Work Text:
Sherlock was passing the gun around from one hand to another. He didn't know why he chose to do this tonight. He just knew that he had to end his prolonged agony. He couldn't wait and see if things were going to get better. He knew that nothing would ever get better.
He had gone to see a psychiatrist but no one would take him seriously if he didn't kill himself.
The pain was too much, the bullying had torn him apart. He had been bullied from kindergarten. He was now 15. He has had enough.
Sherlock had taken his brothers umbrella. He knew that there was a gun inside it.
Now he was watching as the gun flew from left to right and so on.
It was 2 AM when Sherlock took his phone out of his pocket with a shaking hand. He opened his contacts and clicked on his brothers name. Sherlock started typing out a message. Soon he took one last selfie on his phone, he was smiling. Then he put the phone down.
Sherlock lifted the gun to his temple after loading it. His fingers were fidgeting near the trigger.
Sherlock took his final breath as he pulled the trigger.
There his body laid, his lifeless body, with a smile on its face. He was gone. He had chosen to end his life at 15 years old.
"Mycroft, I am sorry that it had to end like this. You will find my body once you enter my room. There is no point in trying to save me as I will shoot myself in the head right after this message is sent. Caring is not an advantage, brother mine. That's what you have said many times, remember? Live a long life for me, My."
~ SH