麦夏同人文句子收录[童年过渡篇]
开始要有玻璃渣了。[补充：这篇文的完结时间在原作第二季之前]
After that, he learns he can intimidate with a simple selection of words and a smile and the threat of knowledge. He uses his words and he uses them to cut cleanly, deeply, with surgical precision and he doesn’t watch the metaphorical entrails fall to the ground. He can use sleight of hand and the blade of his tongue to topple the world, rebuild it as he sees fit. He only has to know.
[从那以后，mycroft知悉自己能够使用通过筛选出来的简单措辞和微笑，以及具有威慑力的知识去恫吓他人。他驾驭语言，并且使它们如同外科手术般精确，言简意赅、意味深长。他不会让隐喻性的内在落入尘埃。他舌剑唇枪、技艺娴熟，占据世界制高点，重建他所不满的地方。他只是必须知道。][我又渣翻了]
Nothing is right and he’s constantly dissatisfied and Sherlock won’t stop asking questions until one day, Mycroft snaps, “Shut it, Sherlock, I don’t have time—“ Which is ludicrous, he has plenty of time, it’s usually just him and Sherlock and the hidden mouse-footed staff, the house is big and it echoes. His voice, deep and smoothing out, echoes. His words echo.
And Sherlock looks shocked, completely taken aback before shutting his mouth with a click of his teeth. Mycroft’s little brother doesn’t talk to him or look at him for three weeks.
Mycroft remembers what it was like to be lonely.
[看到这里把我给乐的][ S：我都没凶过我自己，你凭什么凶我。sherly再也不理micky了，哼！][然后sherlock花了三个星期让mycroft知道孤独是方还是圆]He gives in first and he knows it, he acknowledges it.
One night, he stands in Sherlock’s doorway and hears a noise. Not crying, but close. He curls into Sherlock’s bed, keeping a respectful distance, because if anything, Sherlock needs respect though Mycroft will never, ever tell him.
He falls asleep after Sherlock and wakes before him and sneaks out. Sherlock tells Mycroft at breakfast, as if nothing has happened, “I want to learn to pick locks.”
[他们两个人是如此的相似，从秉性到智商。然而做出让步的永远是mycroft，他本可以像sherlock一样任性，自我]He discovers from the scent on his father’s jacket pockets and the alien crease in his collar and the mud on his trouser hems that something is wrong, horribly wrong. He wants to tell Mycroft, but it’s disturbing and he can’t sleep. Mycroft’s already become almost another person, this tall fellow with the new voice and gait; he and Sherlock don’t see eye to eye as much anymore.
It pours out of him at dinner when Father is saying, “Sit up, Sherlock, and don’t slurp your soup. Sounds disgusting. Doesn’t take a genius.”
“Oh, sod off,” Sherlock replies, testing the phrase and it’s a pleasing result, everyone at the table stunned at if stabbed with a hot poker.As an experiment, it’s successful. As family interaction, it’s astronomically incalculable.
“Sherlock,” Mycroft says and it makes him twitch in his seat because Mycroft is disappointed, but it shouldn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, “It doesn’t matter, Mycroft, the lot of you can piss off. You’re angry with me for saying two words considered vulgar in social situations when he’s the one who’s abandoning us.”
And the kaleidoscope breaks.
He only wanted the moment, the attention, because he’s right and it’s true, he figured it out like magic, but now, he’s ruined something and Mycroft says, “You know for sure,” and it’s a question as Mummy starts crying silently.
Sherlock nods and he’s miserable, but he’s right, so he feels defiant, raises his chin.Father doesn’t say a word, merely pushes away from the table.
He never talks to Sherlock again.
The shards begin to fall.
[万花筒的碎片开始崩塌，掉落]The row is loud enough to rival the thunderstorm that moves in around midnight.
Arrangements are made for their father to move out, but a month into the proceedings, Sherlock sneaks into the sanctum sanctorum to hide under the mammoth desk since he needs to be cramped and alone, the house is too quiet and it’s pressing on his brain. Instead, he finds his father dead at his desk of a heart attack. He screams for Mycroft and doesn’t cry at the funeral.
[余波]
Then Mycroft is sent to uni a year early.
Sherlock is nine and Mycroft is leaving. He sits on his brother’s bed, watching him pack and he reverse-pickpockets things into Mycroft’s luggage: a test tube; a squirrel skull; a copy of his lab book detailing the spider’s web progression and the patterns and measurements in the silk; a tiny spindly leg of the tea robot – the metal still smells of tea. [micky要走了，sherly一边伤心一边皮]
He lies in the piles of Mycroft’s clothes and Mycroft moves him, kissing his forehead, and Sherlock holds onto one of his shirts. [满脑子都是：弟弟死死揪着哥哥的一件衬衫不放手，哥哥具有绅士风度地亲吻弟弟稚嫩的额头……]
He doesn’t understand what’s going on, it’s not rational, it’s not logical and it doesn’t make any bloody sense. He doesn’t want Mycroft to leave and he doesn’t know why.
“Mycroft.”
Sherlock is nine and he is alone.Mycroft is seventeen and alone at uni. He understands better than Sherlock how to blend in, how to smile and make polite small talk and drink tea with people he can barely stand to be in the same building with, how to behave as if he’s normal.
