[Zhongyingmei] Younger brother

It seems that from the beginning of the teens, Sherlock's growth has been hidden from Mycroft's sight, and it is still the same until now.

They are a pair of brothers. Mycroft believes that this has always been the case. Unlike other relationships, this relationship will last from birth to death. Mycroft has reason to believe that as long as he is alive, he will protect his brother. .Whether it's life, or letting him live his own way of life.

This is only occasionally when McCoff thinks about some emotional issues. He thinks this way, because in actual life, there is no need for an emotional life. Those loves that will be a burden and cannot be realized are useless and emotional. Not an advantage.

Mycroft, who pays attention to practical effects, even helped his younger brother find a house in the countryside. If he likes it, he can rely on the sea. If he doesn't like it, he can find a place to keep bees. Maybe he can use it after they retire. .

However, it is gradually uncertain whether there will be a day when it will be truly realized. Sherlock does not grow up as Mycroft expected. He is like a small sapling. The rotten Mycroft will cut it, but there are some places that McCoff doesn't understand, so he can't start, and finally he can only let it go, like Sherlock's desire to make friends.

Mycroft didn't know exactly how to make friends, he hadn't made friends, he was pretty sure he didn't want to make friends with idiots, and even if no friends would invite McCoff to spend Christmas, he didn't care too much about it.

At Christmas time, there was a little snow over London again, and the fluorescent white lights were very beautiful under the flickering lights.

Mycroft was alone at home, with the fire burning warm, in the rare moments of leisure, with no one, no job, no family.Because his subordinates also needed to celebrate the holidays, Mycroft sent the driver who was sent to pick up Sherlock half a day earlier on vacation. Sherlock didn't go home, and neither did McCoff.

Just when Mycroft thought he would fall asleep by the fireplace, his cell phone rang suddenly.

"Jesus, don't tell me you're calling to celebrate Christmas? Any new laws passed?" Mycroft never thought he'd hear about Merry Christmas from his little brother, did he? What about the law that says Merry Christmas?

"You should find Irene Adler tonight." Sherlock's tone was very certain.

"We already know where she is." Mycroft has been in charge of this matter. "You have also kindly reminded me that it is basically harmless." McCoff got up and stood outside the window. The snow had already covered the ground white. It sounds like the right weather for Christmas fun.

"No, I mean you'll find her body."

The phone hung up simply, and McCoff turned the phone in his hand, thinking whether Irene was really going to die, or what was going to happen to this woman, but gradually he didn't know where he thought, and returned to the fireplace again until another phone call interrupted his Christmas and dragged Mycroft away from the warmth of the fireplace.

After receiving the news that this woman died pitifully during Christmas, Mycroft asked them to send the body to St. Bahan Lomy's Hospital, which is the hospital where Molly Amber, who had a crush on his young brother, was given to him by McCoff. The younger brother called and told him the news, Sherlock was silent for a long time.

"Is it her?" Sherlock asked suddenly.

McCoff also didn't know, "I don't know, maybe it is, but maybe it's not, do you want to take a look?"

"Okay." Sherlock wanted to see for himself.

Mycroft changed into a suit of clothes, put on his overcoat and gloves, and went to pick up his little brother on Baker Street before going to his destination in the car. Sherlock didn't think of making a sound in the car, he just watched Everything outside the car window, McCoff also did not make a sound, until in the morgue, McCoff said, "The only corpse that fits the description, I asked them to send it here, your other home .”

Sherlock ignored it and talked to Molly. Molly hurriedly explained, "It doesn't matter, everyone else is busy with Christmas anyway..."

"Is it her?"

"Show me the whole body."

Sherlock glanced at the naked body, "It's her!" Then he turned and left. McCoff paused and thanked Molly, but Molly asked nervously, "Who is she? Why can Sherlock get out of the naked body?" Just see who she is?" Mycroft gave her an extremely formulaic smile, then turned and left.

Obviously this Miss Amber is not as good as Irene in Sherlock's heart.

Perhaps growth happens in invisible places. Mycroft looked at Sherlock's back through the small window behind the door. I don't know when Sherlock has grown so tall.In Mycroft's memory palace, the little curly-haired boy was only seven or eight years old, and could only scream all day long, while Sherlock had grown up unconsciously, and had a woman he cared about.

