"Clear-cut attachment develops when the infant's six months to two years old. The infant's behaviour towards the 'caregiver' becomes organized on a goal directed to achieve the conditions that make it feel safe/secure. By the end of the first year the infant has the potential to display a range of attachment behaviours designed to maintain proximity. These manifest as; protesting the caregiver's departure, greeting the caregiver's return, 'clinging'/maintaining proximity when frightened and following when able.
With the development of locomotion the infant begins to use the caregiver(s) as a 'safebase' from which to explore. Infant exploration is greater when the caregiver is present because the infant's attachment system is relaxed and it's free to explore. If the caregiver is inaccessible or unresponsive attachment behaviour becomes stronger. Anxiety, fear, illness and fatigue will cause a child to increase its attachment behaviour. After the second year, as the child begins to see the carer as an independent person, a more complex and goal orientated relationship is formed. Children begin to notice others' goals and feelings and so plan their actions accordingly. For example; whereas babies cry because of pain, two-year-olds cry to summon their caregiver and, if that doesn't work, cry louder, shout or follow."
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Sherlock Holmes never cried; it was a stupid idea. He couldn't understand why people participated in the activity; it was pointless, dull and made your body do awful things like make your face go blotchy and your nose run.
He'd learnt quickly not to cry. He never got anywhere crying.
People in the village often commented that it was odd that a child of seven never cried, not even when he was pushed over or called names. People always gave him looks and whispered behind their hands. Because he was a child people thought he couldn't see or hear them. Idiots.
The party was boring. They were always boring, no matter what event this tiny, little, insignificant village had decided to celebrate that time. This time it was something to do with a rabbit and some god's son dying. He didn't see why this concerned him so he'd found himself a quiet bench in the garden tucked into the trees and away from all the noise and senseless chatter his mother had deemed a necessary interaction when living in this insignificant place in the middle of nowhere.
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John had stayed by his mother for a while before realising that was ridiculous for a ten year old, no matter how short he was, so he wandered off to have a look at the Holmes estate. His mum had told him to be nice to the Holmes kid if he saw him; apparently he could be cruel and was a bit odd. His mum had settled in nicely to the village already participating in the gossip.
After a while of looking at the rooms John slipped out an open door and was hit by the unusual heat of the summer. He looked around for a couple of minutes before losing patience with the sun and slipping into a group of trees that provided enough shade for it to be cool and nice.
There was a slight but lanky boy lying on the bench with his eyes closed so John approached quietly not wanting to wake him.
Without opening his eyes the boy said softly "Harry or John?"
John blinked in surprise, how did this boy know him and Harry's name? "What?" He replied uncertainly.
The boys face barely changed but his lips twitched upwards a little "You're wondering how I know? You're gait is different to other peoples here, faster, you're used to keeping up with crowds, so from a city. Not from round here. Anyone who's spent any time here would have slowed their pace to match the locals so you must be new. Coupled by the fact I heard a new family have moved into the cottage down the road I assumed you must be Harry or are you the other brother John?" He opened his eyes and looked at him now smiling, "How did I do?"
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The boy, Harry or John, whichever, took a step forward looking intrigued but not scared. That was new.
"Um...yes...how did you do that?"
"I observed and put things together."
He smiled, "That was amazing!" He moved closer and stuck out his hand, "I'm John by the way."
Sherlock looked at John, he seemed nice; older than him but would be in the same year as him at school because of Sherlock's tendency to know more than his teachers. Sandy blonde hair and wide blue eyes with an open face; appealing. Short for his age as well Sherlock saw with a smirk seeing that in fact he would be taller than him standing up.
He took John's hand and shook it smiling.
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"Age, cognitive growth and continual social experience advance the development and complexity of the internal working model. Attachment related behaviours lose some characteristics typical of the infant-toddler period and take on age related tendencies. Three to four year olds use negotiation and bargaining. For example four-year-olds are not distressed by separation if they and their caregiver have already negotiated a shared plan for the separation and reunion. Ideally, these social skills become incorporated into the internal working model to be used with other children and later with adult peers."
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Sherlock had an enjoyable afternoon in the end. He and John sat on the bench and chatted about random things; the village, the school they both would be going to (returning for Sherlock) at the end of the holiday and how boring the party was.
And of course Sherlock entertained John by giving him his deductions about any guest who came into or passed the garden.
"Wait!" John laughs loud and clear, "Wait. Wait. How on earth do you know she misses her dead husband?!"
