Flying's Just Like Falling

LONG AND POINTLESS AUTHOR'S NOTE AHEAD

Okay, so please don't kill me. I DID say I'd do Eclipse Ch. 18 by the end of May on my channel, but stuff happened and I still have writers block and I'm really sorry, but I WILL continue it eventually, I promise. Also, don't kill me for this fanfiction - it may be rubbish but it's my first Sherlock fanfiction because my friend basically dragged me into this fandom and I've fallen in love with it (and now I'm in the lunatic club, apparently,) so there's always room for me to improve it later. So I was reading SHerlock fics and rewatching a few episodes when my brain decided to have one of it's "Let's ruin Waistcoat's Life" sessions and asked me: "What if Moriarty had a sister?"

"Did I give you permission to make this idea?"

"Nope. And what if she always worries herself sick about her little brother going out to take over London and calls all the time and keeps nagging him to stay safe and be careful and always visits whenever possible and brings cookies like Mrs. Hudson does for Sherlock?"

(Because we all know Moriarty needs a Mrs Hudson equivalent)

"N O."

"And when he kills himself it tears her up inside but she's convinced there was still good left in him and sets out to prove that and find out why he would really do this and fix his mistakes by trying help John Watson, the man who was equally bereft by Sherlock's "death" and later on, Sherlock when he comes back?"

"Y'know what, bugger it, I need to write this now you've put it in my head! Thanks a LOT." Basically I am being laid waste to by my own mind... WHY?! Anyways, I should get on with this, shouldn't I?

March 7th, 2012

My name is Kenneth Tiffany Lara Brook, and I have dedicated the rest of my existence to clearing my brother's name. I am writing this diary in order to store the evidence I collect, the nature of which I will mention in a moment. If anything happens to me before I can complete my mission, at least when this is found they'll know that I at least tried to redeem my brother. I will never stop trying to discover why my brother did what he did - he wasn't one to let revenge and need to hurt another or even drive them to their death cloud his judgement. That wasn't the Richard that I knew.

I want the world to know that he wasn't always like this sadistic consulting criminal everybody sees him as today. He was different once - not everything is as it seems, and not all bad people have bad beginnings. In fact... Even now, after all that's happened, I'm still not sure that he was a bad person. Not entirely. I think that there was more to it all than his simply being a psychopath, a murderer, a narcisstic and brutal demon of a man...

This is the story of Richard James Brook. This is the story of the Fall from a new teller - this is the side of the Fall that nobody ever thinks about, noone ever sees. Because there are still a loyal few left to believe in Sherlock Holmes - but who else still keeps enough faith to believe in RIchard Brook? Not the fake Richard Brook, the false storyteller who spun a web of lies to entangle the great detective's mind. The real Richard Brook - my brother. Nobody else is left to believe in him - some still believe in Jim Moriarty, they even aspire to continue his work as his legacy lives on. But my brother and Moriarty are two different people, not one man under a false name as the world is led to believe. If I don't believe...

Nobody will.