John Darling
Kid fic!Au! Kid John wants adventure so who better to give it to him then Sherlock the boy who never grew up.
Disclaimer- My knowledge of history is shady at best and little to no research on the period was done. Set during WW2. Also I changed John's surname and a few other things. Also borrows certain elements from Peter Pan while still managing to be original.
Life in the countryside is worse than John expected it to be. It is peaceful and relaxing, safe from the bombs that threaten destruction and death on a near daily basis. To put it simply it is quiet and boring and dull. Unsurprisingly John finds himself missing the nose of the sirens and the blitzed up buildings that were ingrained in the city he had used to call home. At nearly nine years old and used to freely gallivanting about the place and fighting boys twice his size the countryside and its lack of anything and everything was somewhat hateful to John.
John decides he hates the countryside almost as much as he hates his father for leaving him. For if only father had stayed, he would have lived and John would still be in London listening to the sound of the bombs falling above his head from deep within the shelter of the underground. But father had insisted on doing his duty and now he was dead leaving John another orphan of the war.
In the blink of an eye he had been parcelled up like a package and sent away to some small forgotten village deep in the countryside surrounded by woods. The long arduous train journey had in itself been more exciting than his destination, an ageing thatched cottage belonging to the brother of John's long dead mother.
In some ways John was lucky to have family willing to take him in. His aunt and uncle are nice dull people who though lacking the word "fun" from their dictionary clearly understand the meaning of kindness and compassion. They don't know him well enough love him though they try their best to. It's a big adjustment for them, after years of comfortable silence to have a child in the house. John doesn't make it easy for them, for as much as he tries to behave he can't help being a small boy who is far too excitable to be proper. The local doctor prescribes him a daily dose of cod liver oil and resigns him to a diet of plain simple food in order to drive the fever out of him. Whatever that meant.
He escapes to the woods clad in his favourite stripy jumper and shorts one morning when his aunt's coddling becomes too much and soon finds himself lost in a maze of greenery. Stumbling over tree roots and through mud John explores the woods and the fauna. In his notebook he meticulously catalogues various plants and flowers that he has only before seen in books or at the market for lack of anything better to do.
Sinking deeper into the woods turning well away from the well-worn paths John thankfully manages to avoid discovery and therefore misses afternoon tea with the Gowthorpe twins in favour of catching and releasing bugs in an old glass jam jar and lunching on cheese sandwiches he had the foresight to have made himself.
John ignores the first signs of darkness as it approaches in favour of finishing a leaf rubbing. When he does at last decide to go home he finds himself wandering in circles stubbornly refusing to admit he is lost. His resolve eventually crumbles just after the last faint beams of sunlight have died and his bare short legs are tired, scratched and caked in mud and his injured shoulder aches.
Doubting a rescue John decides to examine the view from above in hope of finding the path again and from it, his way back into the village. His thin old school satchel thumps against his bad leg as he scrambles up a broad oak, his fingers clawing at the bark.
Once settled precariously on a branch John decides getting down the tree is more of impossibility in the dark then climbing up it was. Though his day had been the most exciting and exhausting since his arrival, sleep refuses to come to him so John watches the moon instead. It seems brighter here in the clean smokeless country air and John is momentarily torn between trying to get his flash light and notebook out to sketch the dazzling moon or remain seated on the branch. However the argument soon becomes moot as he witnesses something impossible.
A pirate ship the kind that used to sail across world plundering the Empire appears in the sky. The sort with the black skull embossed sails and Mermaid figurehead and the works, flies across the sky on a golden cloud. John just stares as the enormous majestic ship floats closer and closer towards him. For a moment he thinks the ship is just going to pass above him, ignoring him completely when a rope ladder drops down in front of him. He climbs up it in a daze.
Once on deck the first thing John sees is a man wearing a large flouncy feathered hat, leather trousers, white shirt and elegant frock coat. The man seems to exude authority and so John decides he must be the Captain of the vessel. He seems to want to talk to John about something but that's hardly surprising considering John is dreaming. People are always important in their dreams. John knows he is dreaming because he must be, it's the only logical conclusion after all. Unless he is hallucinating as a result of falling from the tree... But John tries not to dwell on that possibility.
The sense of hunger that fills his empty stomach and the ripple of growling his intestines make feel real enough though and suddenly John thinks this might just possibly be real. A small tinge of interest begins to bubble up inside him and he wonders if the Pirate Captain would let him join the crew of this ship if he asked. John knows the Captain must have a crew for a ship this large is simply far too big for just one person to handle, even if it is enchanted. "Life as a pirate" thinks John "would surely be better than the dull drudgery he is forced to endure daily".
Except something about the Captain smiles at John doesn't sit quiet right with him. He steps forward into the moon light so as to get a better look at the Pirate Captain. Tall and plump and smelling like soap and gunpowder the man doesn't look much like the pirates in the book his nanny Harriet used to read to him before she ran off with the maid. He seems mildly threatening though so John stays quiet waiting.
Ignoring John the Captain turns to talk to the shadows. "Are you sure about this? People aren't pets but they need looking after you know, you can't just return him if you get bored."
Something stirs in the darkness and a pale boy with messy ink black curls appears. John notes the boy is dressed in similarly smart garb though his coat is grey. The boy nods in answer to the Captain but his eyes stare fixedly at John. His gaze makes John's heart hammer in his chest and his face reddens at the sight of the beautiful boy in front of him.
"You said I could have whatever I like for my un-birthday and I like him. I like his jumper. He looks like a bee and I like bees." Says the boy who can be no more than ten but whose eyes seem much wiser.
"But you don't know anything about him Sherlock!" Snaps the older man.
The boy who John now knows is called Sherlock frowns. "Oh shut up brother! Don't make me regret agreeing to a truce!" He wines. "I know his name is John Hamish Darling, nine and a half years old, no close family. I know he has been injured twice in the last five months. The first time he was rescuing a dog from an unsound building and the second helping an elderly neighbour to safety. He wants to be a doctor when he grows up but he's in no hurry for that and he desires adventure more than anything. Wishes for it the way young maidens wish for marriage."
He moves closer as he talks until he is nearly but not quiet face to face with John. John smiles astounded at his brilliance. "Amazing" he chokes out. Sherlock smiles at this and asks the question John has been waiting for without knowing.
"John come to Never Never Land with me?"