Author's Note: This is my first attempt at Kid!Lock. I hope I do it justice. I picture Asa Butterfield from Hugo as Kid!Sherlock, and I picture the kid who played Young Kazran Sardick in Doctor Who as Kid!John. This story is from different characters' points of view. I'll let you figure out who they are at a funeral for. I'm not telling! ;) If convenient, review. If inconvenient, review anyway. Could be dangerous.

Blue TARDIS Everdeen

Halfway Out of the Dark

I don't see why everyone is getting so sentimental. I mean, it's just a dull funeral. Everybody knows that everybody dies. I see my mother, dressed in all black, embracing another woman. She is in all black as well, but one thing stands out about her. It's her hair. It's as red as the leaves on the trees in autumn. There's another woman standing next to her, her arm around the red-haired woman's waist; as if to support her. The woman has tears in her green eyes; threatening to spill out. Her hair is just as strange as the other's; her hair is a golden blonde, curled into tight ringlets. I hear my mother whispering words back and forth to the women; words of comfort, I think. I walk over to my mother; as soon as she sees me, she lets go of the red-haired woman and hugs me instead. She rubs the back of my head, saying:

"Oh it's a shame. It's a real shame."

I pull away and ask: "What's a shame, mother?"

She smiles through her tears and hugs me again. "Nothing Sherlock. I was merely talking to myself."

"There." My mum says, after straightening my bowtie. "Turn around, John dear. Let me see the whole picture." I turn around, my arms straight down on my sides. When I turn back around to face Mum, she beams and says: "You look just like your father. He would be so proud of you." She hugged me then; her voice shaking as she whispered, "I know I am." She kissed me on the forehead. "Now," she said, straightening. "Go and get your sister. We're going to leave soon." I nod my head and go up the stairs to the room that my sister Harry and I (unfortunately) share.

"Harry, Mum wants to know if you're ready yet!" I yell through the door.

"Hold on, John. I'm coming!" She yelled back. I rolled my eyes, leaning up against the door. After what seemed like AGES, she finally came out. I burst out laughing.

"Oh, you look like a fat old monkey!" I fell over, laughing harder.

"Hey! You look funny too!" She said, reddening. She bolted down the stairs. "Mum! John's teasing me again!"

I follow her down the stairs. I see Harry clinging to mum, glaring at me.

"John, did you tease your sister?" She said sternly.

I looked down, digging my toe of my brand-new dress shoes into the soft carpet. "Yes mum," I say softly.

"And what did you call her?"

I looked up into my mum's face; her eyes seeming to bore into mine.

"A fat monkey." I looked down again.

"John Hamish Watson. You will apologize to Harriet. Go on." I walked hesitantly over to Harry; her glares could melt ice. I mumbled

"Sorry."

My mother patted me on the back. "Good." She walked over to the closet to get her best coat. "We are leaving now, and when we get to the funeral, I expect BOTH of you to be on your best behaviour." She looked at both of us in turn. "Is that understood?"

"Yes mum," we said together.