First day of public school, after being homeschooled from the fourth grade, Sherlock and Mycroft would meet other children for the first time. For years, the children of the mathematician and scientist only knew each other, and quite recently had begun to fight more, becoming bored of one another. In one last loud argument over lazy vs. idiot when it came to name calling, the parents of the Holmes brothers had had enough.
The bus is where their eyes were opened for the first time.
"MOVE!"
"NO!"
"Look out! Airplane coming through!" A foam airplane flew through the air, hitting a freshman on the head.
"Hey watch it!"
"Shut up!"
"Is that a buger?" All around the nine and sixteen year old were screaming, annoying, other children. They shared a look crossed between curiosity and "what have we gotten ourselves into?". Mycroft took a deep breath, and grabbing his little brother by the hand, led him to the nearest open seat to fit them both. There they sat, quietly as the crowd continued to cause nothing but noise of all types. Did other kids really act this way? Sherlock thought to himself. The boy jumped, bumping into his brother as a kid shot to the front of the bus, not caring who she ran into, only to be scolded by the driver. Both of them were quickly coming to the conclusion that everyone on the bus was at least somewhat of an idiot.
"What's that?" One of them asked him. Sherlock looked up from his lap, then back down as to not make contact. "Hullo, can you hear?" Sherlock made momentary eye contact, then went back to his lap as he shook his head up and down quickly and dismissively. Just from the corner of his eye he could see the other kid, taking her in, he saw she had frizzy black hair and dark skin as well as chocolate eyes that sparkled. She was kind of pretty. Sherlock, using some things Mycroft taught him, deduced she had a few siblings and a dog, she might be nice. "What's your name?" At last, he caved in, this girl really was insistent. He rolled his eyes.
"What's what?" He asked, sounding obviously annoyed.
"your name?"
"No the first question"
"That thing" She pointed to the handle sticking out of Sherlock's backpack. He scrunched his face a little, then pulled it out.
"It's my magnifying glass, I use it to see stuff closer up"
"Why would you want to do that?"
"So I can study it, a good pirate needs to know about his surroundings" She tilted her head like a puppy.
"A pirate?"
"Yeah! I'm gonna sail all of the oceans!" Mycroft stole a glance, then looked away again, knowing these children would think him odd.
"You know that's not a real career"
"Who told you that?" A feeling like hurt rose in his chest.
"My mother says you should always pick something realistic for your future, pirates are only from stories. And stories are for little kids" He looked away again, deciding he would ignore her rest of the way. "You're kind of rude" He was rude? Sherlock did not reply until they arrived at the school.
The pack of kids rushed out of the bus, shoving one another, fighting to get into the exit line, a completely chaotic situation. When the brothers reached the front of the school, Mycroft handed Sherlock a small pamphlet about how to navigate the building as well as which room to go to. He nodded and set off, feeling independent. Sherlock walked with a hop in his step and a smile growing on his face, he would get to learn and see new things, and that was quite exciting. He made it halfway down the hall when that girl caught up to him again.
"Hey, you never told me your name! It looks like we're going in the same class year! I can't wait! The name's Sally by the way" Sherlock kept walking, trying to pick up his pace, but she was taller and had longer legs, making it easy for her to keep, he hoped someday he would be the one with the long legs so she didn't do this again. "So, what is it?"
"Willia-Sherlock. My name is Sherlock"
"Williasherlock? What a weird name, do you really go by that?"
"It's Sherlock" They turned into the classroom.
"It's still a weird name" At the front, a teacher stood with a piece of chalk in hand, writing across the board. He looked odd, with somewhat spiky hair flipped to the side, large glasses, and a very pointy nose and chin as well as a boring brown suit. It seemed he knew most of the children somehow, except him, for when he saw Sherlock, he smiled and came over, Sally finally walking away.
"You must be William Holmes?" Sherlock looked up at the smiling man, and out of all seriousness, spoke.
"My name is Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes, sir"
"Ah, you're one of those, okay Sherlock, take a seat over there" He pointed to a seat, and right next to it, sat Sally. A heavy feeling thumped in his chest, this was going to be a long day, no, year… He gingerly sat down next to the girl who was currently chatting away to another boy who sat in their square of desks which were connected. The boy took his backpack off and took out a little binder filled with his supplies, on the front was a photo of him and his dog dressed as pirates. Sally stopped talking and glanced at the picture.
