A/N: Hey guys! Thank you so much for the lovely reviews and for reading, favouriting and following, it means a lot to me :) Here is the second story and I hope you find it as fluffy as the last one XD There is some OOCness I think so sorry about that.

By the way, I would love it if you guys had any prompts for more Mycroft and Sherlock stories that you tell me about them, i'm always looking for ideas!

I would love to see what you think, so leave a review if you'd like :) xx

Against The Bullies

"Look Mycroft, look!" Sherlock called excitedly as he hurried towards his brother.

"Yes, Sherlock" Mycroft replied distantly.

He did not look up from the book he was sat reading as he leant against the old oak tree in the corner of the park. Sherlock bounded over, leaves and bits of twig sticking out of his hair and his knees covered in mud. In his hands, gripped tightly but with great care, was a bird's nest containing three blue eggs.

"I found it in the bushes over there" Sherlock said happily as he knelt down in front of Mycroft and presented the nest like a prize. He was annoyed that Mycroft seemed uninterested though as the older by just sighed and rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Oh Sherlock, you're a mess!" the older boy lightly scolded. He would be the one in trouble with Mummy is the younger boy returned home like that. "Come here" he said and Sherlock obediently wriggled over, but less than gently making a point of throwing his back into Mycroft's chest so the older boy let out a huff of discomfort.

"I wonder what kind of bird it is" Sherlock said curiously as he raised the nest above his head and twirled it around for further observation.

"Robins, of course" Mycroft said absentmindedly as he worked on untangling the bits of nature from Sherlock's hair.

"Of course" Sherlock repeated with a frown and Mycroft allowed himself a small smile. "Can I keep them?" the seven year old asked.

"No, it would not be right" Mycroft said sternly and Sherlock pouted. "They need to stay here with their mother or else they will not survive" the older Holmes explained.

"But…" Sherlock started to protest.

"Sherlock" Mycroft said sternly as he raised an eyebrow and the little boy turned to look at him glumly "You have to put it back"

"Fine" Sherlock sulked as he trudged away.

Mycroft allowed himself a small chuckle of triumph before going back to his book and blocking out the world once more.

Meanwhile, Sherlock went back to the bushes where he found the nest and placed it back in its constructed hold.

"My brother is so mean" he mumbled to the eggs "I could have taken good care of you, I know I could have"

"Hey look, he even talks to himself" a voice behind Sherlock cackled and the young boy whipped around to face Ethan Porter, a boy in the year above Sherlock– a boy who teased Sherlock constantly. He was of quite a big build for a nine year old, and much taller than Sherlock.

"I wasn't talking to myself, I was talking to the birds" Sherlock mumbled as he stood up and brushed himself down.

"Oh, you mean like the ones in cartoons which tweet around your head to prove you've gone insane" Porter teased and the couple of goons who usually followed him around like dumb dogs laughed hysterically.

Sherlock started to get angry. He was quite prone to temper outbursts and Mycroft had recently been trying to teach him ways to keep it under control because 'a temper will only bring you more bother in life.' But all that was forgotten now as Sherlock looked into the eyes of the boy who brought him nothing but torment, laughing at him like the Holmes boy was inferior, when Sherlock knew he was anything but.

"Maybe you should stop watching cartoons and read a book every once in a while" Sherlock bit back at his clenched his hands into tiny fists "maybe then you'd actually be educated and you wouldn't be such an intolerable imbecile!"

Porter frowned "What's an int…intol…" he gave up and decided to give Sherlock a cold glare instead.

Sherlock just scoffed and folded his arms across his chest; a move he had mastered from Mycroft when watching his older brother have to deal with people of similar incompetence.

"I think you just proved me right" Sherlock said smugly.

"He's calling you stupid, mate" one of Porter's dunderheads informed him – well, maybe he was not as much of a dunderhead as Porter.

"Well the only reason you know such big words is cos you're a…" Porter stuttered "You're a…a freak!"

