Sherlock, who had just reached the pivotal age of seven, sat in his room, making a blanket fort. Well, it wasn't actually a fort, more of a pirate ship. He'd just finished reading Treasure Island, and decided that the only worthwhile thing to do was to become a pirate.
The elder and self-proclaimed smarter brother by the name of Mycroft Holmes entered Sherlock's room, wondering what his little brother could be up to. He scowled when he saw how Sherlock had torn up his room despite Mummy constantly telling him to keep it neat and tidy.
"What are you doing?" he asked, mimicking his mother's often-used disciplinary tone.
Sherlock looked up. Just Mycroft. "Building a pirate ship. Obviously." He scowled at Mycroft's tone. He hated when his brother tried to act older than he was. "Can you help? Please?" he asked, using his most annoying tone.
"But it's not a real pirate ship," Mycroft complained.
"Not yet." Sherlock looked over at Mycroft, and made the biggest pleading eyes he could.
Mycroft opened his mouth to protest, but stopped when he saw the look on his baby brother's face. "I'm captain," he stated, climbing into the fort.
Sherlock pouted. "But it's my ship! And it's not ready. I need you to fix the sail, Mycroft. I can't reach that high," he said, looking annoyed at his own inadequacies.
Grinning proudly, Mycroft stretched himself to his full height and created a makeshift mast out what seemed to be Sherlock's bed sheet and the old broom from the attic. "There," he said happily. "Shall we weigh anchor?"
"Aye! Set sail for Tortuga!" Sherlock used his best pirate voice. He liked being a pirate. It was even fine that Mycroft was here. After all, a pirate captain needed a crew. It would be fun bossing him around, Sherlock thought with an impish grin.
Mycroft scowled once again and crossed his arms. "I said I'm captain. I'm older than you!"
"So? It's my ship. And I led a mutiny against you, so unless you follow my commands, you'll be sleeping with the fishes." Sherlock glared at Mycroft, challenging him.
"Mutiny? That's not fair!" Mycroft complained. He rose and went to grab for the pirate hat on Sherlock's head.
Sherlock ducked and scrambled away. "It's not meant to be fair." He stuck his tongue out at Mycroft.
"I order you to walk off the plank!" Mycroft said, giggling brightly as he managed to tackle his brother in the cramped fort, finally able to snatch the hat away.
Sherlock struggled to get Mycroft to let go. He squirmed, trying to get away. "You do realise I can swim. And that I've prepared a life boat," he said, scowling at Mycroft, but, unable to stay mad, burst into giggles as well.
"These seas are infested with sharks," Mycroft said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "And giant squids and deadly jellyfish and giant sea dragons-"
"Lifeboat. Equipped with a harpoon," Sherlock retorted. He could do it. He could win the game of who could be more clever, despite the fact that Mycroft always seemed to win.
The older Holmes brother rolled his eyes and scrambled backwards, holding the hat tightly upon his head. "No, I threw your harpoon overboard and burned the lifeboat!" He stood, adopting a very captain-like pose. "Now, off to the bridge with you!" Mycroft grabbed a stray stick of wood lying on the floor and pointed it at Sherlock threateningly.
Sherlock looked at him defiantly. "You'll have to defeat me first!" he said, picking up another piece of wood and brandishing it threateningly.
Suddenly, the responsible part of Mycroft came through and he lowered his "sword". "Mummy says we shouldn't fight," he said, conflicted.
"Pirates don't have Mummys. Now, have at you!" Sherlock said, lunging with his makeshift sword.
Mycroft flinched back from the attack, never having been a fan of roughhousing. "Back to your station, scallywag!" he barked, clumsily attempting to block Sherlock's assault with his own weapon.
"I don't think so, landlubber! It'll be off to Davy Jones' locker with you!" Sherlock parried and lunged again, though not very hard. He wasn't trying to hurt Mycroft, after all.
Mycroft hissed as Sherlock landed a hit on his shoulder. "Ow," he complained. Glancing back at his brother and seeing the sudden guilty and concerned look on Sherlock's young face, Mycroft dropped to his knees dramatically and clutched at where he had been hit. "You've killed me," he cried out, his face contorted in mock-pain.
"Ha! Fear me, for I am a dread pirate captain. Beg for mercy and I'll let you live," Sherlock said, trying to keep a straight face, but bursting into giggles. He liked it when Mycroft played along. It was a good distraction from everything. "I may even promote you to first mate," he added.
Mycroft grinned at Sherlock's bubbly giggles but quickly hid it to maintain his character. "I'll never beg!"
"Then prepare your soul for Davy Jones, ruffian. For I will show you no mercy. Walk to the plank," he ordered, managing to keep himself under control. Sherlock kept the stick pointed at Mycroft's back, occasionally poking him a bit.
"You can't kill me, captain," Mycroft replied tauntingly. "Want to know why?"
"Why?" Sherlock asked, frowning, rather confused at the sudden turn of events.
