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Sherlock held Mycroft's hand as they walked passed the gang of skinheads outside the cafe. The bookstore was only three more streets down.“Calm down Sherlock, they wouldn’t hurt you.” Mycroft still held his hand until they reached the large glass doors to the store.
Mycroft was tall for a ten year old boy. He pulled his sweater down as it began to ride up is protruding belly. Sherlock wiped the sweat off his palms from holding his brothers hand. “Mum said you only get two books” Mycroft pulled a wallet out of his breast pocket and handed Sherlock a tenner.
“Where can I find you after I’ve gotten my books?” Sherlock tucked the note away in his shorts. His frail frame made the money look like a small book in his pocket.
“I’ll be in the section against that wall for a little, but if I’m not there check the sweets shop across the way.” Sherlock nodded his head as he put his hands in pockets and marched towards the classics section.
He walked up and down the rows of books before he stumbled into the poetry section. He grabbed a book at random and began to read an entry. The poet wrote of trees swaying. And Sherlock smiles as he tapes his leg and swayed while reading the poem. He place the book under his arm and grabbed his beginners botany book.
They had been gone for only a few hours. When they arrived home they heard their father yelling from the kitchen. Mycroft looked down to Sherlock “Wait till he's done then you can see her.” He gave a small smile and took his book and licorice to his room.
Sherlock sat in study on the other side of the estate. His nose deep in the book as he sat cross legged on the floor with his jumper crumpled next to him. “Sherlock how many times have I told you, we have furniture for a reason take you book to the couch and don’t leave your jumper on the floor like that it will snag a stitch and ruin it!” Morlands voice was stern and a little to loud for the offence.
“Sorry father” Sherlock hung his head as he took his sweater to his room to hang up. He grabbed the poetry book and placed it behind his back as he crept into his parents room. “Mum? Are you alright?” Sherlock saw her laying on the bed her eyes sleepy. She looked at him and began to smile.
“My dear baby boy, did you get to get a book?” He ran over to her as she spread her arms for a hug. “Mmmmh you smell of sweets did Mycroft get his licorice?” Sherlock shook his head as she brushed his hair from his face.
“I got you something!” His whole face brighten as he pulled the book from behind his back. “It's a book of poems. Here I’ve marked the one that I like, but it's for you mum.” She took the book and read the poem aloud for both to hear. Sherlock watched her face while she read. A ray of light from the afternoon sun found its way across her face giving her eyes extra light. The green cracks in her eyes danced around the grey. “He talks of swaying like we do to the trees in the window!”
“Oh my Sherlock I love it. Thank you very much!” She kissed his forehead as his father walked in.
“Sherlock I told you to read on the couch! Now your mother is ill you can see her later but you must leave her alone until I tell you!” Morland grabbed Sherlock's arm and rushed him out the door. As the lock clicked Sherlock heard his father began to yell again. “How can you see your son this way?! How many times have you been with him whilst being in this condition!” tears began to roll from Sherlocks face as he ran to his room and sat underneath his desk making himself as small as he could.
Later that night Sherlock laid on his bed staring out the window. He had not left the room since being yelled at earlier. His door creaked as the smell of eggs and tea filled his senses. “Hey honey. I’m sorry dad yelled at you, it wasn't your fault. I forgot to tell you I was sick. I brought you some food, Mycroft was upset that you didn’t come down for his dinner that he made.” she set the tray next to him on the bed as he sat up and started putting sugar in his tea. “I thought I could read you a few of the poems I liked out of here before you went to bed. It can be our new thing, hmmmm. How does that sound?” he nodded and began to put pepper on his eggs as she cracked the book open and snuggled up next to him.
Mycroft was determined to get Sherlock to try his cooking this month. It had been nothing but failures for the past two of him staying in his room until their mom brought something up. Sherlock sat at the table memorizing a transcript from his favorite radio show so he could read it to his mum pretending to be the characters. Mycroft stuck a spoon in his face “Try it now Sherlock I think I’ve gotten rid of that overbearing garlic taste!” Sherlock licked the end of the spoon and gave a face. Mycroft shoulders drooped as he turned back around to the stove.