Sherlock smiles and rolls his eyes tipping his head back to look at the boy sitting next to his head on the ground instead of looking at the sky. "It's obvious John! Look at her!"
John nudges the top of his head with his shoulder before going back to leaning comfortably against the wooden bench running his fingers through the soft grass under him "I am looking! I couldn't even see that she'd lost her husband..."
He smiles indulgently then flips so he can see John's face. "The husband died, we all went to his funeral; it was boring." John rolls his eyes at this but doesn't interrupt wanting to understand. "But also there is an impression where her wedding ring was so it was recent, she hasn't had enough time for it to tan over and she wore it for at least two years because of the large colour difference. She's stopped wearing it because it's too painful but hasn't let go as you can see by the rather obvious sign that she's wearing it on a chain round her neck. You can tell it's too painful because it's partially tucked into her shirt so she doesn't have to see it. She's missing him, you can tell by the small white hairs that she recently got a cat to keep her company-you can tell it's not a dog because there are too many-so she's missing him and wants company. As well as grief being the social norm it was easy."
John grins and his eyes light up "that's brilliant Sherlock!"
"Did you know you do that out loud?"
"Oh...sorry." John's smile slips a little and Sherlock immediately frowns; he didn't mean to make John sad.
"No I didn't mean...it's not bad...it's just not what people normally say." He swallows nervously wondering if John will leave now like all the other children; run away, point and laugh at him.
"What do other people say?"
"Freak. Odd. Weird. Devil. Then they run away or laugh." Part of Sherlock wondered why on earth he was telling John this, giving him another thing to laugh at, another part of him just wanted to tell someone and let them in. He wanted John to know and that he knew was ridiculous; he'd only met him a couple of hours ago. He didn't even like people. Was John people? He didn't know. And that was scarier than anyone leaving. He stared at the bench below him suddenly unsure.
"Oh...Sherlock..." John sounded...upset? He looked up frowning; he's so bad with emotions. "I won't do that! You're cool and it's really awesome what you can do..." And then he smiled and Sherlock couldn't help but smile back.
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John was enjoying his afternoon until Harry found them. He had been sitting in the long grass and leaning against the top of the bench where Sherlock's head whilst the younger kid had been amazing John with his deductions. Harry came out into the garden calling for John and running down the garden (more like a large field) to the bottom to check, hitching her dress up around her knees so it wouldn't rip and climbing up the fence to shout for him.
Sherlock turned over and hissed at him, "I got it wrong!"
"What?"
"She's a she!"
John frowned; what the hell was Sherlock thin-oohhhh... "It doesn't matter! You're still brilliant..."
Sherlock waved a hand "I know I am! But there's always something I miss; get slightly wrong. This time she's a girl!"
John rolled his eyes and pats the top of Sherlock's head "calm down! It's all right; she's a right tomboy."
Sherlock glared "Only you could justify that."
John smiles and then his face falls "This has been fun Sherlock..."
Sherlock opens his mouth to reply but before he can Harry has pounced on John. "Oh my god John. Mummy's worried sick! How could you wander off? It's time to go home and..." She trails off as she catches Sherlock glaring at her. If looks could kill, John decided, Harry would be dead. Twice.
Hurriedly he steps in "Um Sherlock, this is my sister; Harry. Harry this is Sherlock; my friend." Sherlock's eyes widen almost imperceptibly with the word friend and then he smiles a little.
"Hello..." It's a quiet response from Sherlock who holds out a hand for Harry to shake.
"I heard he's a freak." Harry glared at Sherlock and he withdrew his hand quickly as if burnt.
"Harry!"
"What?! It's true! Everyone says so!" John glares at her.
"Doesn't make it true. Go and tell Mum I'll be there in a minute..." Once she'd gone he turned to Sherlock. "I'm so sorry! She probably wants to be friends; she's just not good at showing it..."
Sherlock nods absently, "Yes, I'm sure..."
John smiles sadly "I'm very sorry...I've got to go anyway...see you soon maybe?"
"Yes. Yes; I'd like that."
John grinned pushing himself up. "See you soon then Sherlock!" He called over his shoulder as he ran back to the house and as he looked back he saw the boy half smile and wave back.
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Hey? Um, yeah so... Hey. This is the first chapter and I'm already needing prompts from M. That's us by the way, M and C, this is our first fic to be uploaded but we promise there's more on the way. Including more chapters of this one, which will be M rated later on, just so everyone knows right now.
Right so we hope you enjoy this series...
From M and C.