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Even though the moon and stars were shining, Albert felt as if it was pitch black. His soul was restless and he couldn't sleep, but wandered like a ghost around the manor, wrapped in his morning gown, until at some point his legs took him to the door of William's room. There was light coming from the slightly open door. Albert hesitated for a moment, but then decided to knock.
- Come in, he heard William say monotonously.
- William..., said Albert and stepped inside, - you're still up.
- So are you, said William who was sitting at his desk writing something in the candlelight, but put his pen down.
There was a worried expression on Albert's pale face.
- William..., he said and walked to him quietly.
- I'm writing to Sherlock..., said William without looking at his brother, - when and where I want him to kill me. I'll take the letter to him.
Albert's attention was drawn to the gun on the table. For a moment he kept his eyes fixed on it, as though it could've just shot William suddenly, and then took his hand on his little brother's shoulder.
- I'll leave it for Sherlock to decide how he'll do it, William went on with a low voice, - even though I wish that he would just shoot me straight to the heart.
Albert felt like he could choke. He moved next to William's chair, squatted down and took William's hand.
- William...
- Have you ever placed a gun on your temple, Albert, William started with a dry voice and finally looked at him with an absentminded expression on his face, - and wished that your finger would just slip?
Albert held his breath and felt as though his insides had turned upside down. Yes, he knew very well what William spoke of, but couldn't make himself to say it. The words were stuck in his throat.
- I hate this world, said William.
- We have hated this world together, said Albert and squeezed his hand tenderly, - you, Louis and I. You weren't supposed to sacrifice yourself alone.
Albert knew that saying it was meaningless.
He straightened himself up and squeezed William's shoulders gently, taking his face close to his.
- Every murder you have committed is also my crime. The murders we have committed are our shared burden, not yours alone. Your sin is my sin. Please let me carry it.
- You and Louis must live, said William, - in the new world after me. We're almost at the end. You know what you have to do, Albert.
- ...Yes, nodded Albert.
- I'm sorry, I would like to be alone now, said William.
- Alright.
Reluctantly Albert walked to the door, trying to remain composed.
- Albert..., William said and turned just before he made it out the door.
- Yes?
- Thank you for being my brother.
Their eyes met and Albert felt his heart shatter into a thousand pieces when he saw how lifeless William's expression looked like.
The brown-haired man smiled melancholicly and closed the door. He stood still behind it for a moment and took a couple of deep breaths to remain calm, before he headed towards his own room, wandering like a living dead. The corridor seemed suddenly terribly narrow and agonising, as if the walls and the paintings hanging on them would have twisted into a swirling chaos and the floor had started to waver under him.
Suddenly a door opened. When Albert turned his head, he saw Louis' face in the candlelight. Only then he realised he was at his door.
- Albert, said Louis, - did you go to William's room?
- ...Yes.
- He's pushing us all away, Louis said sadly, - and is only thinking about his own death.
- Try to get some sleep, Louis, said Albert and held his hand, - We all still have things to do before the end...
- I think no one can sleep, said Louis, - I bet everyone else is just staring at the ceiling too.
- I'll go to my room now, Louis, said Albert with a dry voice, - ...good night.
He continued his journey towards his room, which seemed to take forever. He opened the door with shaky hands and closed it quickly behind him. Albert slumped to sit on the floor and tried to steady the rapid beating of his anguished heart. He felt as though the sharp pieces of his broken heart would have torn his chest open.
He tried to swallow his tears, but one by one they started to fall down his cheeks.
- I can't live..., he moaned, - William, I can't live without you...
Albert got up and, feeling powerless, made his way into his bed with heavy steps.
- I'm sorry, William... forgive me. I'll crumble without you...
He wrapped his arms around his pillow and pressed it against his chest. The darkness of the night covered his weakness.
- My soul will leave with you, William..., he whispered, - even though I stayed here, my soul will be with you...
**
Albert's world stopped after William's death, and unlike others, he could not see another way to take responsibility and atone than to be imprisoned into the Tower. William's passing had taken his ability to function. It had taken his soul.
One night, when he was sitting on his chair staring out the little window as the clock struck twelve, he thought he heard a knock on the door. At first Albert did not react to it. Maybe it had been just his imagination.
- Albert, a muffled voice could be heard behind the door.
The brown-haired man turned his gloomy face to the door. The voice was familiar. It was Mycroft.
