Disclaimer: Last time I checked, I wasn't Arthur Conan Doyle, Mark Gaitiss, or Stephen Moffat. In simple terms? ME DOES NOT OWN :D
Prologue part one- A Far Distant Memory
The fourteen year old peered around the room intently. He was on the hunt. He looked around, searching for something...anything that was out of place in the tiny space...
He looked to the toy box and frowned. Untouched. Every truck and crayon put neatly away. He looked to the closet. It too looked untouched but maybe... He narrowed his eyes.
He started toward it slowly, then stopped. He cocked his head to the side and listened. A slow smile spread across his lips. There... a small rustle from under the bed.
He changed his course and dropped in front of the bed. He reached his fingers underneath and when they ran into something soft, began to wiggle them back and forth.
A high pitch squeal met his ears and fully grinning he gently pulled a small boy from under the bed.
Mycroft Holmes picked up the giggling child and held him. The young Sherlock snuggled into his embrace and beamed up at him. "You found me Big Brother." he said.
Mycroft hugged his brother closer to him and laughed. "Of course I did Sherlock," he said. "I will always find you. No matter what."
Sherlock hugged his brother and gave a happy sigh. "You promise Mycroft?" he asked. The older boy smiled gently at him.
"Yes, Sherlock. I promise. Even if you don't want me to. I'll find you. That's what Brothers are for..."
"...ir..?" came the voice from beside him. Mycroft Holmes blinked out of his reverie and looked to his assistant. She was a tall, pretty woman with long dark brunette hair and deep brown eyes. She had glanced up from her phone- the one item that usually seemed to hold all of her attention- to stare in concern at her boss. Mycroft gave her a thin smile.
"And what shall I call you today my dear?" He asked. She raised an eyebrow at the blatant disregard for her question. Nonetheless she answered him.
"Well, I think I've become quite fond of 'Anthea' Sir," she said. "Are you ready to go Sir?" Mycroft sighed and looked to the sky.
It was a calm night. The sky was clear and the stars were shining brightly. A cool night breeze ruffled the two companions as they stood outside the unmarked car in front of his offices. The building stood dark and foreboding in the night; all other
Staring up at the tiny pinpricks, he allowed a fond smile to grace his lips. 'Anthea' grew more concern for her employer. "Sir?" she asked.
He replied without looking at her. "Sherlock did always enjoy watching the stars at night." A dry chuckle followed. "He loves the stars and yet, the structure of the solar system completely evades him."
Anthea opened her mouth in a silent "Oh". So that was what was wrong. She placed a manicured hand on her employers shoulder. "Are you having second thoughts sir?" she asked.
Mycroft looked at her then. And in his eyes, Anthea could see the cold determination he was known for smoldering. He had made up his mind and nothing was going to change it.
With his mouth set in a grim line, he opened the car door and slid in. Anthea followed solemnly.
Prologue/End
A/N: Hooray for new stories :D And for those of you who came here thinking this was TBC or DI...er...oops?