"Because I can summon the monstrous Kraken to destroy your ship!"
Sherlock looked down at Mycroft, disappointed. "You can't do that- it doesn't exist," he pouted.
Mycroft gazed back at him with playful scorn in his eyes. "You won't be saying that when your ship is at the bottom of the sea and you're being eaten alive!"
"The Kraken is supposed to be a giant squid. Squids don't eat people, Mycroft," Sherlock stated flatly.
Mycroft gave him a look. "Oh, hush. It'll drag you down with its monstrous tentacle arms and drown you."
Sherlock looked defiantly at Mycroft. "I'd like to see it try!"
Smirking devilishly, Mycroft grabbed Sherlock's ankle and, catching Sherlock off-guard, managed to make him lose his balance and fall to the floor. Sherlock yelped out, surprised, but uninjured. Mycroft wrapped an arm around his thin neck, not constricting, but thoroughly annoying to his little, physically smaller brother.
"Now you've done it-" Mycroft drawled teasingly, "The Kraken will drag the both of us to Davy Jones' Locker!"
Sherlock wriggled, trying to get free. "Mycroft!" he whined.
Mycroft did not relent, finding his brother's struggles amusing. "Your ship is doomed," he added cheerfully.
"Then a captain goes down with his ship. Let go, so I can meet my fate," Sherlock said, resigned.
Laughing, Mycroft ruffled Sherlock's already messy hair, released him, and then lazily sat up, cross legged. "I win, I'm captain," he proclaimed, placing the hat on his own head once again.
"No, you're not," Sherlock said resolutely. "The ship is sinking, and you burned the lifeboats. Now we're both going to be eaten." He glowered at Mycroft.
"I'm captain in the afterlife, then." Mycroft stuck his tongue out at Sherlock.
"There's no afterlife," Sherlock said seriously. When people died, they were either burned or buried. That was what had happened to Grandmother. He knew that there wasn't anything else after dying.
Mycroft paused. "Probably." He glanced slyly at his brother. "I still win."
"Fine," Sherlock grumbled. "But one day, I will. Just wait," he warned.
Smirking, Mycroft removed the pirate hat and tosses it onto Sherlock's face. "Don't make me wait too long," he said, stretching lazily.
Sherlock grabbed the pirate hat and set it down. "I'll do my best," he informed his annoying brother menacingly.
The older of the two smirked, an expression that infuriated Sherlock, before glancing around them at Sherlock's makeshift ship. He should tell Sherlock to clean it up before Mummy saw, but he rather liked the fort.
Meanwhile, Sherlock was now bored. Playing pirate had been entertaining enough, but it was over now. He glanced over at Mycroft, wondering if he would have any ideas.
Feeling Sherlock's bright eyes on him, Mycroft looked at him steadily. "What, bored already?" He sighed.
"Obviously," Sherlock pouted. "Please?" he said, knowing that Mycroft would know what he meant.
"It's late, Sherlock," Mycroft said regretfully. Then, he scowled. "I came up here to tell you to go to bed, and you distracted me."
"But I'm not tired! Besides, sleeping is a waste of time, Mycroft," Sherlock complained, frowning.
"I'll be in trouble if you don't," he said, annoyed. Their parents could always tell if the two of them didn't sleep enough. Mycroft had been put in charge in their temporary absence tonight to make sure that Sherlock didn't burn down the house and ate and slept properly.
"You never get in trouble. Please?" Sherlock begged. Mycroft had a talent for getting out of tight spots, while Sherlock usually got caught. Then again, Mycroft never really did anything bad.
"Just go to sleep," Mycroft laughed, "I'll help you clean this up, alright?"
"Fine," Sherlock said, resigned to the fact that he'd have to go to bed. Though he still had that torch hidden away. Maybe he could do some reading. He began cleaning the sheets up, dropping them all in a big pile in a corner of the room.
Gathering the various brooms and other mysterious pieces of wood, probably old parts of furniture in the attic, Mycroft recognized the silent, carefully planning look on Sherlock's face. "No reading," he growled.
"But why not?" Sherlock whined. Really, things were too boring otherwise. "I'll be bored!"
"If you sleep now, you'll be a pirate in your dreams." Mycroft grinned at him. "You'll have a better first mate than me in there." He turned around and placed the sticks into a neat pile that he would collect later.
"All right," Sherlock said hopping onto the bed. He buried himself in the covers, making a nest of sorts out of them. The sooner he fell asleep, the sooner he would wake up. "Night, Mycroft!" he said, yawning.
Smiling at his success in sending Sherlock to bed and avoiding a conflict with their parents, Mycroft went over and patted his little brother on the head, knowing it would irritate him. Sherlock scowled deeply and glared at him from under his blankets, producing the desired effect. Mycroft smirked teasingly at him, but with a bit of brotherly affection showing through his eyes. "Try not to get lost at sea," he said with a wink. "Goodnight, brother dear."