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Chapter Text

A week later.

The pungent smell of roses covered the room, white roses, it was a nice floral arrangement on the small table, Sherlock had never paid attention to this detail, it had never been important, - No Flowers, My request - he took a deep breath and soaked himself in the soft aroma, seemed to ease the anguish somewhat, after Sherrinford seemed that he could no longer divorce his feelings, his mind could not ignore this fact, his brain could not suppress any sorrow in the future.

- "Two years have passed since the last appointment ... What has changed, Sherlock?" - The detective moved his hands nervously ... "Have you changed?" - She said in a soft voice.

- "People change?" - Sherlock looked aside - Mary - he thought.

- "Yes, I believe that the human being is capable of changing ... don't you?" - There was a long silence between them, Sherlock was afraid to say the words, even feelings were confined, and he looked at her sadly.

- "What's wrong with your brother?" - I look at him curiously.

- "Mycroft is seriously ill, besides, he is no longer a young man, someday he must die, we will all die anyway, but the truth is I do not know" - Sherlock paused while looking at Mycroft's ring in his hand - " when he wakes up I don't know ... What am I supposed to tell him? "

- "... He is your brother, you know him better, but I would expect that you tell me the truth, Sherlock" - the detective squeezed the ring in his hand; it was not easy, since, Sherrinford everything was a mess.

-"The truth?" - The truth is rarely pure and never simple - Sherlock closed his eyes - "Then ... I would have to tell him ..." - The detective swallowed hard, I look at the ceiling - "Mycroft ... your heart is so damaged that only a transplant is possible ... but unfortunately in your case due to your blood receptor type you will have to wait too ... too long ... from one to two years of waiting and that only there is a 5.5% chance that you get a donor ... "- Sherlock ran his hand over his face feeling completely helpless after to hear his own words. - "In other words ... brother mine... according to the statistics you will die in less than six months ..." - his voice broke, as did his heart, it was difficult not to feel guilt.

- "I'm sorry, Sherlock" - said the woman while looking at her hands.

- "I do not know what to say ..." - the younger brother looked out the window looking for an answer.

- “Sherlock, it's normal that you feel that way, sad, ... you're in grieving, sorrow, its completely natural feeling" - the woman filled a glass with water and handed it to Sherlock - "You'll say what you feel  and in no way It will be wrong or bad ... "

- "I should have told him and I should not have forgotten ... always my way, everything ..." - the detective's voice broke and the glass in his hand trembled.

-"I don't have all the answers, but ... there are moments in life that you just have to let go, even those you love most, we can’t save everyone, Sherlock." -the little brother closed his eyes, her words hurt in the depths of his soul that woman was right and Sherlock knew.

- "I need to know what I should do ... now ... I cannot control my mind ... the thoughts, these feelings chase me ..." - said Sherlock desperate. - "I need to know what to do ... when ... he wakes up" –

- "If I were in your shoes ... although it's hard to imagine ..." - Sherlock looked at her carefully - "... I would probably want to be with him as long as possible ... maybe I would take him somewhere he has never visited and we would talk about everything that we do not we said before ... "- Sherlock's eyes got wet and he stood up -" but the most important thing would do what he felt at the moment ... without fears, without grudges, without past, Sherlock ... as if you knew your brother for the first time. "

Seven weeks for Christmas

Sunlight pierced the clouds that covered London, it had stopped raining, and forecasts predicted that this winter would be the crudest of the last 20 years, by melancholic nature, obviously in secret, Mycroft loved autumn and winter, his best memories of childhood happened in those seasons of the year, the big brother contemplated the fabulous view of the city while waiting for his medical discharge, his aging figure was reflected in the glass, gray hair, pale skin, eyes haggard and  deeply sadness, and thinner than ever before, his little brother had not come to see him the last days or any other, it was something totally expected, after Victor Trevor, Sherlock had no doubt got him out of his life and it was better that way.

- "Are you sure, Mr. Holmes?, I must insist that you will have the best care here in the hospital while waiting for a new heart" - said Dr. Smith.

- "I insist ... that I will be better than at home ..." - said Mycroft while looking at his mother and father look distressed, and Eurus was silent in a corner of the room. Molly brought a wheelchair and he looked at her with a sweet smile.

- "Myc?" - Mum Holmes approached his son, looking into his eyes, and placed his hand on Mycroft's chest - "Please, consider what the doctor said ..." - Mycroft looked at her with his blue eyes, and tenderly he hug her, the big brother never thought to do something like that before, but inside of him he felt that he should not waste any more time, Molly looked to the side holding her tears and Eurus ducked her head, she could hardly understand what It happened inside of her, the strong feelings and emotions were still confusing to her.

- "We'll be fine ... we always are ... isn’t it?" - said Mycroft looking at Eurus.

It was not a lie, just a convenient lie, he just could not be sure, for the first time the mathematics was against him, and although he planned it perfectly, he knew that his path had been shortened, an infinite part of Mycroft's universe had disappeared and everything had been reduced to a few months, there was nothing to predict, there were no possibilities, just one, and in that new universe that awaited him he felt as alone as before, Sherlock for him wasn't only his little brother, he was his only friend for years, Mycroft lied to him and in a certain way betrayed, in Mycroft's morality, lying was a tool to protect those he loved, he hoped in the depths of his being that his baby brother would forgive him one day.

-"Mycroft? ..." - the faint voice came from the back of the parking lot, Lestrade was walking towards him.

-"How do you feel?" - he ask hurriedly.

- "I feel ready to run a marathon ... why?" - The detective smiled to see that Mycroft retained his sarcastic sense of humor intact.

-"I'm satisfied that you can only climb a few steps ..." - Mycroft looked at the back of the parking lot and observed the worried face of Greg.

- "My dear little brother?" - Lestrade nodded, and took a deep breath; Mycroft paused and looked at his parents - "I'm afraid you'll have to go without me ... I'll see you at home tomorrow ... DI Lestrade will throw me a farewell party now... a Scotland Yard’s style party, you know ... transvestites ... sadomasochism, slave sex and other stuff, just for people with an open mind, I fear you don’t qualify, I'm sorry, bye bye!"- said the government official while his parents looked at him in complete horror and Eurus hid her accomplice laughter with her big brother.

-“Thank you, Mycroft, very thank you!”- said Lestrade a little offended.

-“You’re very  welcome, Gregory”- He said smiling, enjoy these little humiliations.

- "John?" - Mycroft said seriously when seeing that John wore a sling on his left arm.

- "Mycroft ... it's a pleasure to see you" - said the smiling doctor.

Both men got into the car, Lestrade opened the passenger window and watched as Mycroft's face turned red trying to catch his breath, they had only walked a couple of meters, John looked at him with concern while the government official tried a loosen up bit his tie.

- "A marathon? ... really?" - Lestrade said in a worried voice, Mycroft looked at him questioningly and only smiled.

"Sorry, Mycroft, I would not have looked for you if I was not ..." - said nervous John.

- "How long?" - asked Mycroft bluntly turning his head to the back of the car, John bit his lower lip and sighed deeply, he had forgotten that the older brother also possessed the skills of Sherlock, much more shrewd and smart, he deduced that John had spent two sleepless nights, his clothes were the same as yesterday and had a beard grown, at least three days.

- "Three weeks, after of Bill Wiggins funeral, you still was remain in coma for that days ... I tried everything, even with my therapist ..." - John said anguished.

- "And you want me to be there?" - John nodded, Mycroft filled his lungs with air and closed his eyes, - "John, this cannot continue ... you know I will not be much longer here" - his voice was sad, and the sentence froze both friends.

The government official sat on the edge of the bed, the scene was similar to others ones, only this time Sherlock was in his room, he was lying covered him by white sheets and face down, totally unconscious, gently the big brother put the hand on his face, his beard was long and his clothes could easily be mistaken for a homeless person, syringes, candles, it were everywhere, but his little brother kept the photo of both on the bed table, a slight hope, slowly took the arm of Sherlock, both marked with needle sticks, the situation could not be worse, something had shone in the dim light - My ring - thought Mycroft, in the Sherlock's hand, a slight smile get drawing on his face, he tenderly covered Sherlock's body with a blanket and went out the door. The signs were everywhere, like a symptom, it was inevitable, Mycroft felt sorrow, if some time he thought of leaving of that place, he couldn't do it anymore, could not leave his brother not now, Sherlock was suffering like him, he looked at the room, everything was the same, the pieces of the skull, it crashed against the wall that day, the books that were on top of the fireplace were still on the floor, after weeks it seemed that Sherlock could not continue with his life, as if trapped by the past.

