Umbrella (Shade and Shelter)

[rabidsamfan]

Once he had accepted shelter as a given, watching the world from the safe harbor of his brother’s shadow. But he had been very small then, and the world had been full of sunlight. No sooner had he looked beyond the gentle shade to the bright green world than he had known he must venture forth, leaving umbra for penumbra, and further yet again. And when he stood in the antumbra he turned to see the light that had been hidden from him and saw only Mycroft’s silhouette, standing guard, a blotch between him and the glories of the sun.

When he found himself thinking that even the sky was mourning, he knew that exhaustion was catching up with him at last. A week since the murder, scant hours since he’d solved the crime, using every resource, calling in every favor, forever since he’d paused to dream. He wanted nothing more than sleep, but this was a funeral he could not miss. Not with John bending down to Harry’s grave, tossing a handful of mud onto the coffin. Mycroft’s umbrella was unfurled above him, fragile silk and steel against the elements, and Sherlock stood beneath that shelter and was glad.

Comments

[ancalime8301]

Aww. :(

[rereader.livejournal.com]

Evocative and touching--and one case he would need no urging to prioritize.

[jane-somebody.livejournal.com]

Oh, lovely, as ever.