Thier mother walked into the kitchen wearing an outfit that looked to be picked out by a toddler. “Good afternoon boys. Wow do the both of you get more handsome every time I see you. Mycroft your cooking smell delicious, I can't wait to try it!” She hugged him from behind and swayed as he stirred the pot of sauce. “Sherlock I see you are working on your show! Mycroft wouldn’t it be great if Sherlock performed his show for us while we ate supper?” He shook his head with the grandest of smiles spread across his chubby face. If Sherlock were to perform at dinner then he would have to try the food.
Morland appeared around the corner as his family stood smiling at one another. “How is everyone doing this evening?” He stood in the doorway as they all looked to him.
“Father Sherlock is going to give us a show this evening as we all eat my meal!” Mycroft ran over to his father and gave him a hug. Sherlock's cheeks turned red as he smiled up at his father.
“Mycroft that sounds lovely. But I do have to be the bearer of bad news. I unfortunately have to go to Nepal tonight and will not be able to eat your meal Mycroft, and Sherlock I am sorry but I will miss your show, But if you save me some Mycroft I will try it when I get back. Sherlock if you would please use the new camera and record it I will watch it upon my return. May, could I have a word with you please before I go.” He turned and walked to the study for her to follow.
“I’m sorry your father can’t make it today boys. But hey we can still have fun together just the three of us!”
Mycroft was laughing so hard that his chocolate milk came out of his nose. Sherlock jumped on top of his chair and held the gravy boat like a baby as he told the story. Thier mum had her hand over her mouth as she belted out the most beautiful laugh Sherlock had ever heard. When she noticed Mycroft's mess she laughed even louder as she handed him a napkin. Sherlock stuck a piece of asparagus in his mouth and pretended it was a cigaret as he commanded the invisible troops before him as Mycroft and May listened.
The yelling had become more and more frequents later that year. Mycroft had been spending less time at home and would leave all day to be with his friends. Sherlock practiced his foreign languages and studied the plants in the apiary all day. Thier father would not let them see their mum for most of the days the rest of the year. She would still sneak into Sherlock's room and read him a poem or listen to his show. Sometimes Mycroft would sneak in too and they would all read a book together while snacking on something Mycroft had made.
One evening Mycroft was out back teaching Sherlock how to stand while riding a bike when they heard the wail of the ambulance pull up to their door. Both boys ran inside where their father stood talking to the EMT. He turned to them and shouted for them to go to their rooms. “I will send for a nanny to come watch you. Your mother is ill and needs to go to hospital. I will be back when I can.” He stepped into the back of the ambulance and held onto their mom's hand as tears rolled down all of their faces. Mycroft ran to his room and grabbed a bag of sweets and took off on his bike to the river. Sherlock sat in the doorway. He was crying so hard that his seven year old lungs could not keep up with him. He rocked back and forth with his knees pressed against his chest. He began to pull chunks of his shaggy hair out of his head as he rhythmically hit the side of his face. A car pulled up and an older woman ran up to him taking his wrist so he would stop and brought him inside.
It had been three months since the incident when she came into Sherlock's room with Mycroft following after. “Boys there's something I need to talk to you guys about. First I want you to know that your father and I love you both very much. This last year has been difficult for me and your father I know you two have noticed.” She was choking up looking into thier eyes. “But your father and I have decided to get a divorce. All this means is that we are not going to be married anymore, I will still be in the house. I may be moving out later but for now I will be here. This will not change anything between us you understand. I will still love to try your new and amazing recipes Mycroft. And Sherlock I will still read with you and listen to your shows.” She put her face in her hands as both sons hugged her and comforted her.
Thier mum was sick again as their father gathered them in the study. There were two suitcases next to the couch. “Boys it's time for you to become young gentlemen. So I am sending you to the best boarding school in Great Britain.” They both looked at each other. They have learned by now that they should not argue with their father. They grab their cases and went to gather their things. Mycroft was waiting at the door when Sherlock tried to go say goodbye to their mum. He opened the door as she laid slumped against her headboard. “Mum. Father said Mycroft and I need to leave for school.” He climbed up the bed to sit next to her. “Can we write to each other? We will be back in the fall. But that's several months away. Here is my dorm room please write to me mum.” She blinked absent mindedly staring at the wall.
“Sherlock the car is here!” Mycroft yelled from the foryar. Sherlock leaned in and kissed his mum and left the address on the nightstand next to her.
It wasn’t until the fourth weekend did Sherlock get his first letter from his mum.
