Brother Dearest

'Brother… it's been two years since you passed away and I have yet to tell myself to stop writing to you, every day I place these silly letters on your grave only to return the next day and find them gone… perhaps the wind blew them away… or perhaps someone snatched the letters, it doesn't really matter, you can't read them anyway… Still I convince myself everyday that I should write to you because of…. 'Him' he said it might help.

Yes, indeed… I have changed a lot since you had left us; I'm not sure how it happened…. It's been raining a lot as well, every night I could hear the endless drops of rain tapping on my windows, on the roof, and on the grounds of London. Everyone… They're still grieving over you; they still hold on to the fake hope, the voice in the back of their heads that tells them you're still alive and one day you'd return to them.

I'm writing this letter to you from the uncomfortable hospital seat that I've been sitting on for a few days now… four days to be precise. Why? Because of 'him' that foolish man who you've been working with for Five years now, he had to risk his life to save mine…

'We already lost a Holmes, no way in hell we're going to lose the other' were the words he said to me, can you honestly believe that for once in my life… I froze, I couldn't move, I couldn't speak… I was… worried… I was scared… I… cared…

Funny isn't it? One day it might be the death of me like it was the death of you and possibly the death of my silver haired savior. I watch the people every day; they hurry to the Inspector's side as if they fear his heart would stop beating any second… ironic, I fear the same thing. That is why I have not left for four days now, unless of course work calls. These people pass me by as if I don't exist, and I'm thankful for that, they didn't bother to ask about who I was or what's my connection to the Inspector even though he had held me as the bullet struck his body. Perhaps Lestrade was a good man that would take a bullet for a stranger and that's why they never asked…

Why doesn't he open his eyes? Brother dearest… could it be that we have mistreated the Detective Inspector for all of these years? Why was he silent? He had put up with your foolishness and my orders with no complains…. Why…. Do I feel so guilty? Brother help me… I don't want to care. It's such a disgusting hurtful feeling! I'm restless because I'm afraid the moment I close my eyes… his will open, or worst, I'm afraid I will miss the dropping of his pulse. How does one die in his sleep? Surely it's not painful but what do they feel? When their soul leaves their tortured bodies? I don't want to think of such things right now but I find that misery is all that I could think about, my 'mind palace' as you call it has turned into something horrific, something I don't recognize… I'm so tired… I just wish to rest…. Even if it's just for thirty minutes. I just want to stop my mind from thinking.

Brother dearest, I never heard my heart beating so loudly before, so clearly I could hear it in the back of my head when his heart almost stopped beating! It took everything I had to keep my usual calm face bit brother…. I was screaming from the inside. I'm so tired of not being able to voice my pain, yet I couldn't bring myself to speak. To… To say I'm sorry for everything you and I have done to the poor man whose heart almost failed him. I had to leave the room and let the doctors do their job… Another restless night. I wish you were here to occupy my thoughts with your childish behavior and your foolishness.

My mind was screaming at me now, it was telling me that this was my fault, that it should be me on the edge of death, and if it were me I don't think I'd fight it, I'd simply let death take me to the other side… maybe we'd meet again.

Excuse my writing dear brother… it seems that my hands are shaking right now and I can't stop them, it's silent. Everyone is waiting outside of the Detective Inspector's room, perhaps for the news that he's going to fight death for yet another day, or perhaps that he had passed away. Be kind to him if he did, I ask you for nothing else except to pay him back for his kindness. We were alone in this world, and we were blinded… we tried pushing away the ones that cared about us and look where that got us… we chose to be this way to protect ourselves but it seemed that this just endangered us and the ones who love us. You were better than me at this if I must admit, you accepted John and you let him into your life, you loved Mrs. Hudson whom I know loved you greatly as well, Lestrade respected you despite the many ways you've angered him, and many others who you became a part of their lives… While I caved myself inside darkened walls. They were so dark I hadn't noticed the man standing behind them… until now.

This woman had walked to me I could read the name carved into her badge. "Sally Donovan" and she had asked me who I was, and what I was doing here. "Mycroft Holmes" I answered her and… she slapped me, my cheek is still red and stinging.