That was it, the buzz word which made 7 year old Sherlock regress into his metaphorical shell. Ever since he could remember, other children and even adults – like their stupid nanny – had accused him of being a freak. Just because he was intelligent beyond his years did not mean he was not human, could not comprehend certain notions. He was just 7 years old after all, how could anyone write someone off as 'not right' at 7, and just like most boys Sherlock's age name calling could hurt.

Mycroft always told Sherlock he was extraordinary, but in a very positive way. He said that he was proud of Sherlock for taking on all sorts of information at such a young age – although Mycroft did no always approve of his brother's methods, like messy experimenting. Sherlock had learnt a lot of what he knew from Mycroft, and he did not think his older brother was a freak, he thought Mycroft was brilliant – an annoying arse sometimes, but brilliant. Mycroft had never called him a freak.

"I…I am not a freak" Sherlock squeaked, all confidence leaving him.

He tried to remember what Mycroft had told him about keeping level headed in these situations and not let physical brutality become an obstacle, but Sherlock could already see the way that Porter's fists opened and closed, just waiting for an excuse to hit the Holmes boy.

"Yes you are" Porter pushed "You know things you shouldn't, you do things you shouldn't. No wonder you don't have any friends. I mean, who would want you? Lonely. Little. Freak" and with that, he stepped forward and forcefully shoved Sherlock to the ground.

Sherlock could feel the hatred burning in his eyes, but really he supposed it was just the sting of the tears he was deeply trying to supress. Sherlock did not think he was lonely because he had Mycroft, but he also did not like having the fact no one wanted to be with him at school rubbed in his face. I am not a freak; I am not a freak he chanted to himself as he squeezed his eyes shut tight.

"Aww, is baby Sherlock gunna cry?" Porter scoffed "Even your name is freaky." He leant over Sherlock, looking like he was finally going to hit the smaller boy, but he was suddenly pulled back when a hand landed on his shoulder firmly.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you" Mycroft spoke calmly as he removed his hand and went to help Sherlock up instead. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly, not conveying the true extent of his concern. Sherlock nodded and then clung tightly to his brother's side as Mycroft turned to face Porter and his friends again.

"You can't do that! You can't just get your brother to fight for you!" Porter argued.

"No one is fighting anyone" Mycroft said in his usual calm composure as he folded his arms across his chest – only Sherlock knew just how dangerous Mycroft's calmness could be. "I simply request that you apologise to Sherlock for any words and actions intended to harm him"

"Why? He started it!" Porter argued.

"No I didn't, I was minding my own business and then you called me insane!" Sherlock retorted, though he still held onto the back of Mycroft's shirt.

"It's alright, Sherlock" Mycroft said as he placed a reassuring hand on his brother's back. "I'll handle this…" he turned his attention back to Porter "and do you think it fair to pick on someone who is two years younger than you and nowhere near your physical stature?"

"Well…you're way older than me!" Porter responded in a defensive manner he seemed determined to maintain.

"Yes but I'm not picking on you" Mycroft pointed out "We're just having a conversation, or at least, I'm endeavouring to, and I asked you a perfectly valid and general question"

Sherlock thought Mycroft had the patience of a saint with this boy – he knew how much his brother just hated dealing with extremely slow people.

Porter looked around for a moment as if he did not know what to say, but then something obviously caught his eye and he turned back to Mycroft with a smirk and a glint of malice in his eyes.

"Well, if we're bringing big brothers into this, here comes mine now" he said nodding towards the bulk of a boy – 16, Mycroft would say – heading towards them along with a slightly smaller friend. Why did idiots like them need followers to feed their big egos?

"Oi, runt!" the boy aimed his insult at Mycroft "I saw you grab my little brother just then…"

"I did not grab him" Mycroft said, still oozing serenity "And I was simply stopping him from assaulting my little brother"

The older Porter brother looked around at Sherlock who was nervously hidden in Mycroft's side. Right now Sherlock was not sure if Mycroft was being brave by standing up for him or just stupid, but he knew Mycroft must know perfectly well what he was doing, it would be so unlike him to just dive in without a calculated outcome.

