Author Notes: This story is about transgender Sherlock (female to male), so if you have any issues whatsoever with that topic, don`t read it.
On a different note, I will be away from the 18th-20th September, so if I am late in replying to any comments, it`s because I don`t have access to the internet in that time.
Important: The story takes place in the 90s (I wanted to stick close to the actual timeline of the show) and I have done my best to research certain historical aspects, concerning hormone suppressants. If you notice any errors, please tell me, so that I can fix it.
It should also go without saying that neither Sherlock represents all transgender people nor that his family`s reaction represents the reaction of all families to finding out that a child (or sibling) is transgender. This story is fiction, nothing more and nothing less.
Trigger warning: Mentions and discussions of body dysphoria! If that`s a trigger for you, don`t read this story.
And now, I have said enough. Enjoy the story!
Break Free
Short, dark curls, barely reaching down to his neck. Distinct cheekbones, with the promise to become even sharper in a few years and turn into striking features.
Sherlock smiled slightly. he liked the idea of having a prominent face, that no one would be able to forget so fast. He hadn`t decided yet if he wanted to become a chemist or if he was going to be a famous violinist. Both careers held their merits and Sherlock could see himself clearly in a lab coat working with acids or in a tuxedo on stage. He smiled and his mirror image mimicked his action.
Sherlock tipped a finger to his lips - full and nicely shaped - and frowned slightly. For a second he wondered if they were too full and lush, but then he shrugged. A lot of men had full lips and he actually rather liked his, so there was nothing wrong with them. Especially since everyone was supposed to look at his eyes first. Sherlock grinned and threw them wide open to watch how his expression changed to one of pure innocence. The play of colors in his iris was rather interesting and even Sherlock wasn`t sure if his eyes were really green, grey, blue or something in between. It made them even more fascinating.
Some minutes passed as Sherlock perfected some of his facial expressions, which had come in handy at school - cute, innocent, sad and fearful. Only, when he was content with the last one, Sherlock allowed his gaze to wander down to his chest.
He gulped. It hadn`t been a bad dream or some sort of delirium. His hands shook, when he placed them on top of the small buds that had formed on his chest. They were soft, tender and... so utterly wrong!
Sherlock took a shaky breath and tried to calm himself as his heart thundered in his ribcage. He had known that this was going to happen one day. After all, he wasn`t as ignorant as his stupid classmates. All the medical books had agreed on the fact that puberty would set in at the age of ten to sixteen for girls and at the age of twelve to seventeen for boys. Sherlock had hoped - because he didn`t pray - that his body would at least wait another few years, until it betrayed him. He was only eleven after all and the books had said that a couple of years after the breasts had started to grow, the first menstruation was expected if a girl`s body was healthy.
Sherlock stared at his white pants in the mirror and gripped the stupid buds on his chest even harder. His gaze flickered to the scissor on his desk, but then he remembered how hard it had been to even cut a piece of paper with it, the last time Sherlock had used it. He doubted that it was the correct tool to get right of these growing lumps of flesh.
His hands fell to his side as he kept staring at the image in the mirror. Actually, the... buds weren`t noticeable yet and could easily be hidden underneath a shirt. No one would probably even recognize them for what they were, if Sherlock was to walk around bare-chested. A lot of boys his age had buds of fat on their chests, but... they wouldn`t develop farther.
Moisture burned in Sherlock`s eyes and he pressed his lips tightly together to stop the tears from falling. Mycroft would notice if Sherlock had cried and Mummy would notice it as well and then his Dad would ask him if he was hurt or ill and...
"Scarlett!" Sherlock`s head snapped up at hearing the detested name that was always linked to him. "We want to visit your grandparents! Hurry and get dressed!"
Their grandparents, right! They didn`t visit them very often, especially since Sherlock`s Mummy didn`t like that they wanted to see their grandchildren all dressed up. She was of the opinion that children should wear whatever they liked and Sherlock had always been thankful for that. He owned a lot of jeans and shirts - some even bought in the boy`s part of the store - and only a few skirts and dresses, which were at the bottom of his wardrobe. He hadn`t worn such humiliating clothing in ages, but today...
Sherlock stared at the blue monstrosity, complete with ribbons and frill. White patent leather shoes with small heels and adorned with a light blue flower completed the outfit. His mind was already showing him how he would look wearing that dress. Not even his short hair would spare him the indignity of being confused with a girl. He could already hear his grandparents telling him what a cute, little girl he was and that he would be a beautiful lady one day. Maybe - after the first drink probably - his grandmother would tell him that he was going to inherit her wedding dress and that she so hoped to live to see his wedding. Sherlock didn`t mind his grandmother telling him that he would have a beautiful husband someday - the picture sat comfortably with him, although he hadn`t given it farther thought - but that he was expected to be a... wife!