"You Holmes bring nothing but trouble!" She yelled at me but I ignored her, I ignored her shouts, her insults, they didn't phase me, they didn't even hurt, to me she's a nobody, here today, gone perhaps in a few days. "Why would Lestrade even risk himself for the likes of you?! You're nothing but monsters! Emotionless beasts! Do you even care that he might die because of you?!"

I stayed silent, wasn't my presence here a sign of caring? It doesn't matter really because the doctor had walked out of the room causing everyone to fall into silence… can you imagine that I actually held my breath, brother? Can you imagine that I found it hard to swallow and that I had actually dropped the pen I was using to write this to you?

He asked for me to follow and I did, not missing the glare that the woman had shot me, I could see it oh so clearly in her eyes, her hate for you and I burning hotter than the flames of hell.

I stepped into the room and let out the breath I was holding. Nothing changed since I left; the Inspector was still lifeless on the bed, his heartbeat seemed steady now… he was still alive. I looked over at the doctor with a raised questioning eyebrow. "He called for you" I nodded and pulled a chair next to Lestrade's bed then I sat there silently. "If you need anything Mr. Holmes just call" Again I nodded and with that the doctor left and closed the door.

Sherlock… I had actually reached out… and ran my hand down his cheek…. And… he opened his eyes. I couldn't pull away, not because I didn't want to, nor was it because I was too scared to, it was because his hand covered mine, leaving it in place… and he smiled at me, it was like I had just drank poison that I poured by my own two hands and the pain was so beautiful. "Hi…" He said to me and suddenly he was looking surprised, as if he had made a mistake. "Sir" He added quickly.

"Please, call me Mycroft, you saved my life Inspector it's the least I owe you" I brushed the tip of my finger gently on his cheek and he let out a sigh then his eyes were closing again. "Rest, you're going to hurt yourself if you waste energy"

"I've rested for long enough Mr. Holmes, are you alright?" He opened his eyes half way and looked at me.

I shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be? I'm unharmed thanks to you"

Brother…. My heart was jumping; he took my hand and tangled our fingers, my somewhat long fingers somehow fit perfectly in the space between his own. "I'm glad… I would have never forgave myself if something had happened to you Mycroft, I'm sure Sherlock would be very unpleased as well, I don't think I'd fancy being tortured by your little brother in the afterlife" He laughed so softly that I hadn't noticed the twitch in my lips…I was… smiling.

"Do you wish to see your team? They've been worried about you; I can step out and let you talk to them"

He shook his head. "Stay, I don't want my team to see me like this, looking weak… helpless" His voice lowered and he seemed to disappear into another world, but he looked at me then. "But Mr. Holmes I'm sure you have more important things, England would fall without you"

Sherlock… I had chosen this man over the country itself when I denied leaving his side. "England will be fine without me for a day or two; besides, I've taken care of everything before I got here. Now tell me Gregory, are you hungry?"

Brother, I had found happiness with this man, yes… happiness. He became a part of my life, a part I'm actually proud of, a part that I didn't have to hide, or keep secret like everything else and I had realized that if I lost Greg then I'd lose part of myself, everyone noticed so, even John… but I had no intention of hiding it in the first place. I only wished that I made him feel as happy as he made me… Yes Sherlock, this is exactly what you think… I've fallen in love, and I'm sure you'd have noticed that half way through reading this letter, in that I bested you, for you had not the courage to tell John how you feel about him, while I get to hear the words from the Inspector every day and happily reply to them.

Brother dearest, this has to be the longest letter I have written to you yet. It's been three years now since you passed away, and I'm still leaving these letters on your grave… don't you think you've played for too long? It's time to come out of hiding, I'll be waiting for you at my office, Greg is working late so feel free to drop by and let me in on your disappearance plan… did you really think I was that stupid? To believe that you actually killed yourself? Sherlock, you're smarter than that and so am I. It's time to end this silly game. I'd love for you to see the new life I had made for myself, maybe for once I'd be a good brother and maybe for once I'd be someone you'd look up to.

-Mycroft. H'

Sherlock smiled to himself as he finished reading the letter, he folded the papers and placed them inside his coat. Maybe it was time to return now; it was time to give his good old brother a visit.