- "He threatened us with a harpoon to me and Mrs. Hudson if we touched those things ..." - John said while preparing tea in the kitchen, Mycroft with the hands on his waist he looked once more around him, the worry increased, and his heart could also feel it, tired, he fell into the chair of his brother, and closed his eyes for a few seconds. - "You don't look fine, Mycroft, you can rest in the available room" - John smiled and Mycroft just nodded.

-"And my brother?" - Mycroft asked seriously.

- "He will not get away, I'll be here, there's a police car with two men from Scotland Yards, he'll wake up in a few hours until the effect of the drugs he used pass on" - Mycroft raised both eyebrows and Gregory smiled, he could almost feel the doubt.

He woke up with a dry mouth, the voices coming from the living room were loudly - Sherlock - closed his eyes a moment wishing he had not woken up, to Mycroft sleep was the closest thing to death, he had felt like that for months, depressed, he look at the white ceiling that had accompanied him for months, the night had fallen, he knew that at any moment the door would open, it was something inevitably, Mycroft tired got up from the bed, took his jacket and opened the door.

- "John ... I'm not asking you... just get out of my way ... and why is Greg here?" - Mycroft leaned on the wall, put his hands on the surface, could feel the smooth texture of the wall under his fingers, he closed his eyes a moment, just a moment, tried that his mind was get out from there - "ooh I get it!, is he my new nanny?" - Sherlock said typically when he was drugged; Lestrade kept silent and looked to the hurted side.

- "You're a selfish and ungrateful bastard, Sherlock, last night I and Greg we are looking for you all over London" - John restrained his anger and looking once again at his friend - "This time we will do it to your way ... always your way ... ¿remember?, stupid stories, this is where people come and tell us their stories ... only now it will be your story, Sherlock "- John said almost shouting, and taking the chair, he put it between the two sofa and looked at Sherlock. - "Your brother is here, Mycroft is here" - Sherlock was paralyzed as if he had been hit in the head by something, John looked at him inquisitively.

- "He ... is?" - asked affected Sherlock

- "Just sit ... please" - John said one last time looking at the ground with one of his hands on the waist, containing his anger. Sherlock looked at the client's chair, and for the first time dropped his body into it, without raising his head and in complete silence, the main cause was there. John walked to the hall - "Are you ready?" - The question almost sounded like an apology, the doctor knew he could not avoid this moment, not if he wanted Sherlock to recover some sanity.

The big brother walked down the hall without raising his head and without saying anything sat in the Sherlock's sofa looking at Lestrade who was standing in the front door, after a few seconds he turned his eyes to the picture with the skull, a dark background almost gray, his hands perspiring and his heart beating his chest, Mycroft knew he had to calm down.

- "Today will not be sarcastic comments?, or a raid in search of drugs?" - exclaimed Sherlock with irony hiding his concern - weight loss, anorexia, dyspnea at the minimum effort, faster heart, evident, ejection fraction = 25%, expectations: death sudden - Sherlock squeezed his hands tightly on the chair, the truth could be cruel, unalterable and without saying anything, Mycroft was still looking at the picture.

- "I'll wait down stairs" - said Lestrade without wanting to stay, he looked at Mrs. Hudson who had just arrived at the flat, but quickly grabbed her arm - "The boys have domestic problems to discuss, Mrs. Hudson" - and closed the door behind him.

Outside it rained torrentially, the water slid through the window unimpeded, and you could still hear the city in a dizzying sound of life, in the uncomfortable silence, Mycroft listened to the rain, imagined that he walked completely alone, feeling alive was what he needed, feeling the rain on his face and breathing the cold air for a few seconds, without his umbrella -Why not? - Mycroft thought.

- "I see brother mine, you have gone from denial to depression without any troubles" - Mycroft didn't answer and Sherlock continued provocatively - "John's therapist told me about the five stages of a terminally ill ... I guess you know...you know everything" –

-"Enough, Sherlock!" - John said with anger in his voice.

-“Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance…”- Sherlock looked him he waiting for any Mycroft’s some kind the reaction. - What stage are you in, Sherlock? - Mycroft thought, it was evident, the signs were everywhere.

"Enough Sherlock!, or I promise you we'll leave, leaving you alone in your misery" - John threatened for the last time, Mycroft instead would not leave he could not leave his brother in those conditions again. Sherlock took a deep breath and took out of his pocket, two morphine bag, and one syringe; he left them on the table in front of Mycroft’s eyes, while John watched without surprise.

- "I told you John, I take the cases so as don’t to get high ..." –

- "No, it's not true ..." - John said annoyed. - "You cannot concentrate on your cases, Sherlock" - the silence returned to the place, Mycroft knew the reactions of Sherlock very well, but this time there was something different in everything, something deeper. - "You're terrified because you think you've lost the most important thing, what you think makes you special ..." - continued John.

- "You always have the right John”- Sherlock approached the table –“The list ... brother mine" - said Sherlock in a soft voice, but Mycroft ignored his words again; he knew he had gone too far.

- "You know we're not here for the damn list ... Sherlock" - John looked at Mycroft; he knew something had to change. - "It's time to talk, your story, to decide if we're going to help you, Sherlock, that's how this works  and ... we don't have much time" - sentenced John in a sad voice, Sherlock looked at Mycroft, the message It was clear. - "What's wrong with you?" - John coughed to clear his throat.

-What's wrong with me? - The question remained fixed in his mind, Sherlock stared at the window, his hands trembled, abstinence, he did not want to think, John crossed his legs and Mycroft seemed to be absent.

- "I feel lost ..." - said Sherlock sadly.

- "Why?" - John asked and Sherlock bowed his head - "Sorry ... just continue" - the doctor answered quickly.

- "You know, John, that's not my style ... talk"- Sherlock said as he wiped his hands on his pants.

-"Just try it ..." - his voice was tired but calmer.

- "This is not for any case ... I just cannot stop feeling this ... and the drug calms me, numbs what I feel, but when I wake up ..." - Mycroft closed his eyes - "Everything is the same ..." - Sherlock looked the roof and licked his dry lips. - "I try to solve it in my mind, but I just cannot ..." - said Sherlock euphorically.

- "Here we are to help you" - added John.

- "I went to visit you for a week to the hospital, Mycroft" - Sherlock finally looked at his big brother - "and while I saw you lying in that bed I couldn't understand again how we have been wrong so much ... you and me, no more secrets no more lies, remember? " - Sherlock ran his sleeve through his mouth- "Then I understood, we are what we are and nothing will change that, but the most important thing is that ... knowing that you had died alone in that place and that I was not there for you, that simply destroyed me, brother mine" - Sherlock's voice broke - "Now you can make fun of your little brother who is a stupid sentimental, because I'm not to able of bury these feelings in the depths of my being ...I just cannot do it, I cannot anymore ..." - Sherlock took the hands to his face, and John looked at Mycroft who had his eyes closed, it was only a few seconds.

- "Anger ..." - broke the silence, Mycroft spoke in a soft, understandable and almost paternal voice.

-"Anger?" - John asked confused - "What are you talking about, Mycroft?" - the brother slowly turned his head and looked at Sherlock at last, there was no look of hatred in the eyes of the detective, nor disappointment, probably the time proves to him he was right, only her little brother was terrified of losing part of his story, that lifeless gaze Mycroft saw on him when Victor Trevor disappeared, when Mary died, the death meaning for Sherlock was much more unacceptable, and almost intolerable reality, Mycroft stood up slowly and placed himself next to the chair of his brother, Sherlock closed his eyes perhaps expecting the worst, the Mycroft's nature had always been contained, cold in the least expected moments. Sherlock felt the his big brother's arms around of his chest, a warm feeling reached his throat and it was inevitable for the detective to remember his childhood, without thinking, Sherlock took Mycroft's arms and dropped his head on them.

-"And that night I told you that I forgave you ..."- Mycroft breathed a small sigh of relief.

- "I told you ... that I would always be with you ... Sherlock" - he whispered in his ear, the tears fell down his cheeks releasing the pressure in his chest. John looked at the carpeted floor watching his friend fall apart and letting himself be carried away by the love of Mycroft, a slight smile on his face was drawn, it was much more than he could expect, he knew that Sherlock would take time to accept the loss of Mycroft, maybe one day Sherlock would be fine.

Christmas Eve.

-"Shame of you, Myc!" - exclaimed his horrified mother, Mycroft rolled his eyes, and Sherlock looked at his little sister who laughed maliciously.

- "She is the genius, in case you had not noticed, dear mother" - replied Mycroft indignantly as he dropped a pawn on the side of the chessboard.

-"My poor daughter ... this is an abuse! I cannot blame Sherlock, compared to you, Mycroft, he is still only a child" - said Mummy Holmes with one hand on the waist and a spoon on the other one. The kitchen was still the favorite place of the siblings when it was snowing outside, the warmest and most comfortable, Sherlock looked at the chessboard without blinking - "Playing chess, two against one, is unacceptable, Myc! I'll tell your father about this! I have no doubt that it was your idea…"- the detective hit the arm of Mycroft who was sitting next to him, John who watched  with interest from the other armchair only laughed with the situation.