Although he desperately wanted to find a mate for Sherlock, but actually faced with this situation, Mycroft had mixed feelings, his lips twitched, but he didn't know what to say, and unexpectedly wanted to smoke a cigarette.

It didn't matter who the corpse was, at least McCoff could tell that it wasn't Irene Adler, that smart woman who thought she could fool the Holmes brothers by finding a corpse anywhere.

Feeling the strange astringent taste in his mouth, he took out a cigarette that was placed on his body as a display, and Mycroft handed it to Sherlock, "Just this one."

"why?"

"Merry Christmas."

This year it was McCaw who said it again.

Mycroft looked down for the unused lighter, and Sherlock paused for a long time or a few seconds before saying, "Isn't there a law or something about smoking indoors?"

Sherlock has never cared about that kind of thing, and this may be his abnormal reaction after lying to his brother. Mycroft stared at Sherlock's side face, and then used a lighter to help Sherlock light his cigarette, "We are in the morgue , you can’t do much harm.” It’s just you and me, “How do you know she’s dead?”

"There was something in her hand that she said was life-threatening, and she chose to give it up." Sherlock didn't turn his head.

"Where is that thing now?"

Sherlock turned his head and looked outside the door in the distance. People who had lost their loved ones were crying. Mycroft also turned his head. He heard Sherlock say, "Look at them, they have so many things to care about."

Mycroft also watched, unmoved.And in his heart, he evaluated the younger brother's clumsy technique of changing the subject.

"Do you ever wonder if there's something wrong with us【Have you ever wondered if there's something wrong with us?】"

The question that Sherlock once asked, Sherlock has been occasionally emotional since he was a child, maybe because he lived under the aura of Mycroft, he doubted himself in his early years, even when he knew that he was far superior to others.

Mycoff remembers that at that time, Sherlock, who always thought he was an idiot because of the comparison with himself, came back crying and put his arms around Mycoff's neck when he found out that the so-called normal people were stupid and unable to communicate, and asked, "Myc, Is it us?"

There were tears in his eyes, and his light blue eyes became red and swollen. Mycroft still can't forget it. The little curly hair looked aggrieved and sad.

Mycroft said: "No. Mortals are goldfish that occasionally jump out of the water, and we will be the watchmen above the water. Don't be sad because of the talent of geniuses, and don't believe in the pride they have because of stupidity. .”

Mycroft didn't know if other people's brothers would have any kind of answer, because McCoff was no one else, he was just McCoff, he looked at the group of people, unmoved, and didn't even see Sherlock's silence Time to think more.

"Alllives end, all hearts are broken. [Life ends, and hearts are broken.]

Caring is not an advantage. 【Caring too much is not an advantage. 】

Sherlock."

At the end of the day, Mycroft just looks normal in some ways, and he's not normal.

Mycroft stared at Sherlock again, only those who are alive are worth caring about, everything is useless after death, caring is nothing but sadness.

Sherlock turned his head away from Mycroft's gaze, exhaled smoke, and complained about the half-smoked cigarette, "It's low-tar smoke."

"Because you don't know her very well." Mycroft replied, raising his eyebrows, but Sherlock couldn't see him, and he had already turned and left.

"Merry Christmas, Mycroft."

Mycroft leaned on an umbrella, watching the back of his younger brother leaving while smoking.

"Andhappynewyear." Mycroft's tone rose.

The moment Sherlock turned to go out, Mycroft took out his mobile phone and called John, "He's on his way back, did you find anything?"

"No, did he take that cigarette?"

"Yes." Mycroft's voice was low, it was John's idea, to see if Sherlock would come back and take cardaine or something.

"Shit!"

"It seems that he really didn't hide it. We looked for it in all the usual places."

Mycroft also planned to go back, and Irene's affairs still had to be arranged.

"Are you sure he's in danger tonight?"

"No, but I'm not sure, you have to stay with him, John."

"I have an appointment."

"Not."

When John spoke again, he found that Mycroft had hung up the phone, bloody control freak!