Chapter Two

Sibling Rivalry

*Three years have passed since Sherlock got Redbeard*

Sherlock wiped the blood from his lip as he struggled to his feet, only to be pushed back down to the ground. As his head hit the pavement, tears began to swell up in his eyes.

"Oh look, little Shirley's gonna cry again! What's a matter Shirley, big brother not here to save you?" Unfortunately that was correct. Sherlock had been given permission to work late afterschool on his science project, and on his way home he bumped into some bullies, or as Mycroft described them, "dim witted Neanderthals whose pea brained minds could only be entertained by seeing others in pain". Usually Mycroft could defend his little brother by insulting the boys with as many big words that could think of, or a teacher would stop things before they got too violent, but neither of those was a possibility. And while Sherlock was exceedingly intelligent, he did not have much in the muscles department and was not one for starting a fight, much less end one.

"Just please give me my things back." Sherlock muttered through the tears. But his pleas were in vain, as the bullies took his textbooks and began to rip the pages out. Sherlock could do nothing but watch as the boys tired themselves out, ending their pillage of the young genius's things by throwing his backpack onto one of the nearby school roofs and pushing him into the mud. Sherlock then spent the next half hour trying to get his backpack down, succeeding only when the janitor helped him get it. Head held low, he dragged his feet as he made his way to his house.

Sherlock tried to wipe as off as much blood and mud as he could, but the stains could not escape Mummy Holmes's eyes when her boy walked through the door. "Sherlock! What happened to you?" She exclaimed as she kneeled down to face the young man. "Was it those boys at school again?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." He mumbled, trying to hold back the tears that were beginning to come back.

"Sherlock I've told you before, you have to learn to stand up for yourself, " Mycroft commented from the study where he was doing his homework, "They see your weakness and play on it. You're too emotional; crying will just invite them to punch you more."

"MYCROFT! Go to your room." Mrs. Holmes pointed to the stairs and glared at her son. Mycroft gathered up his things and sulked to his room, mumbling something about "just trying to be realistic" before catching his mother's eyes and walking faster. The older woman looked back at her child, who was now sobbing under his messy, curly hair. "Don't listen to him honey, you're fine just the way you are. Tomorrow I'll contact the children's parents again, I'm sure we can deal with this." She smiled and wiped the tears from his eyes. Sherlock was often picked on at school, mainly from the older boys who teased him for his intelligence. Mrs. Holmes was no stranger to bullying, as she and her older child had to deal with it when they were younger, but Sherlock was having a harder time dealing with it. The young boy had no friends save his brother and even they didn't have the greatest relationship. In fact, it seemed that the only true friend he had in the world was Redbeard, and although she knew it wasn't that healthy, Redbeard seem like the only person, well dog that would make him happy.

"Is it okay if I skip dinner tonight…I just want to go to my room," Sherlock asked quietly.

"That's fine honey, do you want to bring Redbeard in with you?" Normally they didn't let the dog in the house very often, but she could tell that he needed him. Sherlock nodded his head as a little smile crossed his face. "Okay, you can head up to your room and I'll bring him in shortly, alright?" Sherlock nodded again and began to climb up the stairs. Mrs. Holmes then let Redbeard into the house and up to Sherlock's room.

Young Sherlock was in his bed as the Irish Setter came into the room and began to lick his face. "Redbeard no." The boy laughed as he tried to push the dog away, but to no avail as Redbeard continued to cover the Sherlock's face in slobber. After a few minutes the dog stopped and leaped onto the bed, curling up by his feet. Sherlock lied down next to him and put his arms around the creature. A few minutes later a knock was heard outside of his room as his brother came in scratching his head.

"Hello brother." Mycroft said as he stood by the doorway.

"What do you want?" Sherlock's arms tightened on the dog.

"I just wanted to say that I was sorry for what I said earlier. It was rude."

"Did mummy make you said that?"

"Well yes, but I also mean it. I shouldn't have said that, especially after what you went through." Mycroft went over to scratch Redbeard behind the ear as the dog licked his hands.

"Well thank you for the apology, but Redbeard and I would like to be alone now."

"You're going to spend all night alone in your room with that dog?"

"Yes, and we would like you to leave us alone please."

"Fine." Mycroft began to walk out of the door, but before he could he turned to his little brother. "You know Sherlock, you're my brother and I know it may not seem like it but I care about you, and I don't want you to get hurt again. You need to be able to harden yourself up for the real world, and you can't do that I if you let your emotions take control of you. And you have to start with Redbeard, Sherlock, you have to let go of your connection with that dog."

"Redbeard is the only friend I have Mycroft! He cares about me and I care about him and he's my only friend."

"I care about you Sherlock! I know it may seem like I don't but I do, and I just want to make sure that you can defend yourself later in life. You need to start relying on yourself more often because I'm not going to be able to be there for you forever, and neither is mum, dad, or Redbeard." And with that, Mycroft walked out of the room and slammed the door. Sherlock spent the rest of the night with cuddling with Redbear, unbeknownst to him that this exact conversation would play in his head over and over not a year later.