Domestic Bliss
1.
"But what am I supposed to do with it?"
"It's a boy, Mycroft. His name is Sherlock. He's your brother."
"That's a stupid name."
"Mycroft! What did I say about that word? Now sit down there in that chair and hold your brother."
Mycroft sighed heavily and flopped into the chair, apprehensively watching the squirmy little bundle that was Sherlock Holmes.
2.
"Sherlock, no."
"Sherlock."
"Sherlock! Stop putting things in your mouth!"
"Sherlock, stop being such a pain!"
"Hey, give me that back!"
Eight month Sherlock merely giggled and waved his chubby little fists, reaching for something else to chomp down on. He was teething.
3.
"Here, we'll put this scarf here like that..."
"Mother, have you seen my gloves?"
"They were on the table last I checked, love. Can you see if Sherlock's are in there, too?"
"Just a minute."
"Yes, Mike's going to get your little gloves and then we'll all go to Mycroft's school for the pageant, okay? You're going to have to be on your best behaviour, okay, Sherlock?"
"I don't wanna."
"Now, now. Mikey will go to yours one day, too, 'lock. Some things you just have to do for your brother, love."
"Mother, I can't find Sherlock's gloves. They weren't with mine."
"Oh, dear. Mike, check the bathroom and I'll look under his bed."
By the time that Mycroft and his mother returned, Sherlock was standing in the hallway, stark-naked with his snowsuit, scarf, hat, long johns, socks, and boots discarded around him. He looked up at them as they came back, looking rather pleased. "Don't wanna," he repeated stubbornly.
"Sherlock Holmes!"
Mycroft pinched the bridge of his nose.
4.
"And if you don't do every little thing that our Mother tells you to do, the East Wind is going to come up when you're sleeping or when you're out walking to school or exploring... and you'll be swept away into nothingness, Sherlock."
Sherlock stared with bright blue eyes, round with fear, at his brother as he drank in every word.
Mycroft barely had time to register the pounding footsteps before weight flung itself into his bed and he struggled to deduce what it was in his groggy state.
"Sherlock?"
"Mike, the East Wind's coming!"
"What - ouch! Stop squirming. Get under here."
"It's windy and there's thunder and bright flashes and I shouldna fed Redbeard all of my peas and carrots but they're so icky and now the East Wind's coming to get me!"
"The... no. Sherlock, it's just a storm."
"The rain never makes so much noise!"
"'lock, it's a storm. It's supposed to make those noises. Stop shaking. Nothing's going to get you."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
5.
"What do you think?"
"About what, Sherlock?"
"I think Mum bought our Christmas presents."
"Hm."
"And I think she got you that one book."
"Oh? What makes you think that?"
"Her car smelled like a coffee with a hint of hazelnut. She gets a hazelnut cappuccino at the bookstore and there's no new books laying around, so I think she got you the one you wanted and's keeping it a secret."
"Yes, I'd agreed."
"So you know! Tell me; is mine a pirate's costume? Oh, or the microscope? Oh! Or is it the tarantula from the pet store!?"
"It's obviously not the tarantula. Mother hates bugs."
"Oh, that's right. I remember... Huh. Uhhh, maybe it's... Oh, think, stupid- um. Ugh, I don't know; I haven't seen any clues!"
"Are you really so daft? It's obviously in the hallway closet, top shelf. It's in the plastic shopping bag of birthday party decorations because you wouldn't think to look there."
Sherlock's eyes lit up and he jumped to his feet. "Come on! I'll need a boost."
"Sherlock, you can't go snooping."
"I'm not going to snoop; I'm going to look at the bag and figure out what's in it. Duh!"
"You're going to take all of the fun," Mycroft said sarcastically, "out of Christmas."
"Oh, Christmas. Christmas is boring. Mysteries are more fun! I hope it's something with pirates. Or a magnifying glass. Or maybe more spending money than you're going to get..."
+ 1.
"Let's play something else!"
"Why are we playing games?"
"There's an imminent terrorist threat in London. I'm just passing the time. Let's play Deductions."
"I'm busy."
"Oh, come on, it's been an age."
Mycroft glanced up, analysing his brother from his solitary place in front of the fireplace. "I always win," he warned.
"Which is why you can't resist," Sherlock retorted, staring down at him in a way that Mycroft knew well.
It really had been an age. A lifetime, to be sure.
I don't know why I wanted to write it, but I did, so I wrote it. xD The +1 is obviously an amalgamation of their conversation in The Empty Hearse - do I know it's not word for word - but I wanted to focus more on their childhood with limited descriptive images, more dialogue.
I do not own Sherlock. Thank you for reading!