft wasn't sure what to say to that. There was some truth in her statement. Yes, their mother would have been stronger had Addie's "death" not happened, but there was no guarantee that her body would have fought off the disease any better.
"I doubt it Addie. Mummy was sick. She was old, and these things happen. There was no promise she would have gotten better. With or without you being alive and around," Mycroft reassured her.
Addie didn't answer and simply went back to staring at the wall.
"Did she, uh, say anything before she died? You know, about…?" Addie trailed off.
"If you mean did she say anything about you before she died, then yes. She never shut up about you. Went on and on about how proud she was of her baby girl and how special you were. Sherlock and I became quite frustrated at how you still managed to be the favorite even when you weren't alive anymore," Mycroft said.
Addie gave a wet chuckle and wiped her eyes again. "Yes, well, that is the benefit of being the baby, and the only girl. Plus I was always more well behaved," she teased.
"Don't you start you cheeky brat," Mycroft smirked.
Addie smirked back at him then focused on her hands in her lap. Mycroft, seeing her mood start to turn gloomy again, decided to try to help a bit.
"You know," he began. "I have something for you. Something I never thought I'd have the chance to give you."
Addie looked intrigued. Mycroft set down his paper and moved over to his desk drawers and started rummaging through them. He finally pulled out a small wooden box ornately decorated and looking extremely old. He brought it over to the couch and sat down beside her. Addie looked apprehensive and unsure so Mycroft held the box out and gave her a comforting look.
Addie took it carefully and ran her fingers over the lid. It looked almost antique and it was definitely well worn. Used by multiple owners, and quite frequently if the broken clasp on the front was anything to go by. The clasp was also glued on, meaning it was valuable to its owners, enough so that they would work to keep it functioning. There was also a small smudge of nail polish stained on the lid which-
Her deductions were cut off. "Addie, stop deducing it and open the box. I'm sure you'll find what's inside much more interesting," Mycroft spoke softly next to her.
She opened to box, which she observed to be a jewelry box, and saw a locket attached to a gold chain. The locket, like the box, was very old and worn, and also intricately designed, dating it back even further; possibly an heirloom.
Addie turned it over in her hands and started to examine it. She tried not to deduce it, knowing Mycroft would catch on, but she couldn't exactly turn it on and off. There was an inscription on the back that she recognized as the Holmes family motto: "trust, but in whom take care." What a suitable family motto. Trust few, if anyone at all.
She finally decided to open it instead of analyzing it to death. When she popped it open a small piece of folded paper fell out onto her lap. She set the locket aside and reached for the paper, carefully unfolding it. Her eyes widened when she saw a list of names dating back to the early 1800s all ending in the name "Holmes." The locket was definitely an heirloom and clearly belonged to many of her ancestors and relatives.
"It's been in the family for centuries, as I'm sure you've observed," Mycroft said. "This locket has been owned by nearly every female Holmes since it came into our dear ancestor Wilfreda Holmes' possession. She passed it on to the next living female Holmes, who in turn passed it on to the next, and so on and so forth, until it came to be in your hands right now."
Addie scanned the list, most people she'd never heard of, or only heard in passing from boring old stories she'd been forced to listen to as a child when her father thought she needed a better reminder of where she came from and what her purpose was in life. She recognized the names of her great-grandmother and her grandmother, then her breath caught in her throat and her vision blurred when she saw her mother's name neatly printed at the bottom of the paper. She ran her fingers over it fondly and smiled to herself.
"It's yours now, little sister. Mother planned to give it to you when she passed. She never expected…well none of us really expected, that you'd be the one to pass first. She gave it to me in hopes that I would keep it safe. She said it would belong to nobody if it didn't belong to you," Mycroft told her.
Addie's eyes were teary as she looked at her mother's neat handwriting once again. She picked up the locket and looked it over. The Holmes family crest was printed on the inside and the name "Holmes" was written opposite, where the paper had fallen from. She cupped the locket in her hands and clutched it to her chest, hoping to feel any ounce of her mother that might still be residing within it. Just the idea that her mother owned it made her feel more connected to her. She closed her eyes and let the tears fall as she ran her hands over it repeatedly.
Mycroft spoke softly next to her and moved closer so his arm was touching hers, offering her the physical comfort he knew she needed. "All that's left is to add your own name. Then it will officially be yours."
Addie laid her head on Mycroft's shoulder as her tears fell freely once again. He brought his arm around her and pulled her closer to him. It was his turn to be the big brother now.
"I miss her terribly, Mykie. I shouldn't have stayed away so long. But, I had to…but I should have at least…I just wish none of this had ever happened! Maybe if I'd never "died" she'd still be here today and given me this locket herself."
"There's no point focusing on the past. It will only bring heartbreak and anger. There was nothing anyone could have or should have done. It happened and now we must move on and keep our spirits up," Mycroft said. "What would mummy say if she were here now looking at our glum faces?"
Addie smiled and chuckled, "She'd say we look like lost puppies wallowing in the rain. Then she'd tell us to think of something cheerful to bring our spirits up."
"Right you are, dear. Spot on," Mycroft smiled at her. "So then, what is it?"
"What is what?" Addie asked.
"What's the cheerful thought you'd bring to mind?" Mycroft asked.
"Well, the most current one would have to be the day I came back. When we were all reunited in your office."
"When you were furiously yelling and cursing at us? I wouldn't have thought that a very nice moment at all," Mycroft replied.
"Yeah, that's true. But we were together. And we were family again. The bickering just made it more realistic that it truly was a Holmes family moment." They both laughed at that.
"What about you Mykie? What's your cheerful thought?" Addie asked.
"Sherlock wanting to be a pirate when he was four. Then him resigning his post after he poked himself in the eye with his toy sword and realized that being on a ship all day and night would drive him insane."
Addie laughed out loud at the image of four-year-old Sherlock waving around a pirate sword then attempting to sit still in a "ship" for longer than 10 minutes. "Isn't that a bit sadistic? Getting your good memory from Sherlock's pain and failure?" she teased.
"I don't see how it's any different than getting your happy memory from yelling and cursing your brothers," Mycroft replied cheekily.
"Touché, big brother," she smiled.
"Besides," Mycroft said. "It was one of the rare times he indulged in childhood fantasies and playing pretend. Even if it didn't last long, it was still there."
Addie smiled slyly and gave him a sideways glance. "Getting sentimental in your old age, huh?"
"Oh shut up you!" Mycroft teased.
Addie suddenly found a pen in her hand and the paper from the locket in her lap. She looked up at Mycroft and he gave her an encouraging smile.
She wrote neatly and carefully under her mother's; the name Adelaide Holmes now added amongst the great women of their family. It was officially hers and she'd wear it with pride.
Mycroft took the locket from her and put it around her neck. It settled like a familiar weight against her chest and right over her heart where it belonged, a little piece of her mother to carry around with her always.
"It suits you perfectly, love," Mycroft said softly as he kissed her forehead and went to go make tea.