Precocious was a word that had often been applied, but seldom did justice to Sherlock's childhood. Hyperactive, pain in the arse, nightmare is what they had actually meant but were too polite to say. Sherlock was easily bored, refused to sleep, refused to eat meals, sit still, wear clothes or in any other way cooperate with grown up requests.
The only one who came near to controlling him was Mycroft, who was every bit as clever as Sherlock but had realised at a very early age that if you played the grown up game, it was a lot easier to get what you wanted and be left alone. So there was only one picture of the Holmes brothers together. Mycroft looking superior in his school uniform, his straw boater rakishly askew on his copper curls. And Sherlock, who looked like he had been pressure fed into a Barbapapa T-shirt and velvet cardigan, scowling at the camera with real malice in his Silver eyes. The camera did not show Mycroft's restraining hand on Sherlock's belt, nor did it record the conversation they had prior to the picture being taken. Mycroft had made it clear that unless Sherlock cooperated he would be sent to a prison guarded by black phantoms that sucked your brains out if you misbehaved. After that Sherlock had decided to come quietly. But he had never had his picture taken again, other than one strip of passport pictures that made him look like a murderer.
In contrast Mrs Watson had a whole drawer full of pictures of her children. Harriet and John at Christmas opening their presents. The School photos, the sports team photos, Holiday photos, John's graduation picture, pictures he had sent her back from Afghanistan. Hundreds of moments captured forever. John had been very photogenic as a child with his blond hair and round cheeks. People had suggested he should have modelled for catalogues and things, but he was a bit wriggly and Mrs Watson had decided against it.
Her favourite picture was one of Harriet and John which was taken when John was about two or three. Harriet was proudly wearing her new school uniform and beaming at the camera whilst she held on to her little brother. John wasn't exactly smiling, he looked more thoughtful than anything else, with the hint of a shy little grin on his face. Just in the bottom corner of the picture was the distinct outline of a green furry nose, Frank had managed to get in on the act as well. But the collection in the drawer had not been added to for years now. John had developed an intense dislike of having his picture taken after he had come back from the army. As though he was afraid of what the camera might capture.
It was Greg LeStrade who took the picture. On his phone. His cheap free with a year's contract from Tesco phone. Sherlock had his arm around John's shoulders and was laughing. John had for some reason got a large curly moustache drawn on his face with burnt cork, and was looking up at Sherlock with an exasperated expression and a look in his eyes that clearly said "You are my universe."
Everyone wanted a copy. Even John and Sherlock.