Author Notes: I really like to imagine how Mycroft and Sherlock were, when they were younger and that`s how this story came into being.^^ Some Hurt/Comfort and a lot of fluff. :) The title was inspired by the song "Kinderaugen" ("Children`s Eyes") by Michelle.

Enjoy! =)

Children`s eyes

The house was empty.

Mycroft allowed himself a sigh as he set his baggage down and let his gaze wander through the entrance hall. He had gotten a phone call from his parents yesterday - just before he had been about to leave Eton - and they had informed him that they had decided on a spontaneous holiday. A holiday which was supposed to last five weeks and Mycroft wasn`t stupid enough to believe that Elena and George Holmes hadn`t been planning their holiday for weeks or even months.

His lips curled in distaste at the thought that his parents didn`t even care enough to welcome him back home when he came back from Eton for the summer. At least, Mycroft thought darkly and furrowed his brow in anger as he peeked in every room on the ground floor, they could have left them some of the staff. His mother had told him that a charlady would come twice a week and also stock up on their supplies, but it would have been nice if they hadn`t sent the cook on holidays as well. Mycroft wasn`t disenchanted enough to believe that he would be able to cook something decent. He hadn`t bothered to learn cooking in the first eight years of his life and after spending most of the last four years at Eton, he was used to getting his meals regularly.

Well, he mused as he climbed up the stairs to the first floor, it had to be possible for him to make toast and mother and father had left him enough money at home to get take away every day - if it was necessary - for the next weeks. There would probably even be some money left, since Mycroft knew that Sherlock - his baby brother - wasn`t much of an eater. At least, he hadn`t eaten much, when Mycroft had last seen him at Easter.

He remembered a quiet, little boy with curious eyes and messy curls, who only picked at his meals. Mycroft recalled that he had asked their parents if they thought it healthy if Sherlock didn`t eat more, but they had just waved it aside, telling him that he was fine. Only a week later, Mycroft had received a post card from them, sent from Amsterdam and he had known that Sherlock had been left alone with a nanny again. It was the only reason why Mycroft felt sorry, whenever he was away at Eton - because he couldn`t be with Sherlock.

Really, he would like to see his baby brother more often than for a few weeks every year and Mycroft was already counting the days until Sherlock would attend Eton as well. He had still three years ahead of him and Mycroft would be fifteen then, but he would have enough time left to show Sherlock all the important places and bring him in contact with influential people. Mycroft would make sure that his baby brother had a good start at Eton, but for now... he had to find him.

Mycroft glanced in every room, noting how long it had been since someone had entered it, before moving to the next one. Of course, he could also call out for Sherlock, but he doubted that it would be a successful attempt. His baby brother only answered to his calls, when he felt like it. Mycroft sighed as he closed the door to his father`s office behind him - he had been sure that Sherlock was in there - and continued his search. Maybe he should call for the nanny - his parents had assured him that she would only leave when Mycroft had returned home. It was the only reason why Mycroft had agreed to staying a day longer than planned at Eton to help organizing the sleeping arrangements for the new first years with a few older students.

Finally, having searched every room on the first floor, Mycroft went to the second one. It was a rather desperate move as he opened the door to his brother`s room - Sherlock was rarely where he should be - only to stop in surprise. His baby brother lay on his bed, curled into himself, with his back to the door and completely dressed, expect for his shoes, which stood in front of the bed. There was no trace of the nanny anywhere. Mycroft frowned as he took in how warm and sticky it was in the room. Dust was dancing in the light of the afternoon sun and he wondered when someone had bothered to open the window for the last time.

Crossing the room, Mycroft opened one of the windows and allowed the fresh air to come in, before he turned to the small boy in the bed.

"Sherlock." He touched the boney shoulder carefully, not wanting to startle his baby brother if he was sleeping - which seemed likely since Sherlock hadn`t reacted to him entering the room.

"Myc!"

Sherlock`s voice sounded hoarse as he called his name in relief and wonder. Big, blue and innocent eyes met Mycroft`s as his baby brother turned on his back to look at him. Sherlock was the only one who was allowed to call him by a nickname and Mycroft admitted that he already dreaded the day when Sherlock would grow out of it. He was rather glad that this year wasn`t the time yet.

"I`m sorry, Sher," Mycroft sat down on the edge of the bed and smiled at how the innocent blue eyes lit up at the nickname. He had told Sherlock that Sher sounded like the word cher in French and meant beloved in English. It wasn`t that Mycroft had needed a reason to use an endearment for his baby brother, but he liked to show Sherlock how much he meant to him. "I wanted to be here sooner, but something got in the way, but now I`m here and we have the whole house to us." He stroked the messy curls and Sherlock smiled back weakly at him. "I`ll just tell your nanny that she can go now and..."