My baby boy Sherlock.
I’m glad to hear about all the things you’ve been learning about. You are very bright just like your dear old mum. I can't wait to see you this fall. I think I found my favorite poem in that book you got me. I miss you very much and love you. Take care while you’re away.
Love,
Mum
He kept the letter in the desk of his dorm. Every time he had a rough day he would go and reread the letter.
Sherlock sat in the back seat of the car smiling and laughing with Mycroft as he told Sherlock all about the kids in his classes and the pudding incident that happened this past semester. “Why did you bring all of your books home with you? We have a whole week to not study!” Sherlock grinned and rearranged his books.
“They are for mother. I was hoping that we could read one or two together!” Mycroft's smile slowly faded from his face as he nodded. Then began to stare out the window.
When they arrived at their home Sherlock ran out of the car and straight to his mom's room only to find it bare. He went roaming around the house checking every room for his mother. When she was not to be found he frantically ran around the grounds shouting for her. “She's gone!” Mycroft yelled from back porch. Sherlock went running to his brother. “Father will be arriving for dinner soon. He left a note saying that mum moved out to a small complex that we will get to go visit in a few days.” Sherlock had tears swelling up in his eyes. He did not want to have to wait to see his mother. Mycroft tried to give Sherlock a hug but Sherlock dodged his thick arms and ran to his room not to come out until he was able to go visit his mother.
Mycroft pedled his bike with Sherlock riding on the bench of the back tire. They reached the complex and Sherlock ran up to the stairs to see his mum. The modest flat smelled of mold as Sherlock bounced back and forth outside of the door waiting for someone to open it. Mycroft finally reached the top of the steps as their mom opened the door.
“My boys oh my have you lot grown!” She kneeled down and gave both her sons a welcoming hug. Mycroft cooked up some lunch while Sherlock told her everything about school and all the things he's learning. They all sat round as Sherlock read from one of his books to them. The smell of mold disappeared and the small studio flat felt like home. Mycroft asked to read the next chapter so Sherlock could eat his food. They all had a giggle as Mycroft struggled with a few of the larger words. After the meal Mycroft departed to go to his friends house, leaving Sherlock to stay overnight with their mum.
Sherlock finished up the dishes while his mum made the bed for them. “Can you read me the poem you told me about? Your favorite from the book.”
“Yea honey come lay with me and i’ll read it before we go to sleep.” They both climbed into the bed as she took out the book. “Well I have two favorites but I think this one will help you with being away for school. Now close your eyes and I’ll read you to sleep.
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Her voice quiet and sweet carried love with each phrase as she rubbed Sherlock's back and continued reading other poems from the book as he drifted off to sleep.
He awoke to the smell of eggs and tea. Mycroft had come to pick him up and decided to join them for breakfast. They all sat round as they talked about what they would do with their next visit. “I think we should all go to the cinema and then for a walk in the park!” Mycroft muffled between bites of his toast.
“Can we catch frogs at the park?” Sherlock’s queried
“Of course we can!” Their mum rubbed both of their arms.
On the last day of their break they go to the park after the film. Mycroft could not shut up about how cool the car chase was while Sherlock squatted at the river bank with an old coffee jar looking for frogs. After catching a few they roamed the park smelling all the flowers. Mycroft went to sniff a daisy when a bee landed on his arm. Mycroft began yelling and swatting at the bee as their mother quickly grabbed his wrists.
“Mycroft bees are kind. They don’t want to hurt you, just watch.” She pointed to the bee as it flew back to the flower. “Bees are beautiful, very peaceful.”
They walked back to the complex as Mycroft went to grab his bike and Sherlock ran inside to get his books. “Here Sherlock I want you to keep this,” She handed him a hand written version of her favorite poems from the book. “I don’t know how long it will be until your next school break and visit so I want you to have these to read until we see eachother again.”
Sherlock accepted the papers and stuck them between his books. “Thank you mum! I have another break in two months so I will see you then. I think you're right about the bees. I think I will write you something about them for the next time we see each other.” Mycroft yelled from outside for Sherlock to hurry up. His mum swooped him up into her arms and hugged tightly. “I love you Sherlock, don’t you ever forget it.”
“I love you too mum, and I will never forget it!” he flashed her a smile as he ran down the stairs to Mycroft.
