Sorry, I've actually been sitting on this chapter for a while, but I hadn't updated. Thank you, concerned reader for the continuous reminder comments to keep me on track. They were not annoying at all. Seriously.
Sherlock held his mother's hand as they walked down the street to the school. They were both sullen and silent.
"So Mycroft is going to be picking me up?" Sherlock finally asked.
"Yes." His mother said curtly. She wasn't upset at Sherlock, merely her work mate who had called her early that morning to bicker with her over the yearly earnings report. It had been so mundane and unimportant; it had ruined her mood for the rest of the day.
"I love you." Sherlock said as they turned the corner and approached the school. This took his mother by surprise.
"I love you too baby." She said genuinely, squeezing his hand. "Have a great day. Remember that Kindergarten is going to be the best time of your life."
Sherlock scowled. All adults say the same things: This is going to be the best time of your life. It didn't seem that great to him. Either growing up was really that bad, or they couldn't remember as accurately as they thought they did.
As they got closer to the school, Sherlock was able to make out familiar faces, including—darn! That Sally girl! He'd meant to arrive before her. Perhaps he could still get his backpack on the hook before her.
He also saw John, which made him stop for a moment. John was talking to another boy, and seemed to be a bit uncomfortable about it.
"John!" Sherlock called waving and left his mother's arm to race into the school yard.
John looked up, caught his eye, and sighed in relief. He gave a little shrug to the other boy, and abandoned him to run up to Sherlock.
"Good morning!" John said cheerily.
"It is now!" Sherlock said, and in short related his family's decisions regarding his schooling.
"That's tough!" John said. "And they didn't tell you about it until today?"
Sherlock snorted. "Non-verbally, of course. I believe every other member of my family is telepathic!"
"Hey, that'd be cool!" John said, and their conversation quickly drifted into telepathy and the supernatural.
As they chatted, they were both totally unaware of their watcher, staring at them from just inside the open door of the classroom.
Sherlock's mother stared at the two conversing boys also from where she had been left outside the chain-linked fence, her empty hand catching a draft. She smiled, pulled out her phone and headed home, certain that her little boy would be safe and enjoying new experiences at his new school.