Martin smoothed down the hair of his littlest brother as the younger boy cried into his shoulder.
If he was honest, he would quite bluntly say that this was a rare thing, and one he really did wish didn't happen as often as it did.
Sherlock Holmes, Martin had long since decided, was not supposed to cry like this. Especially not while still dressed up in the pirate outfit Martin'd bought for him on his sixth birthday.
"There there," he said awkwardly. "It's going to be all right..." Because that's what people said.
"N-no, it's not," came the sniffled out response. "M-Mycroft said-"
"Well, I'm just going to have to have words with Mycroft then, aren't I?"
Although if he were honest with himself he wasn't looking forward to the prospect. For someone five years his junior, Mycroft could tie him up in knots far too easily. But after this, he'd have to.
"You can be whoever you want to be. Did I ever tell you what I wanted to be when I was just a bit younger than you are now...?"
"No..." Sherlock said, sniffing again.
His curiosity had perked him up, however, and Martin took that as a good sign. He leaned in closer and said, in a whisper, "Don't tell anyone else, but- I wanted to be an aeroplane."
Sherlock hiccoughed a laugh, and Martin smiled in embarrassed relief as the sobs turned into giggles.
"Really? But- but that's-!"
"Not actually possible?"
"Yeah!"
"Well, I didn't really think about it like that back then. It wasn't really that important. But you know what?"
Sherlock shook his head with a frown. He didn't often not know things, and was working on not knowing things even less.
"I didn't have a Mycroft, but someone still told me I wasn't able to be one. I wasn't allowed."
"That's mean! And- but you're-"
Martin wasn't about to mention that it had been their father who'd said that very thing. It wouldn't exactly help matters.
"Training to be a pilot."
Sherlock snickered. Martin started to laugh.
"Does that mean I can still grow up to be a pirate?"
Martin ruffled Sherlock's hair, and Sherlock shoved at him playfully as he tried to make the black curls go back into place.
"The way I see it," Martin said pointedly, "You can be if you want to be. I don't know how, but... If that's what you want to do, then don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Even Mycroft."
Sherlock smiled lazily, and, after deciding that his hair was just going to get ruffled again somehow anyway, leaned back into his brother's chest with a drowsy sigh. Martin draped an arm around him, proud of the fact that his little brother trusted him so much as to be himself around Martin, and not the quasi-grown up person he tried to be to the rest of the world.
…
AN: Done as a fill for a prompt on the kinkmeme. They suggested a Martin that'd be older than Sherlock, based on the ages given by ACD canon. I gave them a Martin that is the eldest of the three Holmes brothers.
Their mother's maiden name is Crieff.