Bile rose in his throat and Sherlock had to swallow a few times to keep his breakfast inside. He didn`t want that future... it wasn`t his future and it wasn`t even him they were seeing, when they looked at Sherlock. Everyone only saw...
"Scarlett!" Sherlock closed his eyes against the burning sensation of the tears that wanted to spill over. "Myc, please go and fetch your sister or we are going to be late."
Sister, the word echoed through Sherlock`s mind. That was all they ever saw when they looked at him: a sister, a daughter... a girl!
The sob shook his entry frame as it broke free and tears started running down his cheeks. He didn`t want that... this life, which wasn`t his and where his body was betraying him time and time again. He didn`t want it... he didn`t... No...
Sherlock`s knees hit the floor as his legs gave out, but he barely registered the pain as his body was wrenched by sobs. He didn`t care anymore that Mycroft would notice that he had cried or that Dad would ask him what had happened. Sherlock didn`t care anymore... it wasn`t important... not any longer... everything was meaningless!
"Scarlett!" The alarmed cry of the name of a girl that had never existed pierced Sherlock`s skull, but he didn`t look up at his brother. Not even as Mycroft kneeled down next to him and put an arm around his shoulder. "What`s wrong, little sis?"
The question was too much. Sherlock had thought that he would be able to play the role of the Holmes` daughter a little longer, but it was impossible. He couldn`t keep on pretending for another second, even... even if it meant that his family was going to hate him. Even if Mycroft didn`t take time to tell him tales of famous murderers anymore and even if Mummy never stroked his curls again... or if Dad was disappointed with him. Sherlock had gotten his hands on a book about experiences of transgender men and women and a lot of them hadn`t been accepted by their family... he doubted that it would be different for him. Even if they loved him now... No, it was hopeless.
"Not sis," Sherlock murmured and Mycroft`s arm closed tighter around his shoulders. "What do you mean?"
Scraping his courage together, Sherlock looked up and met the grey, piercing gaze of his brother. Mycroft had taught him so much and Sherlock wished that he wasn`t going to lose him today. "I`m not your sister," Sherlock stated clearly and before he could back out, he added. "I`m your brother."
Mycroft`s eyes widened and Sherlock ducked his head. He didn`t want to see disgust or mockery directed at him by his brother. Certainly, Mycroft would either laugh at him and tell Sherlock that it was only a phase or he would give him a lecture on how stupid he was or... he would understand that Sherlock was serious and then Mycroft would never want to see him again. Still, although Sherlock felt like his heart was going to burst in his chest, he still felt... relieved at the same time. It was the first time that he had told someone - who wasn`t a stranger - who he truly was. Sherlock took a shuddering breath. There was no way back now and no matter what was going to happen next, Sherlock felt like he had done a step in the right direction. A huge step, if the rushing of the blood through his veins was anything to go by. He felt giddy and terrified at once and Mycroft...
"I know."
Sherlock`s head snapped up. The grey eyes of his brother were still wide with surprise, but underlined with tenderness at the same time as Mycroft smiled down at him. "Of course, I knew all along, I`m your brother, after all... and I apologize for all the times, I called you my sister."
Sherlock shook his head in disbelief, sure that he was dreaming. He became rather convinced of it, when Mycroft hugged him close - which he only did on Sherlock`s birthday - and picked him up in his arms. Caught by surprise, Sherlock didn`t have the chance to protest as Mycroft carried him out of his room and down the stairs. His mind was spinning from Mycroft`s admission that he knew of Sherlock`s gender and even more so that he was... fine with it. Sherlock hadn`t been prepared for that outcome. To tell the truth, he had never really thought about the reactions of his family until today. He had pushed his feelings away, whenever someone had called him Scarlett. Sherlock had pretended that it was enough to know for himself that he was a boy and that strangers recognized him as such, but... it felt incredible to know that his brother accepted him. Even more than just accepted him, if Sherlock was to judge from the way his brother cradled his head with one hand as they stepped into the living-room.
It was only then that it hit Sherlock that Mycroft had obviously carried him there, so that they could tell their parents. He gulped and peeked up at his older brother. "Mycroft..."
"Shh, it`s fine, brother dear. Don`t worry about it."