A quiet snort from Sherlock that almost sounded like a sob, interrupted him. "She has already left."

Mycroft frowned at this information. "When did she leave?"

"Yesterday."

Sudden anger rose in Mycroft at that revelation. How did that stupid woman dare to leave his baby brother - a five year old - alone for a whole day? Sherlock was much more advanced than his peers, but he wasn`t old enough to fend for himself.

"I`m sorry, Myc." Fearful blue eyes blinked up at him. "It`s my fault. I told her that she would never get her boyfriend back, by dressing as cheaply as she did and that he thought her boring and wouldn`t look at her twice anymore. She left then. I`m sorry."

Mycroft shook his head in shock as he stared into the teary eyes of his baby brother. Sherlock`s thin lips were quivering as he met Mycroft`s gaze. He must have picked up on Mycroft`s anger and thought that it was directed at him.

"There is no need to apologize, Sher," Mycroft continued to run his fingers through messy curls. "She is an adult and she should be able to handle what you said to her. It was irresponsible to leave you alone in the house." Mycroft would tell his parents at the next chance that they should hire another nanny for Sherlock. This one wouldn`t see his baby brother ever again if he had any say in it. But that was for a later date, for now Mycroft had to take care of Sherlock. His eyes took in the still fearful and wide eyes of his baby brother, that were red rimmed and puffy from crying.

Mycroft gulped. Of course, Sherlock had cried. He was a five-year-old boy, who had been left alone in the house, without knowing when someone would come back. Sherlock might have already learned how to read and do math calculations, but that didn`t mean that he was able to take care of his every need all by himself. His dry and partially torn lips were proof of that.

Mycroft narrowed his eyes and extended a hand to touch his brother`s face and... Sherlock flinched away. If possible Sherlock`s eyes grew even wider, so that he looked more like a fearful, small animal than like a sweet, little boy. The blood drained from Mycroft`s face as the realisation why Sherlock reacted like that sank in. "Sher," he started, moving his hand slowly, until it touched the cheek of his brother tenderly. "Did your nanny do anything else to you? Or," a cold fist clenched around his heart as he considered that thought. "Did our parents hurt you?"

They had never slapped him and they hadn`t allowed any nanny to slap their children. At least that was something Mycroft was grateful for - when he listened to the tales of some of his peers - but that didn`t mean that no one had slapped Sherlock. His baby brother was smarter than most children his age and more difficult to handle - when he wasn`t in one of his quiet moods - than Mycroft had been, but that didn`t give anyone the right to raise a hand to him. Sherlock`s lips trembled as he leaned in his caress and it broke Mycroft`s heart to see him like that. "I was bad. Mummy and Daddy were away on a trip and I was investigating the habits of the frogs at the pond. I was dirty when I get in and..." A tear ran down Sherlock`s cheek. Mycroft brushed it away with his thumb and took a deep breath at the same time to push back his anger. He could imagine how Sherlock`s tale ended, but he had to know something else.

"Did she slap you with her hand or... did she use something else?"

"Hands and...a broomstick." Sherlock`s voice was barely above a whisper and Mycroft closed his eyes as they started to burn with unshed tears. Tears of anger, because that nanny had dared to hurt his baby brother and tears of compassion, because Sherlock had suffered like that.

"Why didn`t you tell someone? Our parents? Me?" Mycroft chocked the question out as he tried to regain his composure. Their parents should be here now. They should comfort Sherlock and make sure that the nanny was sued. They should have noticed that she had hurt his baby brother right away. Instead they were on a safari in South Africa.

"But you knew. You all knew." More tears ran down Sherlock`s cheeks as he looked up at Mycroft, his eyes filled with betrayal and hurt.

"What?!" Mycroft stared at him in disbelief. Could it truly be that their parents had known and allowed... No, that would be...

He couldn`t believe it, didn`t want to believe it, but if Sherlock said it was like that, then Mycroft would make sure that it didn`t happen again. He had made some acquaintances at Eton, his teachers adored him and Mycroft was sure that he would be able to get Sherlock away from his parents if necessary.

"Miss Cooker said that... that you all know. That it`s my punishment for being a... freak." The last word ended in a sob.

That stupid woman, how dare she insulting his perfect and smart baby brother like that? To make him feel like he wasn`t fine exactly the way he was? Taking a deep breath, Mycroft gently closed his arms around Sherlock`s waist and put him on his lap, encircling his sniffling baby brother in his arms and allowing him to cry in Mycroft`s shirt. "Shh, Sher, it`s alright. Miss Cooker won`t come back and what she said wasn`t true. We didn`t know about her treatment of you or we wouldn`t have allowed her near you." Mycroft just hoped that he was speaking for their parents as well. He had to have a serious conversation with them, when they came back.