- "It's always my fault ..." - Mycroft said through clenched teeth.

- "I listen to you, Mycroft! ..." -

- "Balance of probabilities ... dear mother" - Mycroft smiled falsely.

- "You will not teach me about math ... Myc!" - Sherlock and Eurus, both bowed their heads laughing - "If any of you hurt my little girl, there's going to be trouble and end of the story!" - Mummy Holmes always had the last word and Mycroft closed his eyes, exasperated sigh and turned back.

- "Myc?" - said mom Holmes from the door.

- "WHAT?!" - exclaimed annoyed Mycroft.

- "the pawn you moved, it covered your king, Q-H5, QE-8, checkmate, my daughter" - said in a voice burlesque Mummy Holmes, Mycroft dropped his head in the hands, while listening like the others laughed about it.

- "... Just shut up!! ..." - said Mycroft after a few seconds he started to laugh too.

- "Oh please, that's cheating!" - said Sherlock trying to recover the seriousness.

- "And have you the nerve to say it?, Sherlock, your mother is right, Eurus is at a disadvantage here" - said John from the armchair while folding a newspaper. - "Besides the old proverb that says: two people think better than one, it has been proven here that is not entirely true, naturally" - John said laughing, Mycroft tilted his body in the chair trying to hide his humiliation and looking at Eurus.

- "Checkmate!" - exclaimed Mycroft - "This is the thirteenth and last time, you win me in the chess dear little sister ..." - he said without thinking, and Eurus changed her expression, sadness and silence took over the place, the words were fleeting and sad but true.

- "We can still play ... do you want?" - Eurus said as fast as she could trying to encourage her big brother, Mycroft looked at his pocket-watch, it was after 6 pm and he was waiting for a call from Lady Smallwood.

- "It's very tempting little sister mine, but I think on another occasion has been enough humiliation for a day ... if you excuse me" - Mycroft stood slowly, needs to breathe fresh air, he take his coat, with his hand subtly took the cigarettes and his father's lighter, he opened the door and the icy wind sneaked down the corridor, had stopped snowing and walked to the backyard, tired sat on the old larch tree trunk, the night was dark and he could see the stars so clearly as when  he was a child, he took a cigarette from the box and lit it, he looked at his wrists, he still retained the scars left by the bonds, it was inevitable to remember his days in prison in Sherrinford, the rapes and the murders, inhaled the dense smoke in his lungs  with despair, the nicotine calmes his anxiety it had always been like this.

The call was so short as unusual, Lady Smallwood had avoided Mycroft as much as possible, and the government official interpreted this new reaction of her as a rejection, after the last events it was something to be expected, the last weeks had been splendid it and the older brother was trying to please everyone, he had no obvious symptoms of his illness, only a little trouble breathing at night, despite that, Mycroft was doing well, Sherlock had helped him in the government matters, meetings, interviews, resolutions, it was normal to see them together in the government cabinet or in the Diogenes club, Sherlock's support had been essential and Mycroft knew that his little brother had left his affairs aside to be with him.

- "have you lost your mind?" - Sherlock snatched the cigarette from Mycroft's hand - "You know you cannot smoke ... if they find out in the hospital that you have smoked you will be removed from the transplant list" - Mycroft looked at him tenderly; inside he knew that would never happen.

- "Look around you, Sherlock, we're alone ... besides I was celebrating, I'm happy, brother mine ..." - Mycroft started coughing, and Sherlock looked at him angrily.

- "It's a stupid way to celebrate" - he crouched and unbuttoned Mycroft's shirt - "I know that my presence makes you happy, brother mine, there is no need to say it" - Sherlock said smiling and Mycroft rolled his eyes.

- "Yes, of course!" - the sarcasm in Mycroft's voice made his brother smile even more - "I just want to tell you that we have achieved it ..." - said Mycroft with a triumphant smile, Sherlock looked at him surprised and completely incredulous. - "The work of weeks ... finally worked" –

- "Eurus?" - asked Sherlock.

- "That's right, little brother ... from the first days of February, our little sister will walk the streets of London freely, her identity will be back and she will be a British citizen, with rights and duties just like us" - Sherlock look turned in the dark forest, he could not hide his excitement, he could finally take his sister home. - "Only my signature is missing, the documents are coming ..."

- "It will be a wonderful Christmas present for her, Myc ..." - Sherlock looked excitedly at his older brother and put his hand on his shoulder.

- "I think so ..." - said Mycroft proudly.

- "Your machinations worked once more, dear brother" - Sherlock lit a cigarette.

- "That's right ..." - Mycroft said seriously and in a low voice - "Have you visited Victor Trevor in Sherrinford?" - The question was direct; Sherlock breathed smoke into his lungs and after a brief silence.

- "You know the answer ... he has refused to see me" - Mycroft smiled, it was conveniently what he expected, Victor Trevor away from his family.

- "Myc ... I have searched for information and in Switzerland there is an experimental treatment where they have been able to regenerate the dead tissue in patients who have suffered massive heart attacks as in your case ..." - Sherlock turned with his hands in his pockets and continued - "we could try it, what do you say? "Mycroft ducked his head; he knew his little brother needed time.

- "Yes, you could find out more and ... see what happens" - Mycroft said softly, he could not deny that he felt the need to continue living, and on his heart harbored some of that stupid hope - "Sherlock ... I never told you this ..." - Mycroft looked at his little brother - "Thank you ..." - Sherlock just smiled happily, he knew how hard it was, the detective took off his scarf, he put it carefully in the Mycroft's neck.

- "Come on ..." - I drop the cigarette butt to the snow avoiding the emotional context - "You're freezing ... I think it's time we go home" –

- "Wait ..." - Mycroft took the hand of his little brother and Sherlock closed his eyes - "There is something else ..." - sigh distressed, a little uncomfortable fix the scarf and continued - "Tomorrow will be a year since I killed those mens…that I was in prison, Sherrinford, that I tried to kill myself and that I was finally imprisoned in a mental institution, we've been through a lot, brother mine…"- ... "- Mycroft looked at his house while he saw that his mother turned out the lights, he could not find the precise words, and he needed to be as sincere as possible -" The machinations ... you are right above all, brother, I have always carried this darkness with me, these inner demons, but you don't think for a moment that I have sought to harm you, I have only been too stupid, looking for a way to protect you "- Sherlock looked at the snow under his feet shining in the darkness - "and despite my deficiencies I tried it, and I did it because there was never a time in my life that I stopped caring you, Eurus and you, were always the most important thing in my life, until now "- Sherlock hugged his brother tenderly unable to stop flowing his words, had a lump in his throat. - "I know I have to pay for my mistakes, I have to pay for those things where I did more harm than good ... the final problem was always that, I must die to end a cycle, Sherlock" - Mycroft felt something of redemption in his words, and little brother looked at him and could feel the pain.

- "I'm not ready to talk about that, I just know that Moriarty is part of the past, brother mine, you don't forget that we are human, and you now more than ever"-

- "I'm not talking about Moriarty ... I'm talking …everyone loses something or someone in their lives... I just want you to understand, Sherlock, that I will not always be with you, physically, I know you need time, we've never been good at speaking between us, but if you want to tell me something, you can do it whenever you want" - The consulting detective turned without saying anything, knew that Mycroft was right, finish a cycle.

Sherlock thought it was a good time, Mycroft was not a person who get opened his soul naturally and remembering the words of John's therapist, he turned to see his brother's eyes - "There is somewhere you want to visit or something you want to do, Myc?”- said something nervous Sherlock.

- "a bucket list, do you mean? What funny expressions people use sometimes" - said Mycroft laughing and Sherlock covered his mouth with the hand hiding his sadness, it was inevitable for the oldest to realize - "Sorry ..." - said quickly.

-"Then?" - said Sherlock.

- "I have not thought yet ..." - Mycroft wrinkled his forehead thinking - "The truth is nobody has ever asked me that question before..." - Sherlock certainly don't doubt it, Mycroft was still a lonely person.

- "Come on, there must be something you want to do ..." - said Sherlock enthusiastically.

- "You know as a child I wanted to be an astronomer, but Uncle Rudy thought it was not a good option for our family ... you know, so I put that dream aside, but I always promised that I would visit an observatory one day" - Sherlock looked at the dark sky again, thinking, in the middle of winter it was difficult to find an observatory nearby and he really did not know if there was one in England.

-"Astronomy? Seriously?, I did not know you liked it" – Sherlock exclaimed surprise.