Being accepted as what he was by his brother was almost enough to soothe Sherlock`s nerves... until Mummy stepped into the living-room. He heard her intake of breath and then hurried steps as she crossed the room, to where Mycroft was still pressing Sherlock against him - he hadn`t let him down yet.
"Myc! Scarlett! Dear God, did something happen? Are you hurt, sweetheart?" The last question was directed at him and Sherlock felt himself starting to tremble as their mother came to stand next to them. He could feel the worry radiating from her in waves as her gaze swept over them. She must have figured out by now that Sherlock wasn`t hurt physically. Mummy always knew such things from a single glance. Sherlock had never been able to hide injuries from her, no matter if it was a minor scratch or a sprained wrist.
"What`s wrong Elizabeth?" Their father, calling from the kitchen doorway. Sherlock knew without looking that he was hovering there, trying to decide if he was needed or if his wife was going to handle the situation on her own.
Sherlock took a shaking breath and raised his head to meet his mother`s worried gaze. Mycroft squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and for a second, Sherlock hesitated. His brother was mostly right, but what if he had gotten it wrong this time? What if their parents weren`t going to accept or understand that they didn`t have a daughter? Wouldn`t it be better if Mycroft and he talked about it in private? If his brother supported him, that would be enough, wouldn`t it?
His mother frowned down at him. "What`s wrong, honey?" And when Sherlock still didn`t answer. "You are scaring me. Scarlett, speak with us!"
The words tumbled from Sherlock`s mouth before he could stop them. "I`m not Scarlett... I never was! Scarlett is a girl`s name and I... I am not a girl!"
His mother`s eyes widened and Sherlock hid his face against Mycroft`s shirt. He didn`t want to see the disgust in Mummy`s eyes. He didn`t want her to laugh at him or tell him that it was only a phase. He didn`t want...
A huff from the doorway of the kitchen and retreating footsteps. Sherlock`s eyes watered. His Dad was leaving! He didn`t want to hear about his supposed daughter being a boy.
A tremor ran through Sherlock`s body as he pressed closer against Mycroft and clenched his fists into the fabric of his shirt. He wasn`t afraid that their father was going to beat him - he never had and Sherlock doubted that he would start now - but Sherlock feared that... he had just lost him. His breath hitched in his throat and he felt like crying once more. If it was possible to turn back the time, Sherlock would happily do it, if it meant that his parents didn`t...
"Oh, Darling!" He tensed at the tearful voice of his mother and prepared himself for her next words. At least, Sherlock tried, since he couldn`t have foreseen what she chose to say. "I`m so glad that you have finally told us!"
Sherlock`s breath escaped him in a whoosh, when Mummy enfolded them both, Mycroft and him, in her arms and pressed a kiss to his messy curls. Sherlock was only barely aware of being put down by Mycroft and how Mummy hugged him close afterwards. His mind was in an uproar as possible explanations for this unpredicted outcome ran through his head. Was it possible that both, Mycroft and their mother had known that Sherlock was a boy and were fine with it? The first point wasn`t so impossible, since his brother and Mummy were both very observant and always noticed more than the average person - even more than Sherlock did, to his chagrin. Still, that they just accepted it, appeared to be like a dream... a dream, that Sherlock had never dared entertaining.
"What`s running through that thick skull of yours, brother mine?" Mycroft`s amused voice brought Sherlock back to present. It took him a few seconds to realize that he was sitting at the kitchen table, with an afghan slung around his shoulders and a steaming mug of... hot chocolate in front of him. Sherlock blinked and sniffed. Dark chocolate - seventy percent of cocoa - with lots of sugar, a dash of cinnamon and chili, topped with whipped cream. It was his favorite hot chocolate and only their Dad prepared it exactly like that. He looked up and met the warm eyes of their Dad from across the table, cradling a mug of his own in his hands. "It`s not traditional, but I think hot chocolate is much better suited for a celebration than champagne." The voice of their Dad was soft - tender and affectionate - as he smiled at Sherlock.
"What..." Sherlock shook his head and tried clearing his mind. He felt like he had fallen in a parallel universe, since nothing appeared to make sense anymore. A glance to his right showed him his mother, blinking back tears and smiling proudly and to his right... Mycroft with a smug grin on his face. Alright, not a parallel universe then, if his brother still looked like he had figured out all puzzles of humanity, but it was still strange.
"So," Their Dad tapped his fingers against his mug. "Have you thought of a name already? If you haven`t, it`s fine, but you should tell us how you wish to be called from now on, since Scarlett is obviously taboo." Sherlock nodded, but he kept silent. He still waited for his alarm clock to ring and his mother calling for him to get up and ready for school.