"You still play dress up? That's for little girls" Sherlock tried ignoring her. "You know you're kind of weird Sherlock" Sherlock took another look at her, then began thinking of more things Mycroft had taught him, then molded those into insults.
"At least I don't make fun of others to feel superior in order to mask being the youngest child in a family with four kids all of which are boys, meaning you don't get enough at home, so this is just so you can be center of all the attention" She and the boy across from them stared at him, wide eyed.
"How did you know that?" Sherlock was just about to explain when an idea came into his head.
"I'm a psychic" She glared at him.
"You're a freak. That's what I'll call you, Freak" Again, that hurt feeling rippled through him. Sherlock continued rummaging through his stuff; he did not speak the rest of the class time.
Around midday, recess came and they were free to run around for a half hour, however, Sherlock ended up sitting against the brick wall of the side of the school, watching others play. After Sally had called him a freak, and he'd seen how other children interacted and played while he wanted to read, he began to wonder if he really was a freak. Sherlock was taken out of his thoughts when a group of sixth graders raced by, cornering a shorter kid who appeared to be quite young, but was most likely just younger-looking.
"Hey smurf!" They were calling him that because of his height and blue hoodie most likely, not a very intelligent insult, but it seemed to offend on the blonde boy. Sherlock cringed as they pinned him against the wall. "This homework" The tallest one, a year older than the short kid probably, took a paper out of his coat. "Is due tomorrow, and you will have it back to me with all the answers correct, got it?" He nodded, tears forming in his eyes. They let him go and walked away, laughing and reminiscing about what just occurred. The boy slid down the wall, taking deep breathes and trying to avoid more tears. Sherlock watched, but did not move. The boy then rolled up his sleeve to inspect a cut and a bruise forming around it.
Sherlock's eyes widened, how could someone be so cruel? At last, he got up, tugging his light brown jacket around him and zipping it up.
"Hullo, are you alright?" The kid quickly looked away, pulling his sleeve down, he sniffed. Sherlock knew he'd ignored that girl earlier for talking to him, he did not want to be that annoying, but he decided this was different. "Hey, are-"
"Go away! I won't do your homework as well! And if you're going to hurt me just- just do it now!" Sherlock looked taken aback, this was new, then again, all of this was. He didn't know much about people. Sherlock sat down next to him, an awkward silence for a moment before he began again.
"I won't hurt you, I saw what they did. Someone called me a freak today. These people aren't very nice around here" He fidgeted, sitting a bit more comfortably. "do they always do this?" Finally, the boy moved to face him, he had a start of a black eye it seemed as well as red, blood shot eyes from held back tears.
"Ye-yeah… Ever since fourth grade" Sherlock nodded.
"I'm in fourth grade. What's your name?" The boy sat up, getting out of his curled up-position.
"I'm John" Sherlock held out his hand.
"I'm Sherlock" Hesitantly, John took it and together they stood up. "You're not really going to do that homework are you?"
"Well of course I am, or else they'll just hurt me again" Sherlock furrowed his brow.
"No they won't, you know what? We can go stand up to them right now! Come on"
"No!"
"Well why not?"
"Because you'r new here and I don't to make you a target for them, you seem really nice"
"How do you now I'm new here?"
"Well I've never seen you before"
"Makes sense, now come on!" John caught his wrist.
"No! They're older than you and stronger. And, well I won't have to worry about them much longer because-"
"Of course you shouldn't have to! Someone has to stand up to them" Recess was nearly over, if he timed it right, Sherlock thought, he could get the leader of the three just before the break ended and not get in trouble. They found the trio over by the climbing structure. John trailed behind Sherlock, unsure if this was a good idea. Sherlock gave him a reassuring look before stepping up to them.
"Hey!" They turned to him.
"Hey, it's the smurf and he's got a friend now. Making friends with the little kids now eh smurf?" Sherlock felt his face get hot,these guys were worse than that irritationing girl.