- "That's right; you have forgotten that I had a small telescope on the rooftop of Musgrave?" - Sherlock looked to the side trying to remember but it was useless - "Once I told you it was impossible to count the stars in the sky ... of course you were a stubborn child not very different from what you are now, one night you ran away from home and went to the forest ... you wanted to count all the stars, and in the process you got lost ... and I… "-

- "No, Mycroft, I do not remember ... do not insist" - said annoyed voice Sherlock. It wasn’t totally true, Sherlock  remember him that night but he wanted to avoid the context, and  perhaps a part of his memory of Mycroft had been replaced like Victor Trevor and Eurus, Sherlock knew that in his mind he had created his "archenemy", Mycroft was perfect in every sense of the word , but as the months passed he had realized that only in part, the image and creation of Mycroft in his mind was only part of his childhood, in his games the big brother was the antagonist, but behind that character that Sherlock he had created in his mind there was much more to admire and love, - "so much wasted time" - Sherlock murmured, barely audible.

- "What?" - said Mycroft breathing hard

- "Nothing, brother mine" - blue lips, Sherlock knew that it was not the product of the cold - "Tired?" - Mycroft nodded - "Ok, stop, take a breath" - said worried and the older brother support his head on Sherlock's shoulder - "that's ..." - Sherlock held him in his arms.

- "It's enough for me, Sherlock, spend my days with my family, with you, I do not need to travel or do anything extraordinary" - he sighed releasing the pressure in his chest.

- "Then ... let me be with you until the end" - Sherlock looked into his eyes.

- "Sherlock ... you know that ..." - Mycroft smiled sadly, he knew that could destroy Sherlock.

- "Like a proper little brother" - the detective pleaded softly. It was inevitable; he could not protect his little brother this time. The snow began to fall on their heads and Mycroft kept silent, with his hand clean Sherlock's hair that was filled with snow, both walked slowly side by side, there was nothing more to say, the little brother was already shattered, It was not a family that celebrated Christmas, but this time it was necessary, it could be the last Christmas for Mycroft, and Sherlock knew how to pretend be fine, he should be happy, he should smile, not because he really felt it, he would only do it for his rubbish big brother, by Mycroft.

Christmas.

The throbbing of his heart, it was all he could hear, with his hand on his chest the sweat-soaked shirt, Mycroft was trying to release his breathing sitting on the bed, the dream had been so real, so dark and disturbing as one of his fantasies, the terror of his little sister was still chasing him every night, and the doubt as a result, he could have wrong again, but Mycroft had already signed the document, his subconscious tortured him in the most spooky way. The government official started coughing without being able to catch his breath, a familiar voice began to speak to him, it was calm and soft, he did not want to open his eyes, he felt exhausted by the effort and he rested his head on her shoulder.

- "Myc, that's ... breathes" - She took a handkerchief from her pocket and began carefully to dry Mycroft's forehead, Daddy Holmes entered the room scared by the situation. - "One glass of water" - she said quickly.

-"What happened?" - asked worried Sherlock and approached quickly to look at his brother, Mycroft was pale, exhausted, and his lips turned purple, lack of oxygen, I knew that this was not good  - "I'll go for John" - quickly left the room.

- "It is not necessary ..." - said Mycroft finally opening his eyes.

- "Shhhh!, let him examine you or he will not leave you alone" - Eurus told him tenderly while holding Mycroft's head in her chest, he was unable to argue. - "You still have those nightmares as a child, Myc" - The big brother was silent, he had been traumatized just like Sherlock, but to a lesser extent, Eurus knew that the ghosts of the past were still chasing to Mycroft.

-"How do you feel?" - John said when he saw that Mycroft made a gesture of pain in his face and Sherlock approached worried - "It is the implanted defibrillator ... the discharges to correct the irregular beats it hurt many times, right, Mycroft?"- He nodded and the big brother looked around, surprised everyone was in his room.- "Your shirt is completely wet ..." - John helped Mycroft to open his shirt, the scars were visible, Sherlock closed his eyes - "Mycroft, breathe deeply" – John, ordered while looking at Sherlock with a smile.

- "I feel some nausea...What time is it?" - Mycroft asked confused.

- "Please do not talk ..." - threatened John and Mycroft looked at the ceiling, Mummy Holmes looked at him reprovingly.

- "3:34 am" - answered Molly.

- "The nausea is normal in your case it is symptoms of your advanced heart failure...his lungs are heard well, his pulse is a little high but it will be fine" - Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief. - "Molly please give me a syringe, and the bottle of morphine, it is what the doctor prescribed to you, he knew you would have trouble sleeping, Mycroft, this will help you breathe better" - John said confidently, the detective sat on the edge of bed, he knew that if John was there he could face any Mycroft health crisis. - "With this you will feel better and you can ... sleep" - John raised Mycroft's arm and wiped the visible vein with alcohol.

- "You are not under any illusions, brother dear, the drug is only for tonight" - said Sherlock, and Mycroft looked at him questioningly.

- "My son, here you have clean pajamas and your father brought water" - said Mummy Holmes with tenderness.

- "Thanks to everyone" - said Mycroft, his parents looked surprised, the big brother had always been a snarky person, who rarely appreciated them, or was empathetic with them. Mycroft felt strangely protected in that little place, and he had never been cared for in that way before, or that someone really cared about him.

- "I'll stay and take care of him the rest of the night ... if you do not mind" - everyone looked at each other when Eurus said these words,

- "Yes, my daughter you can do it ... taken care of your brother " - Sherlock was uncomfortable, not completely sure, still had doubts like Mycroft, but he had to trust, he approached his little sister.

- "Good night, Eurus, if you need something just wake me up, anything, will you?" - concluded the detective, the woman turned with a smile and closed the door behind her, Mycroft still not asleep.

- "Feeling better?" - The big brother looked at her strangely.

-What are you doing here? - He said in a worried voice.

- "I'll take care of you what's left of the night ..." - Mycroft looked at her in the dark, she had a sweet smile - "You took care of me many times ..." - she rested her head on the pillow, he looked at the ceiling, Mycroft drunk some water  to clear his throat and turned his head to look at his little sister.

- "Eurus ... I have understood that it is not necessary to remain in the dark, when you can share that part of you, the darkness we have it with the people you love, sister mine, it will never disappear I assure you ... but it will be easier to bear" - Mycroft's words reached the depths of Eurus's soul, rarely had her brother spoken in this way, as personal as brothers. Eurus smiled, she knew that Mycroft in the darkness could not see her face, timidly she put her hand on his chest, and he took the hand of Eurus, it only took a few minutes until he fell asleep quickly by the effects of the drug, the little sister for many years had dreamed of killing Mycroft, and now he had him lying in bed, drugged and ill, she would not have a better chance, strangle him was the safest thing, she sighed deeply and thought about the sentimental context it was stronger, Mycroft, he was not the same person as before, now he is a kind brother, there was no reason to feel resentment. She softly removed her brother's arm and placed her head on his chest, the Mycroft's heart was struggles to beat, too weak, she concluded that there was not much time between them, she closed her eyes, and falling asleep too.

After Christmas dinner, Mycroft took Rosie in her arms and sat looking at the fireplace next to her, he watched her for a long time, she have the same eyes that her mother, there was no doubt, he could not forget the first time the he met her, with the years Mycroft never imagined that that woman was able to form a family, a cold assassin and calculating,  of course for Mycroft to have a family of his own wasn’t a pending or interesting matter, but now that he was holding Rosie in his arms the big brother questioned himself, he had spent so much time taking care of his little siblings that he had forgotten to make his own family, with the warmth of the place this made that the little girl begin to fall asleep, Mycroft supported her little head in his chest he turned to look at his siblings who were talking with his parents, suddenly he felt that he was absent, as if he were a ghost in the place, it was not bad or painful, he gave a little peace in his heart, see that Sherlock would have his little sister, John and Molly, they would not be alone anymore, it gave him consolation that maybe next Christmas at his parents' house would be the same as this one, and it should be.

Mycroft could not sleep, it was much easier to be wandering in the darkness of the house than to lie on the bed and struggle to breathe, he looked out the window, outside began to snow again, thinking that he was not observed for anyone, he took the bottle of liquor, whiskey, I did not drink a year ago, Mycroft looked at the translucent coffee liquid and put his nose to the glass, the aromas of wood, phenol, oil, the whisky's fragrance was impregnated in his lungs as a maximum pleasure, he supported himself in the frame of the window something insecure drank his first sip, and closed his eyes, the bitter liquid burned his throat, but there was more, and he remembered that he was an ex alcoholic.

- "You should not drink ..." - said Molly with a cup of tea in her hand, Mycroft looked at her tenderly. - "It's not good for your heart" - she said unsurely, the big brother still looked imposing and powerful, with his blue three-piece suit and red tie.