"You should say something, little brother, if you don`t want Mummy to come up with some ridiculous endearments to call you."
"Mycroft Edward Georg Holmes, don`t pressure your brother!"
"If that`s the only way to get you to use my full name," Mycroft muttered and Sherlock suddenly grinned. It started with a pull on his lips and ended with a huge grin that lit up his whole face as he glanced from Mycroft to their Mum and met the twinkling eyes of their Dad. No dream could be so realistic and so fantastic. "Sherlock," he said and all heads turned towards him. "William Sherlock Scott Holmes, but I`ll go by Sherlock."
Their Mum smiled. "Thank God, I always feared you would opt for something mundane like Oliver or John."
Sherlock snorted and took a sip from his hot chocolate - it was delicious - before something occurred to him. Something that had nagged at him since the start of this conversation. "You aren`t surprised that I`m a boy."
It wasn`t a question, but Mycroft still murmured something along the lines of "Stupid little brother" and their Mum rolled her eyes, but it was their Dad who spoke. "Mycroft and your mother suspected it for years. Naturally, I didn`t see it at first." He winked at their Mum at that. "But when Elizabeth told me a couple of years ago, it wasn`t hard to see the evidence."
Sherlock nodded slowly. That explained why they didn`t have any difficulties using the correct pronouns, but some things were still unclear to him. "But why didn`t you..." He made a vague gesture with his hand and Mycroft snorted next to him. "You can`t just tell someone that you think that they are transgender, Sherlock. It`s just not on." Sherlock narrowed his eyes at Mycroft`s patronizing tone and was just about to tell him that he had said much worse things to him, when his mother - probably sensing an argument - cut in. "All the evidence pointed to the fact that you are a boy, Sherlock, but no one can read someone else`s mind. You were only five when the idea that you were misgendered at birth occurred to me and at that time, it was still likely that it was only a phase. Of course, it became apparent that was not the case, but I still didn`t want to push you into an admission before you were ready. Myc and your Dad agreed with me and we tried to drop enough hints for you to understand that you being a boy, is completely fine with us."
Sherlock gaped at his Mum after her little speech.
"Obviously, not enough hints for my stupid, stupid, little brother," Mycroft muttered and Sherlock kicked him against his shin.
"Boys, behave! Or we will postpone this conversation!" Their Mum sounded more amused than annoyed, but Sherlock still didn`t want to test her. Especially not, when a warmth spread through his body at being addressed as her boy.
Sherlock reached for his mug and didn`t even try to hide the silly grin that stretched his lips almost painfully. When he had woken up this morning, he had thought that it would be just another day of playing a tiresome role. A wave of panic had hit Sherlock, when he had remembered that they were going to visit their grandparents and he almost hadn`t made it out of bed. Apropos grandparents...
"Shouldn`t we be on our way to grandmother and grandfather?" Their grandparents didn`t like late arrivals, although that didn`t say much, since they distasted most things that didn`t fit into their narrow-minded view of the world. Sherlock shuddered and drew the afghan closer around himself. If their grandparents found out that he wasn`t a girl, then they would distaste him as well. It wasn`t that Sherlock was very fond of them, but... he would rather not have them look at him like he was a rat in their larder.
"Your Dad has phoned them and excused us with a stomach flu." Sherlock looked up just in time to see their Mum smile affectionately at their Dad. He wondered if someone would ever look at him like this, some day in the future. From his experiences with his peers so far, it seemed unlikely and if you added to their dislike for his intelligence the fact that he didn`t fall into the normal spectrum of gender, then...
"You don`t have to worry about your grandparents, Sherlock." The arm of his Mum settled around Sherlock`s shoulders and he leaned gratefully into the contact. It didn`t matter that she had gotten the reason for his stillness wrong. That she was there for Sherlock and comforted him, was all that counted right now. "We won`t ask you to pretend for them to be someone you aren`t." His Dad nodded at him and Sherlock had to blink back tears, when he placed his hand on top of Sherlock`s on the table. "And if they don`t accept you, then they will never see anyone of us, ever again." Mycroft`s voice was cold and final. A great contrast to how his fingers ran gently through Sherlock`s curls. Their parents didn`t show any signs that they disagreed with his brother and Sherlock allowed himself to relax farther. He had always known that he had an extraordinary family, but until today he hadn`t realised just how much they meant to him. No matter how annoying his big brother could be or how much he hated tidying up his room on his Mum`s orders... or how his worst nightmares came true, when his Dad tried a new recipe for dinner, Sherlock still loved them. Loved his parents and his brother with all his heart, who... returned the feeling. The realisation took his breath away. Not so much the fact that they loved each other, but... how much they loved each other. If they hadn`t accepted him, it would have been...