[十七岁的mycroft是孤单的，他在大学。他比sherlock更懂得如何去融入，如何跟只能勉强相处的人们微笑着喝茶，谈话。如何用行为让他表现得像一个普通人。]Knowledge is power, but power is nothing if you don’t know what to do with it and how it reacts to the mundanity of everyday life. Mycroft intends to gain both. He knows he’s dangerous, he could be spectacularly dangerous, if he applied himself. But the idea is to get people to do it for you, obsequiously, without them even being aware of it. Manipulation is such a dirty word, but Mycroft loves to hear it in his head.
[知识就是力量，但是如果你不知道如何去使用，怎样与尘世的日常发生反应，那知识将视为无物。mycroft更倾向于得到两者。他知道自己是危险的，尤其当他运用于自身，便会带来令人惊叹的危境。但是这个概念就是让他人服务于自己，甚至于让这些人都没有意识到，他们服从于自己。操控，是一个卑劣的单词，但是mycroft喜欢在自己的脑海中听到它]Control is an act of will; he has control, regardless of his inherent tendency towards poor impulses; the only time he’s in danger from that is around Sherlock.
[控制是一种意志行为；mycroft拥有控制力，尽管他的不良冲动与生俱来；唯一一次使他陷入危机的冲动来源于sherlock]
Mycroft misses him like he’s missing half his brain. Mummy says he has two shadows: his and Sherlock. Most days he thinks he’s Sherlock’s.
[He daydreams him，he misses him，he is "him"]He goes home every chance he gets, not because he has a particular attachment to the brick-and-mortar, but he does have a duty as man of the house, taking care of Mummy and his little brother.
He goes home every chance he gets despite all of that. He goes home for Sherlock.
[这对排比句太美了。]sherlock抽条时，被形容为：he’s all angular sticks stuck together with joints [他就是一个瘦削的互相接合的木棍]
Some law of gravity only Sherlock contains. Mycroft figured this out long ago because he orbits Sherlock in a maddening way. [有一些只有sherlock才拥有的万有引力。mycroft在很久之前就搞清楚了，因为他围绕着sherlock的轨迹呈现出一种几近疯狂的方式]
Mycroft wants to tell Sherlock he’s proud of him, for letting people live, for not destroying everything, for surviving [mycroft因为sherlock成长的过程中没有生灵涂炭而骄傲……]
he catches Sherlock getting out of the bath and his little brother has new scars Mycroft wasn’t around to prevent or be a conspirator to, and Mycroft’s heart breaks a little. He’d say these things: pride, joy at their shared blood, how they have each other’s mannerisms, love. But Sherlock would take it as mocking and Mycroft only mocks to get a rise out of him, take the piss, and that wouldn’t be Mycroft’s specific objective. He loves his baby brother, this new person emerging from all the angles.
[Describing are fascinating，but sad with pain ][性唤起]
Mycroft is twenty-one and a man of the world, in almost every sense of the phrase. He’s had men and women, only to discover he prefers men, but something is always missing, something is never right and he becomes restless; he’s smoked but found he doesn’t care for it; he drinks and narrows down his taste to exactly what he likes; he perfects his manner of dress and feels like he’s dressing for someone, not the vacant lot surrounding him, the polite people in their polite bubbles, but again, that ghost of a person he feels looking over his shoulder. Most of the time he turns and expects to see Sherlock.
He goes home for the holidays and Sherlock is fourteen, sullen at the mouth, angry at the wrists, obstinate at the knees, though his posture is still straight, such that Mycroft wants to run slow fingers up his spine and into his dark curls, like a road map to some undiscovered country, and Mycroft’s throat goes dry.
Sherlock’s eyes find him over the days and Mycroft sees them burning larger than normal. He has a sudden drop in his stomach, a want, because Sherlock is becoming eloquent, his silences full like they used to be, only he has a bigger vocabulary now for what he isn’t saying.
Mycroft intuits Sherlock doesn’t completely know what he’s doing around Mycroft, how they seem to be dragging each other in some new direction, a collision course along an unknown vector. Sherlock stands in Mycroft’s doorway in his floppy pyjamas and says, “Mycroft, I saved this for you,” and he almost chokes until he sees Sherlock holding out something for him. It’s a book about deep space discoveries and quantum implications.
Like usual, Sherlock reads his mind, his brother’s long-fingered hand resting on Mycroft’s ankle as they talk, then Sherlock starts to name the bones in Mycroft’s foot, working his way up, his new, pitched-dark voice vibrating its way into Mycroft, proximal, intermediate, distal phalanges; metatarsal; medial, intermediate, lateral cuneiform; cuboid; navicular; talus; calcaneus, his baby brother completely unaware of how Mycroft’s blood heats faster and faster at Sherlock’s touch.“Stop it, Sherlock, stop,” he says, catching Sherlock’s wrist and Sherlock looks confused, then swiftly annoyed before twisting off the bed and out of the room.
Mycroft is twenty-two and off in the world, extending the radius of his education, though he rarely pays attention anymore. He is climbing a ladder most people can’t even perceive. He writes letters to Sherlock, details of the day, random puzzles and mysteries and brainteasers, blueprints for complex networks and modifications for the steam engine they’ve been rebuilding for the past ten years. Sherlock writes back, sporadically, and always in code. A new code every time with demands to know how long it takes Mycroft to crack it.
He daydreams about Sherlock, the other half of his brain, and suddenly realises what’s been missing all this time. He thought the blank space was in his skull.
It’s not.
[他以为缺失的地方在他的身上，然而并不是]
