"Where to now then?" John asked the Doctor.
"Not too far forward…" the Doctor wasn't focused on John though, he was too busy trying to get the TARDIS to land in exactly the right place and time. Everything went silent. "Here we are."
"Welcome back to the 80s John! I suppose you were alive in the 80s, well when I say 80s I mean 1981, barley the 80s at all!" the Doctor badgered on while John took in his surroundings. To John it looked little like the 80s he remembered as a young man. They were in a large garden; freshly cut grass meant the lawn was in lines of green, changing from shade to shade of the colour.
"Where exactly are we?" John looked around.
"The Holmes' residence." the Doctor twisted on his heels and John turned to see what the Doctor twisted to. Now in front of them was a large country home, built of brown brick with chiselled stone, slated roof and countless windows. John saw a side of Sherlock he didn't even know existed.
"This is where Sherlock grew up?" John was stunned.
"Yes didn't he tell you?"
"We never really discussed this part of our lives; Sherlock had always just been a man to me,"
"We were all children once John," the Doctor reminded John.
"Even you Doctor?"
The Doctor gave no reply and just carried on towards the house. John followed as ever.
"You could get lost in a house like this," John commented.
"Yes and that's exactly what we are planning on doing."
"What?"
"Sneak in, take a peak at a five year old Sherlock, maybe tease Mycroft a bit, and carry on."
"Doctor we can't just break into someone's house let alone a house like this. It'll be full of security cameras!"
"I have that covered," the Doctor explained as they reached the outside walls of the house. He found a box on the side of the wall, small and grey with wires coming out of it and burying themselves back into the house.
The Doctor cracked the box open and started rummaging through it. John wasn't taking noticed of him on the floor, keeping watch that no one would see them, it was then he heard a strange buzzing sound. Looking down he saw it was coming from a strange contraption the Doctor held in his hand, pointing towards the box.
"What are you doing? Jabbing it with a screwdriver or something?"
"Well yes... something like that." the Doctor slid the thing back in his pocket. "All cameras are now off," wandering off; it wasn't too long before the Doctor found an open window. His thin body slipped through with ease. Once fully inside the Doctor poked his head out.
"Coming Watson?"
"Yes just bare with me," John told him as the Doctor helped him through.
The two found themselves in a hall way, an incredible regal looking hallway, pictures hung on the walls and a long carpet draped across the floor. The two doctors travelled for what seemed like a life time until they heard a noise. A child crying. The two followed the sound. It led to a door which was open slightly a jar. Poking their heads through they investigated.
It appeared to be a playroom. Cuddly toys and a model train set lay across the ground. Within were two small children and a woman sitting in a chair, a beautiful woman. She was five years older and less worn compared to when John last saw her. She had aged like fine wine, in a long white dress with brown hair in a bun. Her face looked like it had been sculpted from the finest porcelain, one of the two children in the room, the younger, resting in her lap. Arms around the woman and the woman's arms round him. The other child still had what we would refer to as baby fat. He was wearing a pair of shorts, held by braces and a shirt. His face looked snotty and angry.
"Mycroft you should never hurt your brother. You are the one who needs to look after him when father is away. Now go to your room and don't come out till tea." The mother didn't raise her voice but her anger could be heard. The crying that had come from the child on her lap was now a mere sobbing.
"But mother he did that thing again! When he's all smart!"
"You are just jealous Mycroft; the doctors said he is a very special young boy. Love your brother for what he can do and don't let it upset you."
Young Mycroft stormed out in childish anger, John and the Doctor hid behind the door to stay out of view. Once the miserable child was gone the two carried on looking.
"It's okay Sherlock the bullies gone, mother's here." Her voice was gentle.
"Don't leave me mummy," was all John and the Doctor could make out from the mumbles in her arms.
"You know I won't Sherlock, I'm always here." She nuzzled her head closer to her sons and hummed to him. Picking him up and heading for the door that concealed John and the Doctor, the two stealthily ran down the hall, hoping Mrs. Holmes would not follow.
"You can see why the two brothers' don't get on," John whispered as they wandered off.
"It's a shame isn't? Everyone needs family, even the great Sherlock Holmes." The Doctor stopped in his tracks outside a door. It was a black wooden door and written on a marble plaque was "Sherlock's Room" which enticed them in all the more. "Well you know you want to John," the Doctor grinned. John looked to the time lord then back to the door.
"Geronimo." John said under his breath.
"Hey that's mine!" the Doctor was distraught as they both walked in.
Blue walls across the room. A small bed littered with clothing. There were little next to no toys in the room what the two both realised, toys must have been reserved for the play room. There was the odd toy John took notice of, things like board games specifically.
"Cluedo, of course he would." John chuckled as he saw the old board tattered and worn on the floor. Operation lay next to it; all the pieces lay perfectly next to the picture of the man on the bed with the blinking red nose, which also seemed fitting. What primarily lay across the room though were book, countless books.
Fiction and non fiction, across all different interests, the only thing what they had in common was the fact that they were all way beyond the average reading level of a five year old. The two stood circling each other in wonder, which came to a halt though when they heard a female's voice coming to the door.
"Quick hide!" Doctor shouted as he ran into young Sherlock's wardrobe. John froze but then followed.
"I'm use to places like this being bigger on the inside you know." Doctor whispered, John was so close he could feel the Doctor's breath.
Peering through a crack in the closet door John saw mother Holmes' come in with a child in her arms, placing him on his bed. A kiss on his forehead and she left him. They watched the young Sherlock, and the young Sherlock knew, despite their best ability to hide.
"You're scared." The young boy said, looking towards the closet. "I didn't leave the closet door ajar and there are shoe imprints on the carpet."
This was definitely Sherlock.
The two men came out from their hiding place and confronted the five year old, finally getting a good view of the young Sherlock. The idea of baby fat had not come to this young child as he was so thin. He had a long young thin face. His eyes were still just as piercing as they ever were as John knew them, but they were red. The left one had black around it. John presumed that must have been what Mycroft did to him.
"How do you know we are scared?" the Doctor broke the silence.
"Your eyes, your breathing pattern," his next comment was aimed primarily at John. "You're sweating." He looked to both the men again. "Why are you here? Who are you?" young Sherlock's voice was soft, light, but still had that great sound to it. John was silent in shock; luckily the Doctor could do the talking for them.
"We are just visiting little one, don't worry." the Doctor smiled at the boy. Sherlock had kept his young child mouth completely straight, yet seeing the Doctor's smile made him even lift his face a little.
"Goodbye, Sherlock." The Doctor turned to the door, John followed behind.
"Do I know you?" little Sherlock said to John.
"Me?" John didn't quite know what to say, he could have explained it all to the young Sherlock right there, about who he was, and who he was going to become.
"No you don't know me." John answered, and left. The two headed back to the TARDIS.
"What Sherlock going to say to his mother about me?" John asked.
"Oh she won't care, she'll just think we were his imagination. "
"What happened to that little child Doctor?" John was full of questions.
"What happens to all cute children," the Doctor threw a leaver. "He grew up."