First and foremost:
DISCLAIMER: I do not own or have any rights to the Sherlock charecters, BBC or otherwise.
Any similarities to any characters living or dead or fictional are purely coincidental. (What do we say about coincidences Sherlock? That the universe is rarely so lazy)
Enjoy!
He was running through the city, all the time using his mind palace to take the fastest route away from the main streets. He turned down an alleyway and crouched behind the skip halfway down. The blue flashing lights of the police car sped past the alleyway entrance. He smirked and sauntered off down the graffiti marked lane pulling his black hoodie over his mess of curls.
The alleyway was such a metaphor for his rebellious attitude with its litter strewn tarmac and psychedelic paint job. It resembled a life that felt too much like home now for him to give it up. He found comfort in the danger of it. Such a contradiction but that was Sherlock in a nutshell.
A memory drifted through his head, as he shuffled through the shadows. One that represented the early days of this dangerous time in his youth. He remembered it as if it was yesterday, as an 11 year old with a deductive mind a hypersensitive nature.
He could see the man in his mind. A recently married lawyer with the haunt of a wife going through a stressful illness. He had the tell-tale signs of a weak distracted man but with subtle wealth. Perfect.
Sherlock sauntered round the shop casually and innocently, nobody taking him the slightest bit of notice. Mycroft had already left the shop and was heading home, fed up of waiting for his baby brother. The timing was perfect. He walked along beside the man and reached across to the magazines in front of him.
"Oh sorry I didn't see you there" the lawyer said apologetically.
"Don't worry sir, I'm only looking" he turned and walked away, the shining Omega watch in his hand. He was impressed with his own skill as he pocketed his prize. He even thought he was home dry as he got to the end of the aisle.
"OI! STOP THAT KID"
"Shit!"
A police officer had just come round the corner of the aisle as Sherlock had swiped the watch. Sherlock ran out the shop as fast as his legs would carry him, all the way down the road and round the corner. He could see Mycroft down the road as he sprinted towards him.
"We need to get out of here" he panted as he reached his brother, a manic excitement in his eyes.
"For Christ's sake Sherlock. What the hell is your problem?!" Mycroft said with an angry look.
"Look we have to go now, or that Sargent will be after you too. Are you coming or not Mycroft?"
"Of course not you little criminal" Mycroft grabbed the hood of his jacket and caused Sherlock to trip backwards and tumble to the ground. The shock leaving him lying on his back for a few seconds before he registered what had happened. The older Holmes snatched the watch from his brother and pulled him up by his arm with a fierce grip.
"Officer I'm so sorry about my brother. Here's the watch you're obviously after." The policeman had just appeared, slightly out of breath from the unexpected sprint.
"Yes...right. I'm sorry son but I'm going to have to take him with me" the officer said with a surprise at the difference between the boys. Mycroft turned to Sherlock and pushed him down to sit on a step outside a shop.
"Stay there. Don't even think about going anywhere brother dear." Mycroft hissed. Sherlock didn't dare move, the threat was clear enough. Mycroft walked a few feet away and spoke to the officer in a hushed voice so his younger brother couldn't hear
"Officer please, my brother is a troubled boy. He's suffering severely from personality disorders that we're in the process of diagnosing. It makes him very disturbed and he doesn't think logically. No harm has been done, the property has been returned. Let me deal with my brother with the best means for his situation."
Mycroft always knew how to handle people and even at the age of 18 it was clear that he was capable at handling considerable power.
"I suppose I can let this slide on this occasion" a looked of pity flashes across the Sargent's face as he looked towards the boy sat cross legged on the step. Sherlock glared back. He did not appreciate sympathy especially by people he didn't know.
"However if he is caught again in any situation, I will be less lenient." The officer replied.
"That's kind of you and extremely reasonable. I'm sorry I didn't catch your name" Mycroft smiled back.
"Sargent Lestrade. Pleasure to meet you"