- "You're right, cannot you sleep?" - He subtly diverted the conversation, while leaving the glass on the table.

- "No, I made a tea ... maybe this will help me" -

- "In my college years, there were many nights that was spent with insomnia ... looking over and over the ceiling" - Mycroft took a vinyl from a box - "While others came out to get drunk, I listened to music, it was a way to calm my restless mind ... jazz was all I had and also classic music, obviously. "- the government official turned and showed her the vinyl.

- "Miles Davis ..." - she read confused - "Who is he?" - asked Molly as she sat down.

- "A jazz musician, the best trumpeter of his generation I must admit, have you ever heard jazz, Miss Hooper?" - Molly crossed her legs while looking with interest at Mycroft.

- "Never" - she admitted with shame.

- "That's unacceptable!" - Exclaimed Mycroft surprised, and placed the needle of the record player calculating accurately - "It's something that we must solve, do not you think?" - He turned and walked across the room, stood in front of Molly and offered his hand to her.

- "I don’t know ...I should not…" - she said while she took the hand of the government official scared.

- "Just follow me ...feel the music" - said Mycroft whispering in her ear and taking her waist, Molly took his shoulder, the sensual sound of Chez' Le Photographe Du Motel’s trumpet began to sound throughout the room, Mycroft smiled sweetly, he couldn't ignore that she was nervous, he could hear her breathing fast and somehow that pleased him.

The dance was so soft and subtle between the two that they forgot where they were, the place and the music belonged to them, every movement, as well as that unique moment, Molly would never forget it, she had never felt that way, she would never forget his warm and soft hands, the sweetness in his look, those deep blue eyes, without saying anything, she put her head on his shoulder, it was an intimate moment, there was nothing to say, they sought some consolation from that which was impossible, both danced around the room to the beat of the soft music almost they hypnotized by it, their thoughts were far away but at the same time united, as if they were separated by different era, they didn't belong in time, that's how they felt, Mycroft, he never imagined such a moment in his life, he enjoyed every second of Molly's company until the music was over, it had to end, and he knew it, they both stayed together, she could feel the Mycroft's heart trying to get out of his chest, and Molly didn't want to leave.

-"Will not you invite me to dance too, dear brother?" - The voice interrupted the moment and Mycroft looked at Eurus, immediately Molly let go of his hand.

- "Yes ...yes…of course" - said uncomfortable Mycroft.

- "I think I should leave, it's too late" - said Molly taking her cup of tea.

- "Stay Molly ... it's just jealousy from my little sister" - said Sherlock trying to relax the tension, and dropped his body on the couch - "I did not know that you dance too, Myc" - concluded Sherlock.

Mycroft looked seriously at Sherlock, he would never hurt his baby brother, after Sherrinford, after the "I love you", the official knew that Molly and Sherlock must be together, and also the time had passed for him, tired he sighed deeply trying calm down his heart, he walk once across the room to the record player, and chose a song for Eurus, her little sister had never danced, Mycroft finally smiled and she jumped into his arms, the big brother was beginning to get used to this new facet of his life, to be an affectionate big brother, to be part of his family, to be an big brother present, Sherlock started recording how his two siblings danced , maybe he would try one day, he look at Molly and she took his arm, John joined them more than surprised, none of those present would forget this special night, this Christmas night.

The time passed as quickly as could be expected, the snow had melted almost completely, and as an omen Sherlock knew that things would definitely change in his life, three weeks ago that Eurus had moved to the third floor of Baker Street along with Mycroft , he could not deny it, he was happy, he had John and Rosie on the floor, his big brother had finally gotten away with it, the detective looked at the photos of his unusual birthday sitting by the window, a smile on his face, on January 6, Mycroft made a little surprise party to him in his little cottage in Chichester, they walked through Witterings Beach, it was an unforgettable afternoon for the detective, after years they were a family and not only in concept, It was real.

Car downstairs. M

He looked out the window, the black car was waiting for him, he kept his cell phone in the pocket, excitedly put on his coat, and the detective would never suspect, there was no reason, the auto stopped at The Mall.

- "We were waiting for you, Sherlock" - Lady Smallwood said softly, hiding her nervousness. Sherlock subtly looked around the  Mycroft's office, he was sitting at his desk, Lady Smallwood and Eurus sitting in front of him - "Please, take a seat" - There was nothing to infer, the variable to consider in the equation, Eurus, his little sister , and Mycroft, he had made his last calculation, it was something to be expected.

- "Why am I here, Mycroft?" - asked the detective quickly, and Mycroft looked to the side, he knew that this would be more difficult than he expected, it was convenient to be direct and precise, he didn't want to leave doubt or loose ends. He stopped and looked at his desk, took his coat and for the first time had noticed the absence of his umbrella, walked around the desk and put his hands on the shoulders of his little sister.

- "Come on, Eurus ..." - the government official spoke softly encouraging his little sister, Eurus walked to the seat of Mycroft and sat down, Sherlock looked down - "Sherlock, I just signed my retirement" - Mycroft turned to look at the detective - "Since tomorrow our little sister will take my place in the British government, she has acquired enough experience that she will not let us down" - he added proudly of his words.

- "Eurus will not only help us in internal matters, it will also ask you for help in some cases" - added Lady Smallwood. Eurus looked at Sherlock with a smile, silently watching the events; he knew it would not be easy for the detective to accept it.

- "I and Eurus will solve cases together now, Mycroft?" - The sarcasm in Sherlock's voice baffled Mycroft who uncomfortably looked away and ran his hand over his face. It had only been a few weeks since Christmas and the health of his big brother had deteriorated to the point that it was untenable for him to go to the government cabinet every day, Mycroft felt completely useless and frustrated, he spent most of the day in company Sherlock and his parents, and he knew he had to put an end to this, a retirement was not in his plans, but the big brother just wanted to spend more time with his family.

- "Yes, Sherlock, that's right, my siblings will work together ... in the same way that I and you have done it for years" - concluded Mycroft firmly and without any expression, as cold as always, were his final words. - "Surely, you have a lot to talk about ... I'll wait outside" - he looked at his office with nostalgia for the last time, and winked at his little sister, Sherlock didn't look at him when Mycroft closed the door behind him, the big brother felt somehow one more chapter was closed, he should not leave loose ends, he should not leave his family without protection, while Eurus was there she could take care of them, she promised him. he take out a cigarette, it was what he did every time he got home, every time Mycroft had a meeting or made a decision, he knew that the  overwork would kill him slowly, he inhaled the smoke in his lungs and he started to cough, he was getting more difficult to catch your breath.

- “Brother Mine, do you feel nostalgic about suicide again as in your childhood?”- Sherlock looked at him with fury- “Mycroft, you're stupid!" - Sherlock quickly hit his brother's hand, and the cigarette flew through the air falling a few meters away.

- " You know that an idea is like a virus, it will never leave you really free ...also I’m an adult person, Sherlock" - exclaimed Mycroft annoyed while taking another cigarette.

- "You are a person who doesn't care that others, like me, make efforts to take care of you while you keep killing yourself, Myc" - Sherlock took the cigarette box and kept it in his pocket with rage, Mycroft did not answer and support his body on the wall, he was tired and depressed, he needed to be honest once more, his only friend had always been his little brother, many of his thoughts he had shared with him, but Mycroft just could not find the precise words. He turned his head after a few long minutes of silence and looked at Sherlock.

- "I really care..." - Sherlock sighed deeply while adjusting his scarf - "Sherlock, maybe I should start the arrangements for my funeral ..." - The little brother looked at him exasperated and brought the hands to his face, without even thinking about it he approached it enough to Mycroft to see his deep blue eyes.

- "Yes, Mycroft, you should do it ..." - Sherlock said coldly and angrily, the big brother always managed to somehow upset him, but this time Mycroft had been sincere. - "Do what you want" - it was the distant and indifferent answer, Sherlock did not wait, climbed the stairs as fast as he could, just thinking that in his flat would be Rosie and John, they are his greatest comfort.

The last two weeks, Mycroft had spent a few days at his parents' house, enjoying his retirement, and Sherlock planned to travel that day and meet his siblings, but John moved Sherlock's arm, the detective had fallen asleep on the couch, confused, he sat up quickly and ran his hands through his hair and eyes, he felt tired, weak as never before, there were days when he only slept briefly.

- "Sherlock, don’t you hear the ring of your mobile cell? ..." - John spoke almost whispering, the detective looked at him in the dark trying to find his cell phone, John's eyes were of concern, and Sherlock could feel that something very bad had happened.

- "What's the matter?" - Sherlock closed his eyes, a shooting pain was like a dagger in his head, and the headache was intense.

- "Do you feel good?" - John asked.

- "Yes, tell me what happens ..." - said Sherlock.