No, Sherlock pushed that thought away, it hadn`t happened and it would never happen. Not now and not in the future.
The future... Puberty! Breasts and Menstruations! His teachers calling him Miss and Scarlett... Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut against the onslaught of nightmarish images. Now was not the time to picture how often he was going to be misgendered or what it would feel like to use tampons...
A strangled sob tore past his lips and he felt more than saw the alarmed reactions of his parents. Mycroft inched his chair closer to his. Mum tightened her arm around his shoulder. Dad got up from his chair and came around the table. His arms enfolded Sherlock from behind and it was probably the only thing that kept Sherlock from breaking down completely. They didn`t ask any questions, just holding him gently and allowing him to order his thoughts and Sherlock had never been more grateful than for this quiet, peaceful minutes. The storm in his brain subsided as Sherlock concentrated on the cocoon of warmth his family had enfolded him in. Finally, his heart rate slowed down to normal and Sherlock blinked his eyes open once more.
"My body," was all he offered as an explanation for his behavior, but he was sure that his family had understood what he meant by that. Sherlock was proven correct by his Mum a second later. "You worry about the onset of puberty." It wasn`t a question, but Sherlock still nodded, although he knew that it was pointless to talk about it. After all, there was no way to stop the development of his body. Sherlock had done some research after all and he would only be allowed to take testosterone supplements, after he had turned sixteen. There was no way - at least no legal way - to get them at an earlier age and until then... he would look like a girl. He shuddered in disgust... self-disgust. If Sherlock only pictured himself with breasts and wide hips, the urge to scratch away on his own skin became overwhelming.
"Sherlock, did you hear what Mummy said?" Mycroft sounded a little exasperated and Sherlock looked up to meet his brother`s annoyed gaze, before turning to their Mum. She appeared more amused than annoyed as she tousled his hair. "I just told you that there a medicaments that - when administered - can suppress the release of gender specific hormones and therefore stop your body from going into puberty."
Sherlock`s eyes widened in disbelief, even as hope started blooming in his heart. He had never heard of the possibility, otherwise he would have found the courage to talk with his family much earlier... or at least, Sherlock wouldn`t have despaired so much. "And when I`m sixteen, I can get the right hormones and I`ll enter puberty like every other boy?" Sherlock couldn`t keep the excitement out of his voice as he looked at his mother, waiting for confirmation. She was a scientist after all - a mathematician to be correct - although she didn`t work in the field anymore. Nevertheless, Sherlock knew that she was still in contact with some of her former colleagues and people, which were working for research labs. If someone knew anything about it, it would be his Mum.
His Mum, who wore a conflicted expression as she met his gaze. "The problem is that the medicaments for hormone suppression therapy are only prescribed to fight certain types of cancer and to children that enter puberty too early and they aren`t able to cope with it. Let`s say, when a girl gets her first menstruation at the age of seven for example."
Before Sherlock could get a question in, his brother continued and gave him the impression that this wasn`t the first time they had discussed this topic. Sherlock was too busy listening to Mycroft, to figure out how he was feeling about that. "The discussion if transgender children should be allowed to delay puberty by using this medication is still ongoing. There are a lots of fundamentalists which are against it - naturally - but there are also a lot of real experts which advocate for it. Fact is that it`s still going to take a few years, probably until the turn of the millennium until a decision is made, but I`m certain that..."
"Until the turn of the millennium?!" Sherlock didn`t care that he was squeaking as he stared at his brother in disbelief. How could Mycroft sit calmly at the table, while telling Sherlock that it would be another nine years until the only chance for him to stop his body from betraying him, was going to be legal?!
In nine years... Sherlock would be twenty by then. His body would have gone through puberty at that point - through the wrong puberty - and it would take years to undo the damage of that. At least part of it, since Sherlock knew from his own research that some changes of his body would be permanent, like wider - womanly - hips. That wouldn`t even be the worst of it, if Sherlock was able to skip to his sixteenths birthday right away to start correcting the mistakes of nature. No, the worst part was... getting to this point and hating every second of it. He had felt like crawling out of his skin just by looking at his reflection in the mirror this morning. How much worse would it be, when the image of himself, in his mind, and his outward appearance didn`t fit together at all, anymore?!
