A/N okay so this is my first fanfiction ever...and i saw this fanfiction somewhere about childhood of Sherlock and Idk this sorta happened. I plan on writing the whole deal but I am not sure about the right perspective or even the plot ...so its kinda of one shot for now. Also I don't know how the beta-reading thing works...if someone could explain in comments or pm me...so i guess sorry for any obvious mistakes..and please please tell me how you feel about it...i am totally new to this and it would mean a lot to me..thanks;)
Mr and Mrs Holmes were extremely careful. They didn't want to disturb their four year old with the screeching sound of the door and wake him up but unfortunately for them Mycroft Holmes was already up and about. He took special care not to wake up his nanny but at the same time had his keen sense put to good use when his mommy and daddy had told him about today being the day when "his little brother" arrived. Mycroft was uncertain as to how this phenomenon occurred. He tried reading certain books (the keyword being tried) but almost always snatched those books away saying that they were for 'adults' and he was still a little boy as she repeatedly insisted.
What didn't realize was Mycroft was far from the little boy she thought him to be, he was prodigy and that too of a very different kind. He seemed to excel at everything and had the continuous problem of 'being bored'. One time he engineered a plan to get beat up by the neighbour kids so that he could go to the hospital and study it. As if a four year old can even spell engineered she thought. It was at these times that Mycroft was highly offended and worked on proving that he was by no measure ordinary but at the same time wouldn't admit to her that he didn't in fact engineer the move to get beat up and was just as astonished to discover that telling the big fat guy that he was stupid and was playing the game wrong and the rules of cricket dictated otherwise and the way he dictated other kids was wrong resulted in a beating. Also his mother and father wouldn't believe that it was unprovoked and insisted that he was rude to say it even if he were telling the truth his father added in an undertone.
But Mycroft couldn't care less in his trip to the hospital he saw so many charts about the human body and was fascinated to find out that there was more to it than just name of body parts which his preschool teacher insisted was enough. Mycroft had suspected it ofcourse. Not only did the fact seem incompetent also the way his teachers lip twitched and his eyes feigned a look when he told them that seemed to be a different expression to him than he was usually telling the truth Mycroft noticed. He knew the difference between truth and lie. His mother had told him when he was three and insisted that he had not finished all the lollipops (which was a lie). His mother told him that lying was a bad habit and Mycroft trusted his mother. But lately Mycroft had noticed a lot of people around him lied to him. He couldn't pin point it exactly but something in people's faces changed when they lied. It was always the same way they acted.
So when Mrs Holmes told him that his brother was God's gift Mycroft knew he was being lied to but decided not to bring it up as usually if he pointed it out she would either deny it or say it was for his own good. Mycroft didn't understand how lying to him about anything could help but he assumed that it was because she loved him. That was another thing he didn't understand. But he accepted it for a fact.
As Mycroft came forward he noticed that his parents didn't seem surprised to see him. Their brows didn't go up as they usually did when they were surprised. Mycroft liked the fact that he could read his parents. It felt better to him to know everything about the person he was interacting with. Felt safer somehow. Mr. Holmes was more tired than surprised than to see "Mickey" as he called him. He now knew that Mycroft was not the usual child that could be fooled easily. So when Mycroft asked to hold his little brother Mr. Holmes was comfortable to. He knew that Mycroft had probably already read all there was to read on how to handle a baby.
Mycroft noticed his own heart rate increasing. He had spent a lot of time anticipating how this moment would be and how his little brother would actually look like. It all happened very fast for him to 'deduce' anything. Mycroft had learnt that it was deduction when he drew conclusions on the basis of nothing more than general premises.
The 'baby' that his father handed him was almost everything like he had seen in the books. But Mycroft noticed that he had nose similar to his mothers. His hair although now absent looked like would be black like his hair. Other than that Mycroft could comprehend anything else about him.
He had thought that 'his brother' would be something like a machine. He could figure out its meaning and purpose as soon as he saw him. He could see what 'makes him tick' but nothing like that happened. On the face of it there seemed to be no real purpose to his existence and he seemed to do nothing maintaining what Mycroft could only assume was a neutral expression. Now Mycroft remembered. The baby was supposed to be crying. Its what the book said. Babies cry. Mycroft couldn't figure out why that'd be so but something to go on was better than nothing.
"We are calling him Sherlock "his mother whispered breaking Mycroft's train of thought.
Sherlock. Mycroft like the sound of it seemed to suit the baby somehow. Just then the baby smiled at him. It wasn't a tiny smile either. Mycroft thought that when the baby smiled it lit up his face. Somehow Mycroft couldn't shake the feeling that the baby no Sherlock had smiled at him. He felt a lot better in the knowledge that he was the one at whom Sherlock had smiled at. It didn't make any sense but it was okay. Just this once.
please Read and Review guys;)