Unfixed

FIFTEEN

"A Spoonful of Grief"

Sherlock stood in the doorway, his eyebrows knitting together before pulling apart again. He recognised Genie almost immediately. Her piercing blue eyes and red tinted blonde hair were a clear indication, but it was her nervous smile that confirmed his suspicion- the same smile she gave to him when they first met. When he didn't speak and was clearly wondering what she was doing in his home Genesis rubs her arm and motions to him.

"You look very grown up." He nods firmly before turning briskly on his heel and exiting the room. The only thing preventing her from running after him was Violet's firm grip on her bicep.

"He was heart broken when he discovered you had left too." She knew the statement hadn't meant to upset her but, after spending the last seven years of her life yearning for the reunion, Genesis couldn't help but choke out a shameful sob. Lifting her wrist up to her mouth she clamps her woollen clad arm between her mouth to stifle to noises and shake her head as she turns back to Violet. Sniffing as her nose streams she allows Violet to wrap her arms around her.

"I'm sorry." She sobs with another sniff. "It was stupid of me to expect anything other than a cold welcome from him. I left him after all." She shrugs and pulls away, wiping at her tear stained cheeks as Mycroft and David enter the room hauling two bags along with them.

"Genesis, are you alright?" Turning around, she hadn't quite expected him to show concern for her yet it was welcomed thoroughly. He acknowledged her puffy eyes and pinched his lips, quickly deducing what had happened. "Come with me." He told the two Magnussens before lifting Genesis' bags and dragging them up the stairs. They were shown to the remaining spare rooms in silence and were left to unpack in silence. She took out the last item she had unpacked carefully and unwrapped it from the thick fleece. Looking down at the picture sat in the stained wood frame she smiles sadly and reminisces on the moment the photo was taken.

It was the night of the Christmas Mayhem when Holly and Violet had collected them once it was over. The moon was shining brightly that night and they all waited for the crowds to disperse. Once the area was mostly clear Holly had pulled out her camera and told them to smile. Genesis and Victor Trevor were on a sugar high whereas Sherlock was simply exhausted after having to deal with the two of them hyperactively dancing around him all night. As soon as the curly haired boy tried to run his friends had grabbed him and held him in place. While Victor Trevor slung his arms tightly around the boy, Genesis went one step further and pinched his chin with one hand ultimately forcing his lips to imitate a fish.

The photograph was over nine years old and a few white scraggly cracks ran through it from where it had bent in Holly's photo album. A silent tear slipped down Genesis' cheek and she stood to place the framed photo on top of the drawers.

"Genesis?" Jumping in surprise, she looks to the door and finds Sherlock standing in the doorway with one foot in the room and the other still in the hallway. Frantically wiping the tears away she offers him a smile and hopes it looks genuine. His frown made it evident she hadn't succeeded. "Why are you crying?" He stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.

Approaching her, he acknowledges the photo and slowly picks it up and motions to the boy on his right side. "Who is this?" After a moment of shock, Genesis remembers what Mycroft had said about him not remembering their best friend.

"Uh, Victor Trevor. He was one of our- my best friends." She hoped he hadn't noticed her slip up. It didn't seem as though he had. Running her hands up her arms she bows her head solemnly. "He isn't around any more..."

"He died." Sherlock states and places the frame back and turns to her. His eyes widen as she nods her head and begins crying once again. Stumbling over his words slightly, he decides it was best to keep his mouth shut. Ignoring the nagging voice in the back of his mind he shakes his head and kicks her case shut. "Dinner will be ready soon." He leaves her once she nods her acknowledgement.

Leaving the room, she hastily searches for the bathroom and proceeds to blow her nose and splash cold water over her face. She can see the dull shimmer in her blue eyes, so different to those in the photograph. Her eyes were no longer happy and carefree; they had seen death and loss and grief. Victor Trevor's death seemed to have triggered something in Genesis' life because now she believed in a saying she would have refused to as a child. Death comes in Threes.

▪~○••○~▪

The kitchen-diner was decked out in varying amounts of tinsel and fairy lights. The table was decorated with a red velvet tablecloth, gold and silver Christmas crackers and varying sizes of dishes wrapped in tin foil around a lit Cinnamon scented candle. David, Mycroft and Sherlock were already sat at the table, brother in front of brother and David beside Sherlock. Violet and Siger were busy popping open two bottles of Champagne and filling jugs with beef and chicken gravy. Tinsel was tied around Violet's waist, adding shape to her red dress covered in Santa hats, and weaved through the belt hoops on Siger's trousers as an otherwise useless belt.

The festive music playing over the radio, the atmosphere and even the smell of the room lightened her mood. Dropping into her seat across from David, Genesis offers him a smile when he silently asks if she'd alright.

Soon enough, everyone was seated with enough food and champagne than they knew what to do with. Once they had popped their crackers and forced paper crowns onto Mycroft and Sherlock's heads they began eating. For a while it was pleasant, they had laughed and joked and complimented the food. Genesis and David forgot for a moment what they had left back in Denmark.

"So Genesis, how is your Mother?" Her breath hitches and she places her cutlery down, struggling to swallow the meat in her mouth. Eye flicking to David, she finds that her brother had lowered his head and also stopped eating. Each Holmes noticed this and now there was four sets of eyes watching her as a fresh wave of tears filled her eyes. She was so done with crying.

"Uh... Mum is, um, she's gone." She chokes and quickly gulps down the rest of her champagne and decides to get the second part over with as quickly as possible. "So is Isaiah." Her face unwillingly scrunches up as if she was in pain as her mind wandered to them. "Excuse me." Scrambling from her seat she runs from the room and the front door slamming is the only noise in the room. After a split second David chokes out a strained sob, the sound of him attempting to hold his tears back almost shattered Violet's heart. Ignoring her own silent tears she stands and pulls him from his chair before engulfing him in a bone crushing hug.

"It's okay to cry." She whispers to him as he sobs into her shoulder. Noticing the three men watching them from the table she scowls. "Oh for crying out loud! One of you go after her!" She goes back to rubbing David's back and whispering soothing words into his ear.

"I'll go." Mycroft states and excuses himself from the room.

It doesn't take long to find her. As soon as he stepped out of the house he found her shaking and sobbing on the bench swing beside the front door. He knew she knew he was there and approached her without a words. Sitting beside her, he waits a moment expecting her to look up or tell him to go away. Instead she just lowers her legs and scoots closer to him, unsure whether he would allow her to hug him or not but still wanting to feel another person's warmth. Soon enough, Mycroft reaches out and rubs his hand up her arms before cupping the back of her neck and drawing her close to his chest.

As she shakes against him he slowly rubs his hand up her back and leans down to whisper what his mother had said to David.

"It's okay to cry." With that she wound her arms around his waist and hooked her legs over his before screaming into his shirt, tears and snot staining his shirt. If it was anyone else he would have cared enough to push them away but he knew Holly, he knew Isaiah and he knows Genesis. He was grieving not only for her lost family but also for her. For an eighteen year old she had suffered enough that it's a shock that this was her breaking point.

It took a moment but she calmed down. By this point she was snivelling in his arms, wrapped around him like a child as the bench swung them gently. Mycroft didn't say anything, he didn't pull away, he waited for her to make the first move so he knew she was alright. She took a sharp breath.

"O happy dagger..." She mutters, her words muffled again his chest. "This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die." He bows his head so his cheek is resting against the top of her head. Taking a moment to become comfortable with the smell of coconut on her head, he tilts his head so his lips are close to her skin.

"After life's fitful fever he sleeps well."