Author's Note:

All right, here we are—the bonus material for Mortality! Updates will, as always, be irregular. Please do bear in mind that I will be writing this material as I edit the book. In other words, I'm putting more effort into these scenes than I do for my usual vignettes. Also, this first entry is probably the chronologically last bit of extra material for the book. Enjoy!

© 2012 by Aleine Skyfire.

All rights reserved.

==1. A Time for Everything==

Characters: Sherlock, Mycroft
Rating: T
Word Count: 835
Warnings: Brief discussion of suicide.
Setting: Chapter 25: Together. The Holmes brothers are having their heart-to-heart before they leave Baker Street to be chased by Moran.

"Oh, Mycroft," Sherlock murmured fondly. He could not recall when he had last seen his brother cry, but certainly he must have been a child. Watson labelled him as stoic on occasion—even "positively inhuman," during the Sholto Case—but Sherlock's reserve had always paled in comparison to Mycroft's. To see his elder brother shedding tears now… Sherlock was compelled to avert his gaze before he followed suit.

"Do you know," he said at last, "I have spent the evening contemplating the events of the past two months? Coupled with some remonstrance on Lestrade's part, I have come to some sobering conclusions."

"If they have taught you to take better care of yourself—" Mycroft began sternly.

"Mycroft, please." Sherlock sighed and settled further back in his chair. "What I experienced was horrific, a fate I should not wish upon even those who inflicted it, and Lestrade has given me some idea of the evil that has come of it all." He grimaced as his chest began to ache at the mere thought of it. "I deeply regret that I have not been the only one to suffer for my actions."

It did hurt. Terribly. "A benefactor of the race," Watson had called him just two months earlier, though it seemed a lifetime ago. But how could that be when his recklessness led to the injuries—even deaths—of others?

Mycroft sighed, as well. "Sherlock, in the end, who is to say that all this is truly your fault? You might have been kidnapped or even killed regardless of where you were—being caught out in the early hours of the morning might simply have hastened events that would have happened no matter what."

Sherlock clamped his hand over his mouth against the bile that rose in his throat, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing the acid back down. When he was able to speak again, it was only in a broken voice with which he was all too familiar. "Nevertheless, brother mine, I am well and truly sorry."

"I have already forgiven you, mon petite frère," the elder brother said gently. "And I shall feel the better for hearing these conclusions you've drawn."

The younger inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. "Very well. I… I do not think I realised until now just how much I have taken my own life for granted." Confound his voice for being so shaky… "I have been at Death's door before now, but never as severely and constantly as I have been of late. I am… not immortal." He chuckled—the sound was hollow to his own ears—and shook his head. "Fancy that, eh?

Mycroft said nothing, merely watched him steadily.

Sherlock met his brother's eyes and focused on them. "I freely confess," he murmured, "that in the past, I have contemplated taking my own life."

Mycroft's expression was sorrowful but unsurprised. His brother was the only man to whom Sherlock could admit that, the only man aside from Watson who could understand it… And Sherlock would never burden his dearest friend with such a confidence.

"I considered my life not worth living," Sherlock continued quietly. "Many times, in fact. But I understand something now that I did not before. Were I to die tonight, I would count my brief time on this earth to have been good." He leant forward slightly. "I have had a magnificent life, and I have been too blind, too caught up in darkness, to see it."

"Sherlock…" Mycroft stopped, shook his head, blinked. "I scarcely know what to say."

Sherlock waited a few moments, then said, "To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven. A time to be born—"

"And a time to die," Mycroft finished softly. "A time to love, a time of hate, a time of war, a time of peace."

Sherlock nodded wearily. "Quite so. And that, brother mine, is what I have learnt."

Mycroft gave a solemn nod. "Remember it, then, Sherlock. There is nothing so terrible as having to learn a lesson a second time—it may well be too late to do you any good."

Sherlock Holmes's next words were a promise to carry him through the next several years. "I shan't forget."

"Very well." The solemn moment was broken by Mycroft rising to his feet, the action swifter than it would have been two months ago. "Now come, Sherlock. Time to put on your coat and go."

Sherlock glanced down at his state of dress—namely, his nightshirt and dressing gown—and looked back up at his brother with a raised eyebrow.

"It will have to do," Mycroft said in that brotherly tone that brooked no argument.

The brothers, the doctor, and the inspector were all piling into the cab when they heard the rattle and clip-clop of another cab approaching. Sherlock was struck with a sense of immediate danger and glanced at Watson—his friend's dark eyes were wide beneath drawn brows. "Mycroft, hurry!" Sherlock hissed.

Author's Note:

And so the chase is on! ^_^ If you haven't read Chapter 25 of Mortality then by all means, do so!

Originally, this scene was going to be in Chapter 25, but it was grinding the narrative to a halt. I couldn't figure out how to transition from this intensely-confidential scene to the action scene immediately following. Then I decided to bump the scene to the next chapter, which helped me move on from my writer's block. But it ended up that the scene was really jarring to the rest of the chapter, set between Sherlock's dream and his argument with Mycroft. The contrast between this scene and the argument was far too sharp, and I dropped it out of that chapter, too, deciding to return it to its original chapter and try to transition it better.

It's now significantly cut down—originally, Sherlock read the entire "a time to" passage from Ecclesiastes. This version definitely works better. I hope it works for you, too!

Next up, no idea when, but I hope to bring you the very first scenes at the Tankerville with Watson and Dick Sharon. Stay tuned!

Please review!