Another little story about their childhood. Don't mind the titles if you don't care for Frozen.
Sherlock ran his small fingers over the soft brown fur that covered the little auburn thing his parents had given him when he turned five years old yesterday.
It was a toy.
A teddy bear to be specific.
He had seen the other little children hugging them close to their chests, playing with them, going on "adventures", having tea parties.
He tilted his head as he studied the strange object.
It doesn't look like a bear. He thought. Its eyes are much too big and shiny, and bears do not stand upright on their two feet all the time. Neither do they wear bow ties or suspender overalls.
He sat it down next to him. It looks absolutely ridiculous. What exactly am I supposed to do with it?
"Sherlock, just be grateful they even bothered to give you something this year." Mycroft Holmes said from the coffee table as he flipped through the morning newspaper.
Sherlock scowled. "What exactly am I supposed to be grateful for? It is a useless lump of cotton and plastic."
"Be grateful that they tried." His older brother didn't even look up, multitasking coming easily. "After all, you always made such a fuss when they gave you presents."
"They never gave me what I wanted and it was just a couple of times."
"Enough for them to stop."
With a huff, the small boy folded his arms across his chest, some he seemed to be doing more and more often. "They said they wanted to give me something to keep me company. I do not need any company. If anything I have you who can provide that."
Mycroft looked up at this statement. It was actually his idea for his parents to get Sherlock a teddy bear, convincing them as well that it would show the little boy that his parents really did care. Being so very different from a lot of children can result in quite a lonely time as Mycroft knew very well. He had seen the way that his little brother would study the other children around them, realizing very quickly that they were not all like him. It had taken a lot of time and pain for a young Mycroft to learn that hardly anyone was like him and that people always judged harshly those that were different. People didn't understand, and sometimes they didn't want to. It wasn't that anything was wrong with them, it was just that they were different.
"Don't think of it as company then." Mycroft tried to focus on his paper again. "Think of it more as an apology."
"An apology for what?"
"Not being able to get you that dictionary you wanted."
"It wasn't that expensive! And it would have made for a very good paper weight."
"What do you need a paper weight for?"
"For all my cases."
"Your what?"
"My cases. I'm going to be a detective one day."
"Very practical of you, Sherlock."
"There's no need to be snarky, Mycroft. I will become a detective. Just watch me."
"Alright, and I'll become one of the Queen's own personal Secret Service. No! I shall become the British Government itself, maybe with my own freelance Secret Service!"
"Go ahead and laugh all you want now, but one day you would be the one coming to me for help!"
"Don't be ridiculous, Sherlock. I would never come to you for aid."
"Someday you might."
"I am seven years your superior, I highly doubt it."
"I'm better at deduction than you are."
"As I said before, highly doubtful."
With that the two settled into silence. Mycroft pretending to read his newspaper but quietly musing over actually becoming part of the British Government, Sherlock fuming noiselessly over his irritatingly smug older brother.
"I will be smarter than you someday, Mycroft." He muttered to himself. "I will be the best detective the world has ever seen. Then you can eat your words. British Secret Service, indeed." He took the bear in his hands and pulled its ears.
"If you wouldn't do that so furiously, I would suggest you name it instead."
Sherlock moved to pinch the bear's nose, imagining that it was actually Mycroft. "Why should I do that, brother mine?"
"Then you would get attached to it and not hurt it so."
"Well for the first time in forever, you seem to care about something other than yourself."
Mycroft rolled his eyes. His little brother was being dramatic again.
"Well for the thousandth time in forever, you are being a spoilt drama queen."
"That is very sexist. I'm sure a lot of girls out there would be mad at you."
"What I said has nothing to do with being a girl."
"Well, John seems to think so."
"John?"
Sherlock held up his toy and moved its paw in a condescending little wave.
"You named it John?"
"It can't name itself."
"Yes, but why John?"
"Why can't I name it John?"
"No one said you couldn't name your toy what you want, Sherlock."
"Then?"
"Its just such a common name."
Sherlock patted the bear on the head. "Well I like it."
How very childish.
Mycroft gave a little sigh but was content with the simple love/hate relationship they shared.
How very childish, indeed.
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock
The title doesn't just refer to their conversation about being selfish, it was more for the first time they really started thinking about the future and what it could hold for them. At least that was what i initially had intended. As to what really came out, well, just was petty childish fun.
Thank you for reading.