Sherlock`s sobs subsided to sniffles and hopeful blue eyes - still bright with tears - looked up at him. "Really? She said," Sherlock gnawed at his lower lip and Mycroft placed a finger against it to stop him from hurting himself. "She said that Mummy and Daddy know and didn`t care and that you," his voice cracked, but Sherlock clenched his hands in Mycroft`s shirt and carried on. "You would know everything and that you could see us and that you would know if I left my room or even my bed and that you wouldn`t come if I did and..." A dry sob caught in Sherlock`s throat and Mycroft pressed Sherlock`s face against his shirt once more as he struggled to absorb what his baby brother had just told him.

That stupid woman must have heard how he had told his parents during the Easter holidays that it was interesting how well people could keep everyone under surveillance in the bigger cities. Mycroft had also mentioned that it would bring a lot of advantages and that he was interested in that field. Of course, Sherlock had listened to that conversation as well and he must have drawn the conclusion that Mycroft was in fact watching him, after what his nanny had told him. Yes, he was a smart little boy, but still... a little boy, no one could expect him to know that something like that wasn`t happening if he didn`t have any proof for or against it. The part about staying in his bed...

Mycroft touched one hand to Sherlock`s forehead. Dry and slightly warm to the touch. Now that Mycroft looked for it, it became obvious that his baby brother didn`t look well, but rather exhausted and ill. "Sher," he kept his voice low as not to startle his baby brother. "How long did you stay in your bed?"

"Since she left." The voice was muffled against Mycroft`s shirt and it was as well that Sherlock didn`t meet his gaze, otherwise he would have drawn the wrong conclusions from the murderous look on his big brother`s face. His baby brother had spent almost a day in bed, without eating or drinking anything, because he had feared that Mycroft was watching him and wouldn`t come to him if Sherlock didn`t obey her. That was beyond cruel and Mycroft didn`t understand how that woman had managed to get such good references in the first place if she treated children like that. Something to worry about at another time, for now he had to comfort of his baby brother.

"Sher, look at me!"

The pained expression in the blue eyes was almost too much for Mycroft, but he forced himself to stay strong for Sherlock`s sake. "I wasn`t watching you. I didn`t know what that incompetent woman did to you, if I had known I would have made sure that she didn`t get near you again."

Sherlock`s eyes lit up in wonder and it hurt Mycroft even more to see that. It should be normal for a child to be able to rely on his older brother and trust him, instead of fearing that he was going to abandon Sherlock if he made a mistake. Christ, was that how his baby brother felt whenever Mycroft went back to Eton? Did he believe that Mycroft was abandoning him? They would have to talk about that. Mycroft couldn`t accept that his baby brother didn`t know how much he was loved by him. "I would never make you stay in bed - only if you were sick - and never without something to eat and drink. And you are not a freak," Mycroft felt that this issue had to be addressed as well. "You are special, smarter than most children your age and everyone who doesn`t understand that is too stupid to understand you. They are freaks, because they don`t understand how precious you are, Sher."

A teary smile lit up Sherlock`s face as he looked up at him and Mycroft wondered how often someone told his baby brother how much he was loved. Not often, he concluded with a thought to his parents, which didn`t bother with such declarations if they weren`t surrounded by business partners or friends. Mycroft wasn`t prone to showing his emotions openly either - he had learned early enough that they could be used against him - but he would be damned if he didn`t do everything in his power to make his baby brother feel better.

"I love you, Sher," he whispered against the messy curls and pressed a chaste kiss to Sherlock`s forehead. "I`ll always be there for you if you need me. No matter what happens and no matter where you are, I`ll always come to help you." Thin arms were slung around Mycroft`s neck as Sherlock snuggled against him and dry lips touched Mycroft`s cheek briefly.

"I love you, too, Myc."

Mycroft took a shaky breath at that declaration and tightened his arms around his baby brother. He would talk with their parents about finding a more suitable nanny and making sure that a phone was installed in Sherlock`s room, so that he would be able to call Mycroft at Eton whenever he felt alone or misunderstood. Mycroft already feared that his parents would agree more easily to the latter than that they would invest too much of their time to find another nanny for Sherlock. They would be glad if Sherlock bothered him instead of them, but...

His baby brother was never a bother and if Mycroft was able to help him he would do it, no matter what. And he would start with it right away. "Let`s find us something to eat and drink and then I`ll show you what experiments we did in chemistry at school."

"Oh yes, please!" Blue eyes were alight with interest and Mycroft allowed himself to press another kiss to Sherlock`s cheek, before rising from the bed as his baby brother slung his legs around his middle to allow Mycroft to carry him.

"I`ll always be there for you," Mycroft whispered again as they went down the stairs to the kitchen. It was more than a promise to Sherlock, it was a vow to himself and Mycroft would never break it. Not now - with his baby brother in his arms - and not in ten, twenty or thirty years.

Not ever!