Alright so this is a childhood version of Sherlock, yes I know it's been done a million times, but I wanted to do one as well :D

Sherlock and his brother Mycroft were orphans. Their parents had died soon after the eldest, Mycroft had turned 18. This left the younger Holmes boy in the care of his older brother until he turned 18. Currently, Sherlock was 8. He was an odd child. He never cried, hardly ever talked and when he did, he demonstrated an intellect people never expected from the skinny, pale Holmes child.

Unlike his brother, Sherlock didn't have friends and didn't seem to want them. To him, emotions were things that should be avoided and they should never get in the way of something more important.

Sherlock and Mycroft's parents were well-off, and with the life insurance, the two boys would never need to worry about money for the rest of their lives. They lived in a mansion that was about an hour and a half train ride away from London.

Mycroft and Sherlock were as different as day and night. They never saw eye to eye, and they never understood each other. They had a strained relationship at best.

John Watson had just moved from the hustle and bustle of London to the quaint suburbs after his mother had passed away. His father and sister, Harry were kind and loving. John was a normal 10 year-old boy. He wanted to be a doctor when he grew up, and he loved dinosaurs and the solar system.

John lived a relatively normal life; that is until he met Sherlock Holmes.

It was the first day of school. Both Sherlock and John were going into grade 5. Sherlock awoke right on time. He didn't like school, because that's where all the people he hated were, but he never missed a chance to make his enemies feel insignificant. So, he pulled on the frumpy, uncomfortable uniform that he was required to wear, and grabbed a glass of water, which he drained quickly, before running out of the house.

He got to the school before the doors had even been opened, so instead he sat on the monkey bars in the playground people watching. He liked to watch people more than he liked interacting with them. He loved to deduce things about all the people. He knew who had been having family problems the night before. He knew what people had eaten for breakfast. He never asked if he was right because he knew he was.

Then, with 25 minutes until school started, Sherlock saw someone new.

John tried to be brave, but he was nervous. It was a small town, and he knew that he would stick out a like a sore thumb.

He held his head high regardless. He would be back in London in a few years. His father thought that a few years in the country would be good for the family. He missed London. He missed the busy streets and the ability to get around without needing his father to drive him everywhere.

"Single parent. Father by the looks of it. You have a brother. You two have never gotten along, but he still tries. You moved here for 'fresh air', most likely from London. Sherlock Holmes."

John heard this entire break-down of his life from beside him. He didn't realize that someone had come up to him and was walking beside him until 'Sherlock' spoke.

"John. Watson." John managed to stammer out once he'd recovered his voice.

"Was I right?" Sherlock asked, staring down at the short blonde boy with eyes that looked like they were made of steel.

"Sister. I have a sister, not a brother." John said.

"Darn. There's always something."

"That was amazing. How'd you do that?" John asked excitedly.

"Quite simple. The stitching on your pant leg is crooked. Usually one parent can sew better than the other, and statistically women are better than men at sewing so I assumed that you only have a father. You have a keychain on your backpack that says 'Love Harry' but it's covered in mud. You don't really care for it, yet you keep it, so brother you don't get along with, but the mere fact of the keychain suggests that he still tries to win your affection. Your boots are speckled with mud. It hasn't rained here for a week and a half, and you just got here. Your shirt is wrinkled, badly, so you threw it on out of a suitcase. The only place it has rained in the past 48 hours within reasonable travel distance is London, or rather that area."

John couldn't speak. He was dumb-founded.

"What grade?" Sherlock continued.

"Five."

"Class?" Sherlock asked, cocking his head to the side, as if intrigued by the blonde boy.

"Baker's" John said, still unable to speak in more than a few syllables.

"Classroom 221B. This way." Sherlock said, marching off towards the school with an alarming fast pace, and yet he didn't look like he was really trying.

Miss Baker was a lovely Scottish lady. She was about 20, barely out of university. She moved to London about two years ago.

Sherlock introduced John to her. He smiled shyly before handing her a slip of paper he'd received from the office. He knew immediately that John thought she was beautiful, but she was engaged. Newly, by the way she was fiddling with the diamond ring on her left hand.

Andy and Sally were the next two children to show up.

"Hey, freak. Why are you still here? I thought you were better than the rest of us." Sally said as she took the seat on Sherlock's left. Sherlock didn't respond, not because he was embarrassed or ashamed, but because he was barely paying attention to the coffee-skinned girl.

"She is talking to you, freak." Andy said taking the seat behind Sherlock, because the seat to his right was taken by John who they'd failed to acknowledge.

"Oi. He's not a freak." John said, taking the attention of Sally and Andy off of Sherlock.

"And who are you?" Sally inquired with a cruel smirk.

"John."

"And why, John, do you care if we're calling them as we see them?" Andy asked.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were blind." John replied earnestly.

Sherlock snickered, and by the time Sally and Andy had figured out that they'd been insulted John was laughing as well.

"Fine, be the freak's pet. You won't make many friends that way." Sally sneered before moving desk to the one in the far back corner.

"Why did you do that?" Sherlock asked.

"Because I can't stand people like that, and you're the closest thing I have to a friend right now."

"Alright class, let's get started." Miss Baker said, cutting off Sherlock's reply.

Friend? Sherlock thought, Never had one of those before.

Alright, so I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. This will be a few chapters long (maybe 5 idk), and if you did enjoy please leave a review 3