"Sherlock, calm down!" Strong hands squeezed his shoulders and moved down over his arms in soothing movements. "Breathe! Yes, that`s my good boy!" Only after his breathing had slowed down somewhat, Sherlock recognized that he had obviously started hyperventilating from the way his head swam and his heart pounded away in his chest. It took him several more minutes, until Sherlock was able to think straight again and when he did, he leaned back into the strong arms of his Dad with a sob. "I can`t stand it! How am I supposed to... I hate my body! I hate it!" Another sob shook his thin frame and his Dad tightened his embrace - still standing behind Sherlock`s chair - and prevented Sherlock scratching away at his own skin.
"Elizabeth!" The tone of his Dad`s voice was harder than usual as he addressed his wife. "I think you have the answer you were looking for and it would be rather cruel to leave Sherlock in the dark any longer."
Sherlock blinked in confusion and more tears ran down his cheeks. He didn`t understand what was going on as his Mum sighed next to him, before her arms encircled Sherlock as well. It was a brief and - thanks to their respective positions at the kitchen table - slightly uncomfortable huge, that ended with a kiss - pressed to Sherlock`s forehead. "I`m sorry, Darling, but I had to see for myself how bad your body dysphoria is to judge which route to take from here. Obviously," Sherlock stared at his Mum in disbelief as a grin brightened up her face. "We are going to take the only semi-legal option." With these words and an order to all of them to stay where they were, their Mum hurried from the room.
"What," Sherlock started, but a chuckle from Mycroft interrupted him. "Just wait and see, little brother." Sherlock glared half-heartedly at him. It just wasn`t possible for him to be earnestly cross with his older brother, when he was grinning at him the same way he had done last Christmas. When Mycroft had been eager to see Sherlock`s expression as he opened the present from his older brother - a chemistry set for advanced learners. Somehow, this realisation stopped his hope from dying, while he waited for their Mum to return.
When she did, it was with a small stack of papers and a proud smile on her face as she spread them on the table. Most of them appeared to be letters, written with a typewriter and addressed to his Mum by a Professor Helen Rockwood. The name didn`t mean anything to Sherlock and neither did the figures and charts he could see on one of the papers, but he suspected that it must have something to do with hormone suppression therapy.
He was proven right by his Mum`s next words. "Helen is an old friend of mine and she is working as a psychologist and her specialist field is body dysphoria in young adults and teenagers. She is advocating for allowing transgender teenagers access to hormone suppression medication and when we first thought that you, Sherlock, are in fact a boy, I contacted her. Although I admit that I didn`t know anything about hormone suppression therapy or body dysphoria, when I wrote her a couple of years ago. She helped me understand it and she would be willing to prescribe the necessary medication to you - after a psychological examination and some medical tests of course."
Sherlock stared at his Mum, who was grinning at him, as he tried to process what he had just been told. He would get the chance to avoid the wrong puberty and live as a boy... as who he was. It was fantastic. Almost too good to be true!
Sherlock narrowed his eyes at that thought. Why would a professional therapist - even if she was pro transgender rights - risk her career and prescribe this medication to him, when she had never met him? He scanned the face of his Mum for clues and finally came up with an answer, when he noticed the gleam in her eyes. "She owes you something." Sherlock pondered his own words for a second and then shook his head. "No, you know something that could ruin her even faster than if it came to light that I got the medication, so..."
"Oh please, it`s not that complicated, little brother." Sherlock glared at Mycroft, who had the nerve to smirk at him. "Professor Rockwood has never finished her studies and therefore wouldn`t be allowed to work in her job, if it ever came out. Here," Mycroft pointed at the seal on the letter paper. "Her title is printed in smaller letters than is usual for someone of her profession. It`s probably an unconscious action on her part to stop others from paying too much attention to her career, although I doubt that the ordinary public would..."
"Myc, that`s enough and not important!" It was Sherlock`s turn to smirk at his brother as he shut his mouth and pouted in his mug. Mycroft hated to be interrupted or called by their Mum`s nickname for him.
"So to make it short," Sherlock`s Dad cut in, before his wife could start on a long explanation. "We are going to contact Professor Rockwood and make sure that you get an appointment as soon as possible. She is going to write in your file that puberty started too soon and that you aren`t mentally able to cope with it, so if someone takes a look at them, they won`t find anything suspicious. She will also write you an referral to an endocrinologist, who will make sure that you get the correct dosage of hormone suppressants. Are you okay with that, son?"
