It was one of the few days that Mycroft was home from the school he always goes to.I was walking around the house with Mr. Bee. Mom and dad were out for the day. I'm bored. Let's go check on Mycroft.
I tip toed to Mycroft's room and opened the door a fraction of an inch.
Mycroft was sitting in the middle of the room in a pool of blood. "Mycroft!" I yelled and ran into the room.
He was crying and had cuts on his wrists. "What happened?" I asked. Why would you do this to yourself? It's useless and harmful.
He just kept crying. What do I do? I thought, a bit panicked. Then I remembered. In a book I read it said that you should put pressure on the wound and wash it. I went to the bathroom and grabbed some of the towels.
I tied them around his wrists to stop the bleeding. Then I went back to the bathroom. I need to get the first aid kit. I jumped. It was too high up.
I looked around. There was the toilet. I climbed on top of that and onto the counter. It walked to the first aid kit and grabbed it. How do I get down? I thought.
I heard I groan come from Mycroft's room. There's no time! I thought and jumped off the counter. I hit my leg and started running to his room. His face was pale and the towel wrapped around his wrists were bright red with his blood.
I opened the first aid kit and looked at it. There was some tubes of random things and a roll of bandages. I grabbed one of the tubes that said "antibiotic ointment". This is suppose to kill germs.
I grabbed my brother's hand. "Mike c'mon." I said and I dragged him to the bathroom. I washed his hands with warm water. He flinched a bit. Then I put a layer of the antibiotic ointment on the cuts. It must've stung.
Then I wrapped the cuts with the bandages. Then I looked at him. He looked a bit better. "Why did you do that?" I asked.
He shook his head and started to cry again. I hugged him and tried to calm him down.
Then he looked at me. "I'm fine now." Mycroft said. And he hugged back. He led me back into his room and I helped him change his clothes and clean the room. After the he protected me and helped me when I needed it.
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I don't know anymore guys....... The feels are overwhelming.
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Random Sherlock Oneshots
Fanfiction"I know this is a bit stupid. But..... Happy Birthday Sherlock........... I know this was a waste of time...... Why would I say happy birthday to a grave?" -John Hamish Watson