Moriarty Brother oneshots

Lonely Talks

Louis sighed as he sat down next to him. It's been long since he really took the time to talk to his brother. William has always been at listening to him, but often, Louis didn't feel brave enough to come forward and speak to him.

Not that William would ever judge him. But there was still this awkward feeling churning his stomach everytime he sat down for a talk with him.

Probably because Louis wasn't so used to opening up. The younger looked at him with a small smile before starting to speak.

"Did you hear about what happened today? Holmes got a prize for his achievements. He didn't want it but the doctor Watson forced him to get it. I wonder if he came to talk to you recently? Hm... Whatever. I don't really want to talk about him today. Actually I'm just trying to gain time because I'm scared of what I really want to say..." He chuckled saddly and looked down. William kept silence. 

"What I meant to say... Brother, it hurts you know? You probably do. It's your fault after all. I'm sure you feel guilty enough, I don't want to add to it. But it's so painful. Albert said I shouldn't talk to you again until I feel better. He said that talking to you every weeks wasn't helping me. But I like talking to you, despite the pain. I feel nice when I'm with you." 

He marked a pause, but William, again, said nothing.

"It's going away that truly hurts. Sometimes I feel like you know all this. You know how much pain I'm in and I just wonder if you feel it too? If I was to be honest, I think you are pretty selfish. But it's alright, I'm learning to accept it... It's probably the only selfish thing you did so I can't really blame you."

He sighed and looked up in front of him, the tips of his fingers lightly touching the cold grey stone, tracing the letters.

[William J. Moriarty, Lord of Crimes.]

His brother didn't reply. He never did since he left. Probably couldn't. Louis liked to believe he was here with him, but truly had no idea.

Beside Holmes who seemed to also struggle with it, no one seemed to understand the pain. It was ironic how the one man who Louis used to hate was the one he actually related to the most.

Because the both of them were struggling to mourn the loss. Struggling to accept reality.

"I miss you, brother. I hate you for leaving. But I'll manage... I'll grieve someday, hopefully. If not then I'll simply carry this pain with me until it's time for me to join you."

He left the flowers on the stone, tears rolling down his cheeks. As always when he came here. Coincidentally, he met Sherlock at the gate. He probably came to talk to William, too.

With a heart filled with pain and regrets, Louis left the cemetery.

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