- "Mycroft is in the hospital" - Sherlock held his breath almost instantly and a cold shiver ran down his spine. - "Eurus called me, after calling you about 15 times ..." -

- "How is my brother, John?" – He asks worried.

- "They do not know yet, Eurus said: that your brother had pass out... a car is waiting for you ...that’s all I know" - the younger brother dropped his face in his hands - "Sherlock, this will happen more and more often, you know, right?"- John put his hand on Sherlock's shoulder; the little affection was more than enough. - "I've never been through something like that, but I can only tell you don’t forget ... you're not alone ... you have me, and your brother have you, he needs you now" - said John wisely, he was right - "do you want me to go with you?"-

- "Thanks John" - Sherlock smiled sadly as he glanced at him - "No, take care of Rosie ... I'll call you" - Sherlock stood and took his cell phone, the incoming calls from his parents and little sister, more than 20, he sighed deeply, his chest tightened, sure this was serious.

The damp floor, the cold east wind streamed through the streets of London, Sherlock from the St Barth's rooftop watched the saddest dawn until now, the sky lit up in the clouds, and the city that had housed him for years was beginning to awaken, he looked at the mobile phone, the messages and calls kept coming, he was unable to answer, he was unable to speak, sure, John, Molly, Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson already knew it, Sherlock only had to do one more thing, talk with Mycroft, the two brothers had passed by a lot and the detective still didn't give up, helpless without being able to change the destiny and save Mycroft, he took with strength the railing that separated him from the precipice, with rage he began to kick the door again and again until he fell to the floor tired and dejected

- "Here you are ...!" - exclaimed Eurus, his little sister was silent for a moment - "Mycroft told me I could find you here" - Eurus sat next to Sherlock, took his hand  - "He also told me that ... he wants to see you" - Sherlock rested his head on the wall, watched as the clouds moved across the sky.

- "I cannot do it ..." - Sherlock's voice broke - "I cannot stand to see him suffer ... Eurus, I just cannot ..." - Sherlock swallowed down a lump in his throat.

- "I know, Sherlock ... just do it for him, we don’t have much time" - Sherlock put both hands to his face, and part of the dim sunlight illuminated his face.

-“Did you ever think that Mycroft would become a loving big brother? “-Sherlock asked while looking at his little sister.

-“Never…”- Eurus' eyes moistened –“… not in one million years, but I was wrong, Sherlock, very wrong”- Her look was one of deep sadness, resignedly she sighed briefly.

-“ I was also wrong, I think that Mycroft really always was ... we just couldn't see him ... “-Eurus stood next to his brother, rests her head on his shoulder and takes his arm tightly –“Now… we lose him again”- a mixture of emotions ran through his mind and he wanted to think that this was just a bad dream.

-“Myc will always be with us… How could we forget our loving older brother?”-   Eurus closed his eyes, letting himself be carried away by the emotions.

Sherlock could feel as his body fell numb at every step he walked, his parents looked at him with tenderness, Molly and Lestrade hugged him as he passed, the consulting detective opened the door trying to cause as little noise as possible, his brother was surrounded by machines once again monitoring every reaction of his ill body, the little brother sat next to Mycroft's bed and Sherlock looked at him incessantly.

-"Hey Bro!" - Sherlock said trying to feign happiness when seeing Mycroft began to wake up - "How do you feel, brother mine?" - Mycroft just winked at him and smiled weakly, the detective struggling to control his emotions, the sadness invaded him and seeing his brother like this, destroyed him once more. - "Do you want to drink water?" - Sherlock asked, but Mycroft took the hand of his little brother, the detective turned to look at him.

- "Take me ... home" - said Mycroft barely, his breathing became difficult and Sherlock carefully helped him to fit the oxygen mask, finally nodded and with his hand tenderly began to caress the head of his big brother until that Myke falling asleep again, Sherlock’s eyes got wet, he couldn't help it, by the time Sherlock started assimilating what the doctor had told him, Mycroft's heart and his kidneys were so compromised that a transplant was unfeasible, nothing else could be done for him, Mycroft would die soon, neither the power nor the money nor the deductive abilities of Sherlock could avoid it, Mycroft was dying, and Sherlock how could refuse the last wishes of his big brother, Sherlock promised to him before Mycroft was secluded in a the mental institution, that day, he hug him in one of the cabinet office's interrogation rooms, how he could forget it, home sweet home.

One week before spring

Chichester, the final resting place, the place where Mycroft had always found peace, escaping from London, his reality and everything he hated, spent entire nights lying in the sand in complete solitude observing the stars, just accompanied by a cigar in one hand and from a glass of whiskey in the other one, Mycroft for years became so accustomed to loneliness, flooding his emptiness with only thoughts, machinations, he was a dragon more Sherlock should had to hunt, he often thought that he would die alone that some people would find his body a few days later in a state of decomposition, but the reality was different, he turned his head slowly and Rose Watson, she played with a bucket with sand , a few meters away was John, Eurus and his mother talking animatedly, surely his father would be setting the table for dinner, Sherlock and Molly together dipping their feet in the cold waters of the Celtic Sea, like a painting freshly painted Mycroft closed his eyes keeping the perfect image as a precious memory, this is the moment he wanted to remember when the time will came, his family, the sound of the sea, and the warm south wind that gently hit his face.

-“Ok, listen to me Watson now!”- Mycroft looked with great seriousness at the little girl -“Seneca says: No one can lead a happy life, or even one that is bearable, without the pursuit of wisdom, and that the perfection of wisdom is what makes the happy life, although even the beginnings of wisdom make life bearable... Yes this conviction, clear as it is, needs to be strengthened and given deeper roots through daily reflection; making noble resolutions is not as important as keeping the resolutions you have made already...”- Rosie had thrown away to "Sebastian the Crab" with which she played while Mycroft was reading, the big brother wrinkled his forehead - " this cannot continue this way, Watson, our relationship is not working, I'm reading philosophy for you, I need you to reflect on your life, but no, you're like your obstinate mother, Watson" - he said almost whispering, the little girl smiled, while raising her arms for Mycroft to take her in his arms, Mycroft simply couldn't help it, this burned his heart,  the big brother accommodated his nasal cannula and he handed her the toy again, he put aside the book, Letters from a Stoic - Seneca, the same book that his therapist had recommended; it seemed that this was years ago, Mycroft sat up with difficulty, breathing deeply from the effort and started coughing.

- "Do you have difficulty breathing?" - Sherlock crouched and watched his brother, Mycroft shook his head, - "Ok ..." - he said worried, he know that Mycroft was lying and averting his gaze - "How are you doing with this little human?" - Sherlock asked as he touched Rosie's face.

- "Excellent ... she doesn't bother me, she doesn't speak...it is the most important thing and it is much better company than I could say my own siblings when they were children ..." - Mycroft feeling tired and Sherlock laughed.

- "You're a liar, brother dear; I think it's time to go back to home... Myc" - wrinkling his forehead, Mycroft made an effort to breathe, a few days ago Mycroft had become dependent on oxygen for 24 hours, the Mycroft's health deteriorates too fast, at night he could only sleep with the help of morphine, it made his breathing easier, and Sherlock stayed with him as much as possible, his brother's life vanished like water between his fingers.

- "I would like to see the sunset ..." – it seemed harder to swallow for him that before.

- "Are you okay, Myc?" - asked his mother, Mycroft sighed deeply.

- "I could run the London marathon without any problem ... dear mother" - he said sarcastically.

- "Don't play smart with me!, Myc, it's enough for me that you tell me, you're fine" - Mummy Holmes crouches mournfully and fixes the collar of Mycroft's shirt.

- "Mum ... for god sake!" - exclaimed Mycroft uncomfortably.

- "its better that you leave her, Myc..." - said Eurus smiling.

- "You can be 50 years old, Mycroft, but you still have difficulties to fix your shirt ... I'll bring you a blanket" - she said imperatively.

- "49 years will be this year ..." - Mycroft paused, he knew he wouldn't be in July, on July 7 is his birthday, by then he would be part of the inventory of the cemetery, but the words and his hidden desires flowed faster, his mother quickly got up and started walking to the house between sobs accompanied by Eurus, John took Rosie and Molly walk next to him.

-“Try working on sensitivity, Mycroft!”- Sherlock dropped, buried his fingers in anger in the still warm, soft sand, thinking, just thinking about what his brother had said.

The last few minutes, the warm light reaching his pale skin felt good and Mycroft somehow knew that this would be his last sunset, he looked at his brother who also contemplated the beautiful landscape, his look was sad, he knew that Sherlock needed talk, Mycroft was not good for this, while waiting the precise moment, the stars began to appear slowly on the horizon, it would be a moonless night, the night began to fall and finally all lightning of light disappeared in the firmament, the big brother bowed his head.

