The Swan Queen | Sherlock

Prima Donna

   He looked surprised. His mouth hung open. Either he was working out what he was going to say next or he was too stunned to speak. "W-what?" he eventually mumbled.

"You're not my brother," I said, calmly and confidently.

"I... I am."

A laugh escaped my lips. I leaned back in my chair, crossing one leg over the other. "I have to admit, you almost had me fooled. For a moment there I genuinely believed..." I kept running my fingers through my hair, a nervous tick. I was feeling all sorts of emotions right now. My brain was working in overdrive trying to process everything and speak at the same time. "You're not my brother. You're not Apollo."

"I am!" he yelled, violently rocking back and forth on his chair, it scraped across the floor making an awful sound. "I'm Apollo! I am! I am!"

"You're not!" I yelled back.

"I just told you! Moriarty told you! Like it or not Sam, I'm your brother!"

"It was a clever idea. What better way to hurt me than to reveal my own brother as the one who killed Lord Melbourne, who arranged to have me killed?"

"I did, I did those things!"

"Oh, I know it was you. The hitman who killed my grandfather, who wanted to hurt me."

"To protect you-"

"Nothing you have done has been for me. Nothing." I stood up from my chair, walked over to the piano and pressed a few keys. "You can keep telling me how you are my brother, I don't believe you. The theory in my head has embedded itself. Do you want to know how I know? Aren't you curious?"

His voice wobbled as he spoke. "No. I don't. Because it's not true."

I continued regardless, feeling empowered by the music upstairs. "A few reasons, actually. When I first met you, it was so obvious how similar we were. The hair colour, the eyes, the same last name. We were both orphans. Even Paul sounds similar to Apollo. It would make perfect sense, my stalker turning out to be my brother, always watching over me. It helped, truly. A moment ago I believed it all to be true. I realised it had to be you, how could it not be?"

I pushed another key. "But it's not true, none of it. It was too much overkill. You were trying too hard to be like me, mirroring my actions. Paul Smith was an alias, and a clever one at that. You've been in my life for a while now, planting the seeds so that when a day like today came I would connect all the dots and realise 'of course! You have to be Apollo.'"

"Sam, it really is me. You have to believe me." He looked close to tears, his t-shirt was soaked with sweat. I hated him, but I also pitied him.

"When Lord Melbourne was shot, my uncle Mycroft presented me with a photograph of the gunman named Thomas King. He didn't know who you were. Your DNA and fingerprints linked you as Thomas. I thought it was just an alias made up to kill a man, that you truly were Paul, but now you're supposed to have been Apollo all along."

"I am, I am-"

"Mycroft didn't recognise you. He's been watching over my brother since he was born, do you really think he wouldn't have recognised you?" A small lie, but partially true. Mycroft may have lost track of Apollo after he turned 16, but I didn't doubt for a second that he wouldn't be able to recognise my twin. People change as they grow up, but there's still a hint of the child underneath. Mycroft had photos of Apollo, I'm certain of it, I just didn't feel ready to see them. I was afraid of the face I would see.

"Mycroft would know if his DNA turned up at a crime scene. And don't try and tell me some higher power altered his records so his prints would show up as Thomas King. Mycroft is the highest of higher powers. He has kept mine and my brother's true parentage a secret for years, our records are locked up tight and fake ones are in place regarding me as the daughter of Daphne Holmes and Barry Smith, and him as being fostered by Mr and Mrs Samson."