Moriarty Brother oneshots

The Drawing

A young boy, who looked to be at least 11years old, was sitting under the warm sun. His hands,covered in bandages, were awkwardly drawing on a white piece of paper. His pencil was dancing on the material and finally stopped as the little boy raised his drawing, a big smile appearing on his face.

It was a classical childish drawing, the characters were not really detailed and only had some colours to form a background, but nonetheless, the boy looked proud.
The paper presented two humans : a small one with fluffy black hair and a blue scarf ; And a taller one with short blond hair and big red eyes.
They were surrounded by what seems to be cats and lots of flowers, as well as a big yellow sun on the corner.

He suddenly got up from his chair and hurried into the house. He climbed up the stairs with excitement and arrived in front of a wooden door. It was big and intimidating, and the child hesitated to knock. But one glance at his drawing and he got his courage back.

Knock knock.

"Enter!"

The kid slightly opened the door as a young man turned to him smiling.
The man was blonde, with deep scarlet eyes and dressed elegantly; but what he wore the best was the warm smile he gave to the child.

"Hello Fred. What can I help you with ?"

Fred blushed a little as he looked at his drawing.

"I…I huh…I…"
The words wanted to stay in his throat, he was scared.
"...gift. For Mister William."

The young man's eyes lit up as he got up.

"For me?"

Fred nodded embarrassed and handed him the drawing shyly.
William kneeled at the boy's height and looked at the drawing. It was simple, yet so cute.

"Is it you and me?"
Fred nodded as William smiled brightly.
"It's really good Fred! You are improving a lot, I'm proud of you."
Fred smiled but it wasn't really what he wanted to hear.
"Do…"
The blonde looked at him.
"...do you…like it?"
William smiled fondly as he hugged the younger boy.
"Of course I do. I will forever cherish it Fred, until the day I die."

And he did.
Fred was silently cleaning William's office. It's been some days since the Final Problem, since William died.
Fred managed to keep it together, he didn't cry ; at least, not in front of the others.
Now, he was assisting Louis in the MI6, and got used to not seeing William greeting him each morning, with a warm smile and a sleepy face.

He was cleaning the office, not moving anything, but as a way to mourn. It helped him, it looked like nothing changed, that the final problem was just a nightmare he woke up from.
As he was dusting off the desk, something fell. A piece of paper it seems.
Fred picked it up and was about to put it back as a big sun drawn on the paper caught his attention.
He let go of his broom, eyes widened, and his heartbeat beating fast. His shaky hands opened the paper and that's when Fred broke down.
A childish drawing, badly made, badly colored. Two characters, some cats and some flowers ; Fred fell to his knees as he started to tear up.

Fred's eyes went to the smaller character, it was him. He recognised his own hair and scarf ; and he was holding the other character's hand. A tall blonde with big red eyes : Mister William.

It was his drawing, a simple sketch made years ago that he forgot about, but that William kept with him.
Fred sobbed, tears falling on his drawing of happier Times. Then he saw another paper that most likely fell along with the drawing.
A note, signed by William.

"This message is for Fred, and Fred only.

If you read this, then that means that we carried the Final Problem and succeeded. I'm probably underground when you will read those words, Fred.
I know that you will be the one cleaning this dirty office,this office where I planned the death of lots of people.
I do not have much artistic talent but like you did back when you were a kid, here's all I can do to show my gratitude to you.

Thank you, Fred. You have no idea how proud I am to have raised such a caring and selfless young man as you.
You have grown so much those last years, seeing you becoming someone people can rely on truly made me happy.
I still remember the day we met, the day I lent you my scarf, that same scarf you must be wearing as you read this. From a stray kid, afraid of adults to a kind young man who always put others in front of him, how wonderful.
I am sorry, I won't be able to see you grow up anymore, I won't be here to see you enjoying your life in this New world we created…I truly regret it.
That is, here is my last order, the last request from your mentor :
Enjoy your life to the fullest. Fight against people who look down on others, help people around the city, the World even,help our Family, and live. Live Fred, this is all I'm asking for.
Live happy until the end.

Thank you so much for everything, I wish you to be happy, to give childrens the happy and carefree childhood I was never able to fully give you.
And when the sun shines as bright as the one in your drawing, maybe you could say hi to me.

Forever by your side,
William James Moriarty."

Fred let go of the paper and let himself fall on the ground, crying, hugging his knees, his cheek against the floor.
He sobbed, he didn't know how long he sobbed but he did, hugging his scarf.
His vision became blurry and Fred fell asleep, hugging his scarf as well as the papers.
When Jack found him, there was a tear on his cheek that the old man dried with his finger. He took a look and Saw the letter, recognising William's handwriting.
Jack didn't need to read it to know what happened. He slowly picked Fred up and left to lay him in his bed, accidently letting go of the drawing.
It was Bonde who picked it up, the young blonde looked at it and his eyes softened. He smiled sadly and went to Fred's room to find Jack covering the younger with blankets, Bonde showed the drawing to Jack and they looked at Fred sadly. The blonde slipped the drawing in Fred's hand, and kissed him on the forehead before leaving with Jack.

Fred's eyes were closed but no tears were getting out anymore. The sensation of the papers in his hands and his scarf close to him were comforting and he let himself sleep.
In the Moonlight, it almost seems like a ghost of dust was re-adjusting the blankets.

Words: 1176