- Albert, do you hear me?
He stood up and walked closer to the door.
- Mycroft...? What are you doing here? he asked and pressed his ear against the door.
- I came to see you.
Albert slumped to sit on the floor.
- You do know, that I wish to see no one, he said, - I must atone alone. And furthermore, I wouldn't like you to see me like this.
- I know, and I'll respect your wish, replied Mycroft, - that's why I thought that we could converse here through this door. Is it alright?
- ...Yes, Albert said, feeling a bit confused, but pleased at how considerate Mycroft was.
He could have gained access to anywhere, but instead that man was now willingly standing behind that old wooden door, because he didn't want him to come in. As busy man as Mycroft was, he surely had tons of other things he could be doing just now.
- How are you, Albert?
- Quite well.
They both knew it was a lie.
- I've missed you, said Mycroft.
- I've... missed you too, said Albert melancholicly, - I've read all your letters. I'm sorry that I haven't replied to them.
- It's alright, said Mycroft, - I understand.
- Thank you for writing to me everyday, and for sending Charlie to keep me company. I have no idea how I would cope without that pidgeon anymore.
Albert heard Mycroft move a bit and lean against the door.
- I'll keep writing to you, he said, - but I wanted to hear your voice... at least once in a while.
- I don't know what to say, Albert said, - I just sit here burning. I am still burning, Mycroft, because of my sins. I don't think it'll ever stop.
But Mycroft's voice felt like soothing balm to his anguished soul.
- I know, Mycroft said calmly, - but remember there are people who care about you. Louis is missing you, like everyone else. I see him often - since he got your position.
Albert felt he could choke. First he had driven William to his death and after that he had left Louis on his own. What kind of an older brother he was.
- Mycroft, he whispered and a tear fell down his cheek, - when I close my eyes I see them falling... William and your brother... and sometimes I dream that I run after them, jump off that bridge and never stop falling... until slowly I wake up to the feeling that Charlie is poking my arm with his little beak, and just before I am fully awake, I see you... and you catch me...
Albert felt a blush rising to his cheeks and his heart had started racing rapidly.
- Albert...
He heard how Mycroft sat down against the door.
- I'm forever grateful to your brother, said Albert sadly, - for the fact that he tried to save William, jumped after him and caught him... held him tight. I hope he didn't let go of him... until they had both drowned into the depths of Thames...
- What I know of my brother, started Mycroft, - I would say, that he wouldn't let go of William even in death. If he had decided to go with your brother, he would not let go.
Albert pressed his head against the door.
- I always thought that we would die together... William, Lotus and I, he said, - even though part of me I always knew that William would not allow it. Still, I kept thinking that I would rest with them... I was prepared for it...
- Albert...
- ...to give up everything... not William alone.
- Albert, listen to me...
- Even though I'm here, my soul...
- Albert, I know how much you're suffering and that's why I'm here, Mycroft said softly, - because I know that you're a much more fragile person than what you let people think.
Albert tried to concentrate his thoughts on Mycroft. He wondered if he was staring at the door with his dark eyes, yet now all he could observe was his soul.
- Think about how we used to drink tea together, started Mycroft, - I wish I could drink it with you now too. Assam milk tea. It helps when you're feeling sad or otherwise need to calm your mind.
- I don't remember we ever drank that.
- I've been drinking it lately.
Albert placed his hand against the door.
- Mycroft...
- I wish we could drink it together some time, said Mycroft, - It's a very comforting thought, isn't it?
- ...Yes, it is, Albert replied with a low voice.
- I'm sorry, but I must go, said Mycroft, - even though I would sit here with you until morning with pleasure. But duty calls.
- ...Thank you for coming, said Albert.
- I'll write to you again in the morning. Good night, Albert.
- Good night, Mycroft.
Albert heard how Mycroft got up, but did not leave right away. Instead he stood behind the door as if he was still willing to say something, but couldn't get it out of his mouth. In the end Mycroft said nothing, and Albert could hear his steps vanishing to the distance as he went.
Albert woke all night, his thoughts going around in circles. But whenever darkness seemed to engulf him completely, he tried to concentrate his thoughts on Mycroft and the conversation they just had. It warmed his heart and eased his pain.
Early in the morning, with the first light of the rising sun, Charley flew to him again. The letter he carried had only four words written in it:
"I love you, Albert."