Sherlock beamed and jumped up from his chair. Usually he would hate to be classified as mentally unable to cope with any development, but since it was - in some way at least - the truth, Sherlock didn`t mind at all. And even if he had minded... it was a low price to pay to be able to look in the mirror without finding fault in what he saw.
"Thanks, Dad, Mum!" Sherlock didn`t care that the afghan fell to the floor as he slung his arms around his Dad and was soon enveloped by both his parents.
"Everything is going to be fine, Sweetie," his Mum whispered as she pressed a kiss on top of his unruly head. Sherlock decided that Sweetie was a much better nickname than Myc and that it didn`t sound girly at all. "If you ever have the need to talk, you can come to me." Sherlock nodded against his Dad`s chest as he tousled his hair and he didn`t feel ashamed by the tears that had leaked from his eyes once more, when he parted from his parents. They were happy tears after all.
Sherlock glanced at Mycroft, certain that his brother would wear a sneer on his face, since he didn`t like sentimental moments, but instead found that his brother was grinning like a madman. "What..."
"Can`t I be happy, when my little brother is happy?"
Sherlock gaped at him. He didn`t doubt that Mycroft was happy for him or that he was on his side, but... he hadn`t expected him to show it so openly. Usually, that wasn`t his style. And true to that, Mycroft`s expression turned calculating a second later, before he looked at their Mum with his most innocent smile. "May I have your car, Mummy?"
Right, Mycroft had gotten his driving license a couple of months ago and from what Sherlock had witnessed, he was a careful driver. Still, he couldn`t remember that his parents had ever allowed him to drive without one of them in the car. And Mycroft had seemed fine with that arrangement, so why would he want to drive alone today of all days?
"Please, I want to go shopping with Sherlock. He needs new clothes, especially for festive occasions. You can`t let him run around in washed-out shorts and childish T-shirts forever."
Sherlock was too stunned to say or do anything. He wasn`t even listening to the discussion going on around him, until Mycroft dangled the car keys in front of his face. "Put some clothes on, brother mine. We are going out for a trip to the city!"
Sherlock was dressed in under five minutes and hurried out the front door to find his brother already behind the wheel and his parents next to the driver`s door. "You know that`s an exception, Myc?"
Sherlock could only imagine how his brother rolled his eyes as he climbed in at the passenger`s side. He had never been a fan of going shopping. Mostly because he always ended up with at least one humiliating dress or skirt. But not this time, this time he wouldn`t get a nice dress, but probably a suit with a matching button down shirt... No, make that two or three, if Sherlock interpreted Mycroft`s smug grin correctly. Their Mum must have seen it as well, since the words she called after them, when Mycroft started the engine, were: "Don`t you dare and buy your brother more than three ties!"
OOO
They only got one tie in the end. Sherlock didn`t like the feeling of how they restricted him - at least it felt like this to him - and Mycroft had finally given up to bribe him in choosing another one. His older brother was probably glad that Sherlock had at least accepted one - in bordeaux - to go with his new anthracite suit and white button down shirt.
Sherlock glanced at the shopping bags Mycroft was carrying - five so far - and wondered what their parents would say when the bill was presented to them. Especially since his elder brother appeared intend on giving out all the money, their parents had given to them. "Four button down shirts, one suit, one tie, a couple of jeans, eight T-shirts, black trousers, trainers, a pair of leather shoes, a light jacket for the summer, swimming trunks... do you need anything else?"
Sherlock gnawed at his lower lip. Actually, he didn`t need anything else. What Mycroft had bought him would get him through the rest of the summer comfortably and you couldn`t buy winter clothes in June anyway. Now, Sherlock didn`t really need anything else, only... But no, that would be girlish, wouldn`t it? And he wasn`t a girl and his family was going to make sure that he never had to look like one, therefore it would be rather counterproductive if he asked Mycroft to get...
"I don`t see what`s wrong with getting your ears pierced."
Sherlock`s head snapped up to meet his brother`s warm eyes as Mycroft grinned down at him. "It wasn`t that hard to figure out, Sherlock. You have looked at the jeweler, whenever we passed the shop - for more than five seconds - and you tugged at your earlobes every time. So yes, you can get your ears pierced if you want to."
Sherlock shook his head, although his eyes wandered longingly to the shop window of the jeweler. He had always hated dresses, skirts and long hair, but at the same time he had envied the girls for their earrings. Not the long, dangling pendants that glittered in the sun, but he had easily been able to imagine himself with a stud or two. Just a plain silver stud, preferably shaped like a skull or a gun... although a simple circle of silver would be fine as well. Still, Sherlock had never seen boys with earrings - or even studs - at least not at his school and he didn`t want to...