- "I'm terrified ..." - He said as he took a handful of sand in his hand, Sherlock turned his surprised face without understanding what his brother was talking about. - "I'm afraid of dying ... Sherlock" - from the depth of his heart was what he felt, being more human, in a society where pretending was the best and of course, without repressing himself he keep hoping that at some point, Sherlock would the same, Sherlock took Mycroft's hand tightly and looked away, he did not want his big brother to see him, his throat tightened with each breath, then a few minutes fighting against his feelings he looked at the starry sky, Sherlock broke the silence between them.

- "I don't want you to die ..." - The voice of his little brother damaged him, Sherlock turned his face away and the wind moved his hair - "I did ... everything I could for you, but still it was not enough ... I could not save you, Myc, I could not, I'm sorry...I'm sorry "- Mycroft hugged his little brother. - "I don't know ... what I will do without you, Myc" –

- "Look at me ... you saved me Sherlock, You avoided that I getting to kill Victor Trevor that night, you prevented from I falling further into that deep darkness" - he said softly, his eyes shining in the darkness, Mycroft with his hands clean Sherlock's face. - "It is not your fault ... it has never been, my little brother" - he breathe deeply - "Sherlock, you're strong because you know that you are imperfect and you are wise because you always have doubts ... that is why you are better man than me, I've always known it since we were kids, my weaknesses have been my condemnation, none of this is your fault, do you understand?" - Sherlock felt that his chest was relieved with every word of Mycroft. - "When I'm not you will continue to do what you do, solving cases with John, bothering our parents...and special this one...please promise me that"- Sherlock finally smiled - "but about one thing, I'm not complete sure if you will be the mother or father figure of Rosie  ... I cannot yet deduce it" - both brothers laughed together.

- "Don't be silly, Mycroft!" - Exclaimed laughing and Mycroft continued.

 - "You will be an excellent father, Sherlock, I watched you with Rosie ..." -

- "I've learned from you ..." - Both brothers looked at each other.

- "What I'm trying to tell you is that ... if you remember me one day, you can always find me in your mind and in your memories, little brother, in your mind, I'll always be there for you" - Sherlock smiled sadly, breathing heavily, relieving his anguish - "I'll be waiting for you, my old friend, ... I hope not too soon, not too soon "- concluded Mycroft kissing his forehead. The darkness came so quickly, some boats in the distance could be seen, boats crossing the English Channel, it did not take too long until Eurus joined them, the three siblings lay down in the warm sand, looking at the dark immensity of the universe, they had never shared such a moment before, they had never had an opportunity until that night.

March Equinox

Sherlock looked at the picture of both for the last time, sitting on his bed, he felt he was going to faint at any moment, his heart was pounding in his chest, the detective looked at the contents of the syringe through the dim light of the candle, he was desperate, he knew what he had to do but he resisted reality, with his hands shaking he put the syringe in his pocket, by the time he left the room, his family was gathered in the great hall, the fireplace was lit , but he ignored all signs, even his parents seemed to be absent, the mental and physical pain was too intense.

- "Drugs do not work ..." - said John trying to control his emotions, Mycroft had been hours with an insufficient saturation, he was drowning with his own fluids; pulmonary edema in a couple of hours was inevitable.

- "Increase the dose of morphine ..." - said Papa Holmes anguished.

- "It will cause him an arrhythmia that his heart could not bear, and then an overdose...." - added Molly.

- Overdose ... - Sherlock thought, he had already thought it, far from all ethics, John looked at him with concern and noticed that his friend moved his hand in his pocket as touching something obsessively.

- "We could try inserting a chest tube into his lungs ... before yesterday he gave results ..." - Sherlock closed his eyes and remembered his brother's pain, the medical procedure was so aggressive that it ended up weakening Mycroft even more.

- "No ... no more ..." - Sherlock leaned on the wall while his family looked at him with surprise, he understood that continuing the palliative treatment would only be an agony for his brother - "Mycroft is in pain, he is suffering, just like us ... "- The heartbreaking words of the little brother only made his mother begin to cry, a cruel truth, a part of Sherlock's soul was dying with him, walked to the door of the room and John took his arm.

- "Sherlock, I know it's a hard time ... but do not do something that you'll regret later ..." - John warned him, Sherlock had seen many dead in his life, trying with them every day, outside or inside the morgue of St Barth, but this is beyond understanding for Sherlock, seeing Mycroft fight for each inhalation, that's destroyed him.

The monitor alarm did not stop ringing, his heart struggled to maintain a normal heartbeat and gasping for breath, Sherlock knew that the moment that had terrified him the most had arrived and he was not yet prepared for the inevitable, he took the chair and placed it together to the bed, Eurus looked at him in anguish, together they had decided to stay with Mycroft as long as possible, he approached Mycroft placed the head of his brother carefully on the pillow, and the big brother opened his eyes somewhat confused by the lack of oxygen, but still smiled when he saw that Sherlock was there.

- "Myc ... is there something I can do for you?" - the impotence in his voice was evident, Mycroft knew what Sherlock meant, they never spoke about it, but he knew his little brother so well that there was not much that deduct in your question, Mycroft slowly took his hand, he wasn't going to let that happen, Sherlock bear the guilt of his death.

- "Play for me ..." - it was all that Mycroft could say, Sherlock nodded, was willing to do anything for him, both siblings looked at each other in the same way they had when they were in Sherrinford, facing each other. The soft sound of Eurus's violin crossed the walls of the room, his parents, Lestrade, John and Molly could hear and it was like a balm to their anguish, Sherlock took a few seconds until he decided to raise the bow and joined her in canon, the music in many ways for Mycroft expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent, and he knew that his siblings needed it, each note was a consolation even for Mycroft who was beginning to fall into a deep sleep, after hours of not being able to sleep, he finally gave in to the sound of the strings while outside it started to rain once more.

By the time he woke up he could only hear the monitor ringing and the waves crashing on the shore of the beach, and Mycroft had the strange feeling that he had died, but only the pain in his chest and the lack of air finally proved to him that he was wrong, the big brother made an effort and opened his eyes, there was still darkness in the place, it was not raining, he noticed that at the end of the room was Eurus lying on the sofa and John sitting in a corner both sleeping, Sherlock was right, he was not alone anymore, his baby brother had his head on the bed and was holding his hand, he looked uncomfortable and tired, Mycroft smiled tenderly, put his hand on Sherlock’s head, and just began to caress him, it was all the love that could give him, without regrets, it had been his best months of his life, and Mycroft was grateful in every sense of the word, were long minutes where he was reunited with the past of his bad and good memories, vanishing one by one, words and wounds.

-"Myc? ..." - Sherlock said as he wiped his eyes, trying to recover himself he looked at Mycroft who was watching him with a sweet smile, the little brother did not stop looking at him as if trying not to forget his face and his voice.

- "I'm ready ..." - Mycroft squeezed his brother's hand, Sherlock gulped, realizing the Mycroft's words and looking at the ceiling tried to control himself. - "Take me ... see… the dawn ..." - Mycroft said trying to take off the oxygen mask.

- "Let me help you ... old friend mine" - Sherlock stood and his hands trembled, watched him a few seconds.

The roses and damp soil impregnated the whole garden with a sweet scent that morning, the clouds had disappeared from the horizon and the stars began to fade one after another, the sound of the sea and the mist was all they had in front of them. The first day of spring and it seemed that the cold had dissipated, it was a perfect day, they was completely alone, Sherlock started to follow the path with the wheelchair where there was a small view of the beach, surrounded by grass and trees, and in between from it a bench, in silence Sherlock squatted next to Mycroft removing him the blanket on his feet.

Mycroft needs to say it, even if his brother knew, if he was sure of something, his last words would be for Sherlock, and he had thought about it for months, finally he looked at him. - "I love you ... brother ... mine" - he said weakly, barely breathed. Sherlock stood motionless and gritted his teeth, there was nothing he could do and without being able to continue fighting, he began to cry.

- "I love you too ... I'll miss you, Myc" - he rested his head on Mycroft's chest, listening for the last time his heart and let himself go, tears came to the big brother's face, nobody said it would be easy, but he felt no more fear, both tried to seek consolation, the little brother, he took a deep breath, Sherlock hold to Mycroft in his lap.

