Sherlock Holmes is renowned far and wide for his Mind Palace but Mycroft Holmes is privately known to have a House Of Memories.
Elina Hooper is the twin sister of the sweet pathologist, Molly. French on their mother's side and being both graced wit...
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To be in a coma was to explain the state of unconsciousness where Elina could neither be awoken or responsive. For the following two weeks, even though it was an induced coma; Doctors were able to determine her pain by clicking their fingers to test her cognitive behaviour and flash a light in her eyes.
That's was the unusual thing though...
Dr Phillips had to contact someone higher than him to run tests on Elina, in particular her eyes. It was famously common and connected with the artist and actor David Bowie. Anisocoria. A word which translated into not equal pupil condition. It was nothing too concerning to worry about considering that it wasn't harshly targeted but in Mycroft's mind, it certainly made her unique.
So bloody beautiful.
Due to the diagnosis, Elina had to be tested for other things such as a tumour, brain haemorrhaging, swelling and aneurysms. Luckily everything came back negative so the doctors had put down that her left eye changed from greyish-green to blue due to the trauma of herself mentally knowing the change in herself... Being one leg less short.
It was extraordinary how the older Hooper's mind worked...
***
Even the people in government and MI figures were concerned with Mycroft's wellbeing and they couldn't judge considering that it was because of Elina. To sir Edwin, what Elina did was quite a noble thing. She must of known the risks she was willing to take and he knew that it didn't matter if she was closer to the bomb or otherwise, her priority was to protect Mycroft Holmes. He could tell in her actions how she adored him.
He stood tall in the Holmes' office just as Mycroft collapsed into his chair and held his hand over his face tiredly. "Mike, go home." Yes, sir Edwin knew of the precautions of using such a nickname but at the moment he wasn't talking to Mr British Government. He was talking to a man who apparently clever enough did not realise he was in love or at least somewhat closer to the emotion. "You cannot simply keep going on like this." Sir Edwin tried to reclaim.
It had been two months since the whole ordeal and Mycroft couldn't face going home to an empty house. With dreary hallways, paintings created from the highest bidder that looked as though they were mocking him, armoury polished so cleanly that he could see his thinly trimmed beard in but most importantly, turning the duvet each night and sleeping with his eyes wide open.
It was quite obvious to those he knew to know him well that he wasn't doing well at all. From sir Edwin's point of view not only did he gain a beard but he seemed to of lost a vast amount of weight. Not to the point of being anorexic but it was still enough to notice. "Nothings wrong if you wish to seek help, Mycroft." He tried again, watching as Mycroft sat by his desk writing up documents and emails.
The only thing that seemed to grasp a little of Mycroft's attention was the caller flashing on screen, Sherlock Holmes. "Yes?" He answered quick and precise, stating in between words that he was an extremely busy man.
