I do not own BBC Sherlock. Mycroft's Point Of View.

Grave

By waterrain

I looked at the grave stone 'Sherlock Holmes' the sight of it silently breaks my heart. It is a chilly night, the moon is full, and I had decided against a coat. The cold air chills my bones, but also keeps tears from falling. I'm a failure as a brother. I'm a horrible older brother and I tighten my grip on my arms.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock. I know you would not want my help, but I should have just helped you for I know that you will always resent me in the end." I said while looking at my brother's grave.

"I found out from the newspaper…Fake genius suicide. No one called or informed me. I found out from the newspaper. No one asked me to identify your body." I commented quietly and my body felt like cold, but it doesn't matter for my only sibling is dead and it is my fault. "I'm slightly grateful for then I can hold a little hope that you are somehow still alive. When you were a small child you wanted to be a magician, but then after about two years wanted to become a pirate."

"I'm sorry for every wrong that happened to you because of me." I said after taking a shaky breath and a few tears escaped from my eyes. "I wish that I could have been a better big brother to you. It is too late to try and fix anything for you are no longer among the living."

"My oh my how sentimental you are brother dear." The voice sounds like my brother, but I dare not turn around for I might be hearing things and closed my eyes. "For goodness sake you are not hearing voices inside your head and like you had mentioned…You were not called or asked to identify my body, Mycroft."

I opened my eyes and right in front of me was my younger brother, Sherlock. I grabbed him and held him tight just to see if he is really there along with being relieved to see that he is alive not dead.

"I wouldn't have showed myself if I knew you would hug me, brother." Sherlock gasped out, I looked at him, and after a moment released him.

"Does anyone else know that you are still alive?"

"No and I would prefer to keep it that way. Sadly, I couldn't keep myself from revealing to you that I'm alive due to hearing your words….I couldn't resist calling you sentimental, but oh well make sure to keep me being alive a secret." Sherlock replied and he looked at me with a slight smirk. "Were you trying to catch a death of a cold?"

"Perhaps for if I was dead then I wouldn't feel any sort of guilt or anything." I informed him and he gave me a look. "Perhaps Sherlock, the world would be a better place without me being in it."

"Mycroft do stop speaking nonsense it is not becoming of you. What would the world do without the British Government?"

"I would not be missed, Sherlock. Do you want to know my first thought that entered inside of my mind when I was alone? I wished it had been me. Anyway, I will not tell anyone about your current status." I said calmly and Sherlock was frowning at me.

"When did you become-"

"When I found out from the newspaper that you committed suicide by jumping off from a tall building." I told him, rubbed my forehead, and glanced at my younger brother. "What would you do if you found out from a newspaper that I committed suicide?"

Sherlock remained quiet, he turned, and walked away from me. I wiped my slightly damp cheeks and at least my brother is still among the living. There is still time to right the wrongs.

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