The wind was blowing from the south, Mycroft turned his face, and he remembered that afternoon with his brothers looking at the stars, tried uselessly to take a deep breath for the last time, released the little air he had in his lungs, Mycroft cannot feel his body, but if the weak sunlight, that small warm moment on his skin, was his last dawn, he took Sherlock's hand and Mycroft decided to close his eyes, the detective embraced him with strength, like he wanted to retain forever this moment, his heartbeat diminished, the anguish of the little brother increased and he did not want him to leave without knowing that he remembered him. - No, Mycroft, I do not remember ... do not insist -

- "That night I got run away to the forest, I remember it as if it were yesterday" - whispered in Mycroft's ear as his breathing weakened more and more - "I walked for one hour away as far as possible ... by the time you found me, I was lying with a blanket next to a tree "- Sherlock looked at the face of Mycroft that seemed to sleep peacefully -" I remember that you were happy to find me and that you were not angry, not disappointed, you wrapped me in your coat and you took me on your back the rest of the way, when we got home was dawning like now, the same color in the sky "- Sherlock's voice broke, - "Our mother grounded you ... she blame you for what happened and... I just kept quiet" - Mycroft made a slight sound trying to breathe and Sherlock tightened his hands - "The truth is that that night I did not go out to count stars ... I remember that you were traveling that morning to school at London for first time, and I knew you would go looking for me, despite the darkness, no matter the distance, and I knew you would lose your bus ticket ... and I did not want you to leave home, Myc, I didn't want to lose my brother, but always you come back to home, every time that I saw you, I wanted to have enough time and courage to tell you, that you mean a lot to me, that I didn't want you to say me: goodbye ... just: See you later, brother mine!, just like now...”- Sherlock put his hand on Mycroft's heart, his irregular heartbeat gave him the signal – “I’ll not forget you, Brother mine, I’ll see you soon, Myc"- The little brother looked at Mycroft's face in peace, his words were his own consolation and just Mycroft breathed for the last time, Sherlock dropped his head while tears fell down his cheeks and he hold him as if he were going to lose him, only that this time it was real, Sherlock stayed there hugging him for long minutes, he tried to pacify his pain but it was impossible, the waves kept hitting and the sun finally came out on the horizon behind hills, but to Sherlock didn't matter the existence of anything else around him.

Mycroft had been wrong for the last time - Brother Mine, you must accept the nature of life, you and I will bury our parents, I will die before you and possibly Eurus will bury you, I do not understand why you still worry about that. - These words came to his memory while in front of him was Mycroft's coffin. The funeral was private, a small number of people arrived, only the closest ones, there were no great speeches, only Lady Smallwood spoke, there weren't many flowers but if a green meadow, the place was on a small hill, next to a leafy and old tree, the wind moved the leaves without stopping and you could see part of London from there, and Baker Street, as if Mycroft still wanted to observe his little siblings from that beautiful place, Sherlock smiled sadly at the thought of this, Mycroft always put on eye for details  and Sherlock did not doubt that this was so.

Since the death of Mycroft, the detective spent all day locked in his room, he didn't want to see anyone, and at nights sat by the window, waiting for something or someone, John looked from the kitchen to his friend with concern, he was suffering in silence too, but John never imagined the impact that the death of the big brother would have for him, from hatred to love, that was the relationship between John and Mycroft, John finally recognized that he admired all the dedication, the love that Mycroft had for his family and especially for his siblings, Mycroft was also his family and it seemed that Sherlock didn't consider this option or any other.

- "Just, time, patience and a lot of love, John" - were the words of Mrs. Hudson, it had been three weeks since the death of Mycroft, she took out of a box two packages wrapped in a beautiful brown paper, the doctor looked at her curious - "John, did you really think that Mycroft would leave his little siblings without past and present?" –

Sherlock couldn’t sleep, he looked at the syringe, still contained the crystalline liquid, morphine, but closed his eyes fighting, the little brother had made a promise, his last promise, he sat uncomfortably on the edge of the bed, he look the photo, it was a ritual, Sherlock could not stop seeing Mycroft, and his heart was breaking every time, he walked across the corridor in the darkness, and the detective saw the little package in front of him on the table, it had his name on it, It was not difficult for him to identify Mycroft's handwriting, Sherlock took the package in his arms and sat down by the window, he stood there watching as the cars and people passed, until finally it began to dawn, he sighed deeply, releasing all the anguish on his chest, and slowly opened it, a book and there was a small note on it.

My little Brother, Sherlock.

There is a meadow in my perfect world.

Where wind dances the branches of the tree...

The tree stands tall...and.. grand and alone, shading the world beneath it.

There will come a day when I rest against its spine and look out over a valley where the sun warms, but never burns.

I will watch leaves turn...green, then amber, then crimson.

Then no leaves at all...but the tree will not die.

For in this place, winter never comes...

It is here, in the cradle of all I hold dear, I guard every memory of you, brother mine.

And when I find myself frozen in the mud of the real far from your loving eyes, I will return to

this place, close mine, and take solace in the simple perfection of knowing you, Sherlock.

Love you, Myc.

Sherlock read again and again the words of Mycroft, until the tears didn't allow him to continue reading, the little brother waited a few minutes and wiped his face with the sleeve of his blue dressing gown, opened what appeared to be a book, on each sheet there were photos of when they were children, his parents, Eurus, Mycroft, even Victor Trevor and Uncle Rudy appeared in some ones, it were photos of Musgrave, Sherlock slowly began to remember, the memories were diffuse but increasingly clear, a permanent smile began to draw on his face, and some joy in his heart, he would finally build his past, and in a small footnote written by Mycroft on the last page, - Here the memories of your past, Eurus has those of your present, brother mine – Sherlock never mentioned that Mycroft died in his arms, he didn't talk about Mycroft's death until his last days, his parents and friends, they understood him, it was Sherlock's way of carrying on his grief, John knew that every night Sherlock was reunited with his big brother in his mental palace, and in Sherlock’s mind, Mycroft had never really died, sometimes the consulting detective spoke of him as if Mycroft were still present, the love between them was too much to let it go.

A few weeks later.

John stood up from the bench and Sherlock followed him, both friends started walking, from the same bench he was sitting on when Mike Stamford spoke to him that day, that day that would change his life, minutes before meeting Sherlock, John looked around it, Russell Square Gardens, he smiled thinking about everything the Holmes siblings had taught him, Sherlock look at the note in it had written an address - 17 Northington St. don't think about it anymore, John. M - it was the last note of Mycroft for John, he smiled slightly, it was ironic for him to think that despite their differences, despite the lies and family secrets, of what the pain of the past implied, the Holmes siblings stayed together after of all these years, the love between them was stronger, and if there was anything John could do was understand this simple fact.

Northington was a small, lonely street very close to the Charles Dickens museum,- "I think I'll get until here, John" - With his hands in the pockets of the coat, Sherlock stopped at the corner, John nodded and the detective looked at the cloudy sky, it was about to rain, soon the autumn would begin,

- "John? The umbrella! - Sherlock exclaimed almost shouting, John walked up to his friend - "You will not need it after all" - said Sherlock smiling.

- "I'll return by cab or I'll call you" - John answered quickly, moved his hands restlessly.

-“You’ll be fine ... stop worrying, John …”- Sherlock said confidently, after he watch that his friend was unable to control himself. –“besides… What's the worst that could happen?”-

-“Do people change?”- John asked as he fixed his tie.

-“Yes, John, naturally…well, as Mycroft says: balance of probability”- Sherlock's eyes gleamed and John looked at him tenderly.  

He stood in front of the porch, somewhat nervous and undecided, and for the first time in a long time he felt afraid, John didn't want to be rejected once again, turned his face and there was still Sherlock standing at the corner, and he decided to ring the bell, the seconds were eternal, he could feel his heart beating, John breathe deeply and listen to those distinctive steps and the door slowly opened.

- "You missed me, Harriet?" - John said nervously, his eyes shining with emotion, she instead said nothing, looked at him for a few seconds and finally extended her arms to receive her brother, John hug her tightly, she kissed him on the cheek and quickly took his hand.

Sherlock saw John disappear behind the door, probably the conversation would last for hours between John and Harriet, and the little brother looked at Mycroft's umbrella, sighed deeply with nostalgia and sadness - "Let's take a walk, Myc!" - he said smiling despite all, slowly the first drops of rain began to fall and the detective opened the umbrella as he walked along the Thames's Riviera, he pressed the coat to his chest, looked at his hand, the ring was still there, in the wake the memories resurfaced in his mind, in every corner of London, the walks from Baker Street to Diogenes Club, or when together they went to eat Chinese food, he looked at his side and although there was nobody there he could feel Mycroft next to him - I'll always be there for you - Sherlock bowed his face and just smiled sweetly, in the distance the detective saw his sister who started running towards him, Eurus took his arm, the figure of both siblings began to disappear among the tourists and Londoners who were walking through in Westminster Abbey at that time, the darkness came, but it was something natural, like always, the lights were reflected in the waters of the deep river, and the wind in its wake moved the leaves of the trees that fell to the ground, it one after the other until the noise of the city start disappeared finally.

THE END

~ Like I'm gonna lose You  by  xSoulx ~