Ryan Porter smirked "So, you must be the little freak Ethan tells me so much about" he sneered and Sherlock buried his face into Mycroft's side as he tried to block everything out – he so hated that word!

And that was when the first crack in Mycroft's composure began to surface. He knew how much Sherlock detested being called that, and Mycroft himself hated the noun and everything it implied. His brother was most certainly not a… he would not even think of it. Mycroft himself had had enough encounters involving that word, and although it did not seem to bother him when aimed at him specifically, it did bother him when Sherlock came home from school in tears because he had been called it incessantly.

"You know what; I think you've got bigger problems to worry about right now than our brothers' supposed misdeeds" Mycroft snapped "Those flowers which you just gave your girlfriend aren't going to fix the problems you're having, you're clearly a cheapskate anyway because you didn't even buy them for her. I'd like to tell you it's something you've done but really she's having an affair with your friend over here" he nodded to Ryan's associate who looked away nervously.

"And I suggest you treat your brother better, you're supposed to be role model after all and teaching him about getting into fights is not the answer."

By the end of Mycroft's deductions there was an eerie silence. Mycroft did not even look smug, simply raised an eyebrow at Ryan as if waiting for some witty retort, Ryan was agape and looked like he was ready to hit Mycroft, whilst Ethan just looked dumbfounded. Sherlock was looking up at his brother in great admiration and awe – he would be able to make deductions like that someday.

After Ryan did not respond, Mycroft spoke up again. "I suggest you and your friend have whatever kind of fight you're about to have and then pop along to see your girlfriend. So, we shall leave, good day" he said with a nod. "Come along, Sherlock" he said sticking out his hand which the younger Holmes gripped tightly.

As they began to walk away, there was already the sound of raised voices as Ryan started yelling at his friend who simply cowered in fear. Sherlock could not fight his inner seven year old when he saw Ethan wordlessly staring after them and so he stuck his tongue out in triumph.

"Don't stoop to their level, Sherlock" Mycroft lightly reprimanded his brother, though there was a small smile tugging at his lips.

"How did you do that?" Sherlock asked excitedly as he skipped ahead of his brother "How did you know all those things!?"

"You tell me" Mycroft challenged.

"Well, the flowers were obvious because he had dirt on his fingers still from picking him and some pollen on his jeans, so he didn't by them for his girlfriend" Sherlock stated.

"Good" Mycroft nodded with approval.

"And…it was obvious she was having the affair with the friend because as soon as you mentioned it he got very nervous, his mannerisms were closed and he wanted to go unnoticed"

"Excellent" Mycroft smiled. "He had a girlfriend because there was still the faint lipstick stain on his cheek – some boys were makeup I suppose, but balance of probability – now, she kissed him on the cheek, not the lips, suggesting trouble in paradise and she failed to tell him about the dirt mark he had on his nose, so clearly she doesn't care for him greatly at this moment in time."

"Plus, he clearly does not treat his brother well, why else would the younger one want to try and pick on people he thinks are inferior to him if he himself is not made to feel inferior by someone else. He wants some kind of power in his life"

"Wow" Sherlock breathed "I hope I'm as good as you one day, Mycroft" Sherlock beamed as he took his brother's hand once more.

"Mm, maybe not as good" Mycroft teased "but I shall teach you all I can"

"So, you don't think me being smart makes me a freak then?" Sherlock asked a little timidly.

"Of course not" Mycroft said reassuringly "You have a brilliant mind, Sherlock; I've always told you that"

"And you'll always be there if I need help with bullies?" Sherlock requested.

"Always" Mycroft replied sincerely.

The brother's walked home hand in hand, Mycroft occasionally lifting Sherlock so he felt like he was gliding across the pavement. It made the little boy giggle and it was such a sweet sound to Mycroft. His brother was not a freak for being interested in birds' nests, but neither was he a normal little boy. He was something else entirely, something special, and that was a very wonderful thing.