"You hurt him and that wasn't very nice"
"Oh yeah?" The leader stood up and shoved Sherlock to the ground, he grunted, then attempted to stand just to be knocked down again, John was standing back and watching in horror. "Watcha gonna do 'bout it?" Sherlock's eyebrows narrowed as he took a swing, just missing the boy's face. "Oh! Little kid has an attitude!" He leaned in close to Sherlock's ear. "Isn't that adorable" Then, out of nowhere, a fist hit him once, then twice, then he was off of Sherlock. The other two boys were laughing a little, walking away to swing on the set a few feet away. When the boy stood, he dusted off his clothes to see John with the older boy beneath him as he punched him again. Sherlock took John off of him. "Your crazy! I-I'm telling the recess lady!" Sherlock laughed a little, John fell to the ground, adrenaline pumping through him madly.
"Are you okay?" He smiled, a wild look in his eye.
"Yeah, yes I'm okay!" They laughed again.
"Thanks, by the way"
"No, thank you! I stood up to them!" Sherlock nodded , both just sitting there now.
"You didn't have to"
"Well, That's what friends do isn't it? Stand up for one another?" Sherlock paused, then tilted his head in question.
"What?"
"We're friends now right? By the way, I have to tell you something-"
"Want to play on the swings?" Sherlock interrupted. Not able to finish his sentence, John shrugged and followed his new friend to the swing area, a different one from where that bully's friends were currently on.
"Okay. Race you there!" Sherlock nand John raced to the set with fits of giggles between breaths, smiling widely, he'd just made his first friend.
When school was over, Mycroft met him outside.
"How was the first day?"
"It was-!" Just then, the blonde boy ran up to him. "John!"
"Hey Sherlock! Thanks for being my friend by the way"
"No problem! Want to play tomorrow?" Just then, something in John's expression made his heart sink. John scratched behind his head.
"Well ah… I tried telling you… we're moving, tomorrow… It was nice meeting you though. Hey, maybe I'll see you again!" Sherlock, for the millionth time that day, could only nod.
"Yeah, luck then at your new school"
"Thanks, at least no one will mess with me now. And if they do I know what to do" they waved goodbye. This would be a long year. No, years of school until college. Although, there was an interesting feeling he had in the pit of his stomach that said this was not the last time they would be seeing one another.
++++Many Years Later++++
Sherlock walked into Bart's that morning with an idea of what happened and how this next case would be solved. In fact, he'd spent a good amount of time whipping a corpse with a riding crop to make sure he was correct. It was actually a normal, somewhat lonely day for him, and he was okay with that. Soon he'd be moved in with at the flats with possibly a roommate and his life might just get more interesting…maybe.
Sighing, he began his experiment in the lab, and halfway through the door swung open. He rolled his eyes and tried to ignore it.
"It's a bit different from my day" He heard an unfamiliar voice say. Stamford's brought someone in to meet me I suppose. He took a quick glance to see who it was, just some random person. The man had a limp and walked with confidence, he wondered if they'd met before.
"You have no idea" Stamford replied. Sherlock sat down with his microscope again.
"Mike, can I borrow your phone? There's no signal on mine"
"What's wrong with the landline"
"I prefer to text" Mike shrugged apologetically.
"Sorry, it's in my coat"
"Oh, here, use mine" The stranger said after a moment. Sherlock stared at him for a second, something was familiar about him though, and he never forgets anything important.
"Oh, thank you" Now what is it? Something continued to tug the back of his mind. Stamford then pointed to the shorter man as Sherlock walked over to him.
"It's an old friend of mine, John Watson" The memory flashed through his head just then. John! From that day in fourth grade! He studied the man within a few seconds, John most likely did not remember him after all he deduced he'd been through, so he was going to make an impression that would last this time, hopefully it would work.
"Afghanistan or Iraq?" After Sherlock had stated many things about John, and certainly made his impression, it went unknown to the detective that, in fact, after Sherlock said his name, John did remember him. But John would not admit it, just in case Sherlock did not remember him. He hoped he was `alike he'd been when they first met as children. John found Sherlock to be a bit odd at first, but he knew the man had a good heart and stubbornly stuck with him through their first case together no matter what anyone said, even when he ended up shooting a man to save him. Sherlock seemed almost shocked when they joined again on the street before the crime scene and investigators. John knew that Sherlock had an idea that it was he who shot the cabbie and was happy when he told no one. Both wanted to say it out loud, but they didn't have to, as they indeed knew what the other was thinking. That's what friends do isn't it? Stand up for one another?