Dear Me Mister Holmes (BBC Sherlock Fanfic)

Chapter 1 - Goodbye to Brotherly Compassion

            Sherlock looked down at the open eyes of his brother. Mycroft’s cold hand was clutching his umbrella, and Sherlock almost smiled at the thought of how fond he was of it, but this was no time for smiling. He couldn’t bring himself to smile.

            Sometimes, he had dreamed of this moment, the moment when his brother would finally stop watching him. He thought he would be relieved the moment Mycroft’s surveillance on him stopped. Now that he stared down at his brother’s corpse, he regretted ever fantasizing of such a moment.

            Sherlock kneeled down, and laid his fingers over his brothers eyes, closing them. Death was like sleep, people have told him. It’s just like sleeping. Sherlock didn’t believe them, but he closed Mycroft’s eyes anyway. At least he could pretend his brother was asleep.

            He looked around the room. Nothing was missing or moved. It was the way it had been just twenty minutes ago, when he and his brother had last talked. Sherlock stood up and walked around the room. He checked everything, and looked over everything multiple times. Something had to be different, anything. Someone had been in here; they had to have left something.

            His gaze turned to a chest of drawers to the left of the front door. One of the drawers was open just a tiny bit. He walked over to it, and slid the drawer open. It was empty, except an envelope with a thin rope tied around it. Sherlock slid the rope off and opened the envelope, taking a letter out of it. Before reading it, he looked at the handwriting.

            Female

            Cursive

            Neat

           Writes often

           

            He couldn’t gather much from the writing, so he read it.

           

            Dear me Mister Holmes, it seems I’ve caused quite a lot of trouble. Well, you’ve said you wanted him off your back. You’re welcome.

            I suppose Mycroft’s death isn’t as you thought it would be. Sorry, my dear, but that’s what people do, as Jim Moriarty once said. I miss him; he would have done a better job at this. I’m just following his orders.

            You've got the rest of your life. Come and find me, Mister Holmes.

 

            Although Sherlock knew this was no time to worry about how interesting the case would be, he groaned at the terrible writing. He thought that if his brother were to be murdered, it should at least be an interesting case.

            He set the letter down, and took his phone out of his coat. He dialed a number and held the phone to his ear. After three rings, he received an answer.

            “Sherlock,” Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade asked on the other line. “what’s wrong”

           “Lestrade,” Sherlock said. “I need you to send your best and least irritating officers to 221b. Call John and tell him to come as well.”

            “Why? What’s happened?”

            “My brother had been murdered.”

So, this is just an idea, I don't know if I should continue with it, but I thought I'd try it out. c:

Tell me what you all think of it so far. c: xxx

–OH