Mycroft sat in his private theater room in his state mansion house, seated in the familiar comfortable armchair right before the film projector as it played the old black-and-white film on the screen before him.
His head propped up on his fingers as his arm rested on the arm of his chair, Mycroft smirked as he watched one of the few films he enjoyed, mouthing along the male lead's lines as he did so. The only thing that could have made the experience more enjoyable was if there was cake, but since he was on a strict diet, he settled for his alcohol and a small treat as he watched the scene before him play out.
Suddenly, for a split second of a second, the footage glitched, showing a yellowed image that looked like an old photograph but had been too fleeting for him to see exactly what it was, before the film resumed.
Mycroft frowned, slowly lifting his head off of his fingers, just as the film was cut once more by a video shot of a young boy, overweight and about eleven years old.
The film continued to flicker, going from the movie to the young boy who was looking up at the camera with a slightly forced smile, and Mycroft turned to glance at his film projector with a deep frown.
The film continued normally as he did, and he looked back at the screen in bewildered confusion. Carefully, he doused his cigarette in the ashtray on the side table, watching the screen warily, waiting.
And then it happened again.
The boy was back, clearly of Mycroft from his childhood as he smiled at the camera before looking back down awkwardly, the scene continuously shifting and glitching with the film.
Mycroft's eyes widened as he watched the scenes switching, the family footage switching from one of him to one of a young Sherlock, about four years old, playing with a beach ball as the family enjoyed a picnic at the beach. His mother waved at the camera, clearly being held by his father.
A small smile broke out across his face without him even realizing at the footage, as he remembered that time when Sherlock was younger. When his family was... less dysfunctional.
The scene switched again, going back to a young Mycroft munching on his lunch while his father sat beside him. The footage was no longer breaking, simply rolling naturally, and it moved away to show both parents, Mycroft eating in the corner, and the young Sherlock running about on the beach far behind them, trotting back towards them.
The scene then moved right as Sherlock returned, running up and jumping at Mycroft, hugging the older brother as the young Mycroft tried to read his book. The elder brother smiled, clearly amused by his brother's antics, and there was no missing the genuine care and love in his expression in that moment – which was probably why it was one of his mother's favourite clips.
Mycroft liked the footage for a different reason – and even now, he let out a small laugh and a smile as he stared at young Sherlock, back in the days when he'd really looked up to his brother and loved him as openly as any innocent child could.
And then, it happened.
As the scene moved to a further shot of the family, capturing the two boys and their parents seated behind them as they enjoyed their picnic, two words in large, spidery font flashed across the screen on a white background for a split second:
'I'M BACK'
The footage returned to the image of the happy family for a second, before another image – this time of a close up of bright blue eyes – flashed across the screen again, followed by the words: 'I'M BACK' once more, zoomed in close, before it dissolved as though it had been chemically burnt.
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Face the Odds
FanfictionSherlock has returned safely back to London soil, or so he and his friends think. But the veil is dropping and the shadows of their pasts are closing in like sharks to their flailing prey. Can Sherlock, and those he cares about, evade 'Sumatra? And...