"You shouldn`t allow others to dictate what you are going to wear."
Sherlock rolled his eyes at that and sighed at the same time. "That`s easy for you to say. When I go to secondary school after the summer holidays, there will be a lot of children, that knew me as Scarlett and they will never believe that I`m a boy if I have my ears pierced."
Now, it was Mycroft`s turn to roll his eyes and Sherlock knew the expression on his elder brother`s face that screamed stupid, little brother as he shook his head at Sherlock. "Firstly, you are not going to the secondary school in the next city, but to another one." Mycroft held up his hand and Sherlock shut his mouth and kept his protests to himself. "You will have to take the bus and it will take you forty minutes every morning to go to school, but no one there will know you and the headmaster is an old friend of our Dad. He will be the only one, who gets to see your school report and your other teachers will only know you as Sherlock Holmes."
Sherlock gaped at Mycroft as it hit him what this meant. He wouldn`t need to explain to everyone why he was a boy and not a girl and the children at the new school wouldn`t have any other reason to dislike him than his character traits.
"Maybe, you will manage to socialize with some of your peers this time." Sherlock scowled, he really had to learn to blank his features, if he didn`t want Mycroft to read him like a book.
"I don`t need friends." Most of the children at school were boring, stupid, superficial or all three of the above. Sherlock didn`t see why he should spent any more time with them than absolutely necessary. It wasn`t as if he enjoyed playing useless games with a ball or chasing after each other.
"You might not need friends, but it`s always useful to make acquaintances with important people. But if you don`t need friends," The gleam in Mycroft`s eyes showed that he believed that he had won their argument. "Then why do you care what they think if you have your ears pierced? They will only see you as a boy, who wears some jewelry."
Really, Mycroft`s words made sense, especially since Sherlock really wanted to have studs. He nodded slowly. "Alright." A bright smile lit up his brother`s face, but he didn`t make any smart comments as he led the way across the street to the jeweler.
"Hey, Holmes!"
They both turned as three young men hurried towards them. Sherlock reckoned that they had to be around Mycroft`s age, especially since they seemed to know his elder brother, who nodded shortly to them in greeting. "Miller, Robertson, Smith, good to see you, but I fear that I don`t have time for you today."
The three young men returned Mycroft`s greeting and Sherlock gathered from their polite, but reserved behavior, that they were some sort of acquaintances instead of friends. "Do you plan on buying out all the shops, Holmes?" One of the men - Miller, Sherlock guessed - pointed at the shopping bags. Small talk, how boring. Sherlock sighed inwardly, but kept silent and hoped that his brother would get rid of them soon.
"Sherlock needed some new clothes, he shot up during the last year and most of his old clothes aren`t fitting him any longer." Sherlock squirmed as all eyes turned to him and he barely managed to stop himself from hiding behind Mycroft as the young men regarded him with neutral expressions. Certainly, they had to know that Mycroft officially had a sister and they were going to ask annoying questions any second now and Sherlock really didn`t feel like dealing with so much stupidity.
"Ah, so Sherlock is it?" One of the young men - Smith, Sherlock assumed - asked and extended his hand. Baffled, Sherlock shook it and also the hands of the other two blokes, which nodded at him. "Your brother never told us your name," Miller winked at Sherlock. "He was only always talking about his little brother or the little pest at home. You probably wanted us to call him Holmes Junior, didn`t you?" The question was directed at Mycroft, who merely snorted and rolled his eyes in reply.
"We will be off then, see you at Oxford, Holmes." The men nodded politely at each other and Sherlock was barely able to contain himself, until they were out of earshot, before he turned to his elder brother. "You told them... you said that I was your... brother... all along."
The hug that followed his words, was unexpected - and uncomfortable with all the bags digging in Sherlock`s back - but he still relaxed in Mycroft`s arms. "I told you that I always knew, so there was no use pretending that you were something you are not. You were always my brother and you`ll always be."
Sherlock nodded against Mycroft`s chest, not trusting his voice to speak as a whirlwind of emotions raced through him. "So, shall we get your ears pierced?" Mycroft asked as he straightened up once more and gestured to the jeweler.
Sherlock beamed. "Yes, I`m going to be the only boy with studs."
His elder brother chuckled at the announcement and opened the door to the shop for Sherlock to enter. "Don`t get your hopes up, there might be more fashionable boys like you at school."
Sherlock only grinned, his heart light as he walked into the shop. It was one of his firsts steps on his way to become the man that Sherlock wanted to be.