It was one week until their next break. Sherlock was giving a presentation on the effects of the moon to the tide when Mycroft walked into the classroom and handed his professor a note. “Sherlock, that will be all. Everyone give Sherlock a round of applause on his presentation. Your father has sent an urgent message and a car for you and your brother. I will tell you your grade upon your return.”
Sherlock turned to Mycroft with a curious look on his face. Mycroft took Sherlock by the hand as they walked to the car together. “Do you know what father wants?” Sherlock leaned into Mycroft's line of vision. He seemed to be daydreaming. Mycroft ignored him. Sherlock leaned back in his seat as the pulled up to the estate. The nanny had been waiting out front.
“Oh boys I’m so sorry.” She said embracing both of them into a hug. Sherlock squirmed free from her arms.
“Sorry about what? Mycroft what's going on?!” Sherlock tugged at Mycroft's jacket.
Mycroft just stared at Sherlock and tried to hold his hand, but Sherlock pulled back. Mycroft had began to cry as he walked Sherlock to the stairs by the gate. “Father called me this morning before class. Mum's flat caught fire last night. The whole thing burned down. They still have not found her body but they said there were no survivors.”
Sherlock stood up and pushed his brother away. “Stop it Mycroft this isn’t funny what's going on?!” Mycroft grabbed hold of Sherlock and forced him into a hug.
“Mum's gone Sherlock. She's dead.” Sherlock pushed his brother off for a second time
“No, no. She can’t be we have plans. Father can fix this. Take me there, take me to her place now Mycroft!” Mycroft fell to his knees weeping into his hands. “I can’t Sherlock she’s not there!” Sherlock took off running to her flat.
When he reached it there were firetrucks and ambulances everywhere. He found his father being held back by an officer as he was yelling and pointing to something sticking up from the rubble. Sherlock followed his father's finger to see his mother's wedding ring dangling from the finger of a broken hand. “No! Mum!” Sherlock screamed as he ran past the tape and workers to the hand he began throwing chunks of rubble off of the body as he began coughing from the smoke.
“Sherlock! Sherlock!” his father was screaming from behind the officer. A large firefighter pulled Sherlock off of the rubble as he lifted the rock from his late mother's face. Mycroft had finally arrived to the scene. And grabbed his brother from the firefighter. He walked his little brother over to the fence as Sherlock leaned his hands that were covering his face against the fence. Mycroft stood leaning against the fence blocking the crowed from staring at Sherlock.
They stood their for hours not touching just sobbing next to each other leaning against the fence. Morland walked over to his sons his face red from tears and covered in sout. “I’m so sorry boys. I’m….I’m…..I don’t know what to say.” He looked down and wiped the fresh tears from his face. “We need to go home. Let's go boys” He walked off towards a car as Mycroft tried to pick Sherlock up off the ground. He began throwing a fit. Kicking and screaming. “I’m not going anywhere with him! I hate him. I Hate You Father. You did this. You made her leave!” Morland stopped dead in his tracks. He turned back and marched over to his sons. Without speaking he grabbed Sherlock by his arms and dragged him to the car.
Watson came back from a trip to the store to pick up more soap. And overheard Sherlock arguing with someone. She went down to the kitchen to find him and his father in his room.
“For the last time Sherlock it was not my fault. I did everything I could to help your mother. I worked hard to protect you from her drug habit. I made sure you could still see each other. I loved her. I made her go seek help! ” Morland was standing his face as red as his tie. He spotted Joan and left without saying another word.
Sherlock was trying to wipe the tears from his eyes as she walked into his room. “Are you okay what was that about?”
“Father thinks I pawned mums ring off to acquire more drug money.”
“I’m sorry Sherlock that's terrible. Did you tell him that you have it?” She set the bag down on the floor. Sherlock looked down at the ground as he let out a loud cry. Tears were streaming from his face as Joan wrapped her arms around him and began to sway from side to side. “It's going to be ok Sherlock, she knows you didn’t pawn it off and that's all that matters.” She held him out at arm's length. “Sherlock talk to me how can I help.”
He wiped the snot from his face and reached out for another hug. “I wish I could have told her so much more, you know, But you can’t know. You can’t ever really know, would you really want to know. How the hell would I know. The last time that you ever see another soul. No, you never get to know. I wish I had known.”