Mycroft Age: 17

"Oh my God SHERLOCK!"

"Let me go Mycroft!"

"NO! Sit down! Sit down Sherlock, right now."

"What will you do to me then huh?" Sherlock angrily sits down, nearly kicking the table over in the process. Why does he feel the need to fight my authority? It doesn't make any sense, I'm the higher ranking officer, I'm in charge when mum and dad are out, really, he shouldn't be fighting the system so hard. What's wrong with him? Must be something mental. Maybe he's insane.

"Sherlock! Will you just listen to yourself? Mum and dad have gone out on a date, which they rarely do anymore, and you still want to burn down the house!"

"I'm not burning down the house, I'm doing an experiment!"

"You know how mum and dad feel about you doing experiments!"

"But Mycroft! YOU'RE MY BROTHER! You're supposed to be cooler then them!"

"And you're supposed to listen to me. I said no Sherlock." Sherlock grumbles,

"Why not?"

"Because I can make a list of how many things can go wrong."

"Name them."

"You'll burn down the house, you'll stink up the house, you'll break another glass vial, you'll stain the carpet, you'll release poisonous gases into the air, you'll terrorize the cat, you'll leave a window open and make our bill go up for heating, you'll-" he cuts me off,

"No I won't MYCROFT!"

"Every single time I let you do some sort of experiment, one of those things happens. EVERY SINGLE TIME. I'm sick of getting into trouble for you! Have you noticed that I do that? I take the fall for you Sherlock, when usually, it's one of your idiotic plans that should get YOU into trouble. I'm sick of being your fall guy. Are we clear?" Sherlock looks like he's about to cry. Oh God. Maybe I was too harsh on him. I sometimes am. That's not good of me is it? "I SAID ARE WE CLEAR SHERLOCK?"

"YES!"

"Good! Now run along. I don't want you doing any experiments." He kicks his chair over as he stomps out of the kitchen. I sigh while I right it. That wasn't good. That was really bad. I almost slapped him. Look at me now, I'm shaking. I take a seat and put my head in my hands. He's trying to break me, and it might be working. Why does he have to be such a handful? Why do mum and dad have to leave when I'm not feeling up to keeping Sherlock out of trouble. I have homework I need to do. Things I need to finish, and Sherlock won't let me. He's too energetic for his own good. Too curious for his own good, and it tears me to pieces because I can't let him be himself. He's such a strange child, always has been. I don't think he likes me, that's why he treats me like dirt. Tramples on me. I sniff the air to make sure he hasn't done anything stupid yet. I know he's going to do that experiment anyway. Nothing yet. Good. Maybe he's letting me rest a bit until I'm ready to put up with him. A solitary tear leaks out of my eye. Why am I crying? He didn't do anything to me. He's just being a brat, that's nothing to cry over. Maybe it's because you aren't good enough Mycroft. Maybe he's acting out because he doesn't want to end up like you. You're spoiled, pompous, arrogant. You don't really pay attention to him unless you absolutely have to. It's one of those things Mycroft, you might need to change. But I don't want to change. I'm not really any of those things am I? Don't be ridiculous, of course you are. You get it from your bastard father too. Of course you are. Maybe it's time to change, make sure you don't end up like him. That's a start Mycroft. That's a start. I sniff the air again. There. He's doing it anyway, just like I told him not too. Don't get mad at Sherlock, assess the problem, and maybe even help him with his experiment. Is that too much to ask? I don't think so. I stand up and straighten myself out. He hasn't broken me yet. Just shown me my error. And I can fix it now. Slowly, I creep up the stairs, he's going to try and hide it if he hears me. I need to sneak up on him, show him how to fix his issue and then finish that mathematics homework I should have done last night, but I was too busy doing an experiment of my own to even bother with it. I know what he's trying to do. The past seven times he's failed. He's adding too much sulfur, not enough water, and just a tad to much grass. "Sherlock?" I call when I'm at his door, his room's a mess. It always is. Maybe his brain functions too fast for him to worry about doing anything about it. He jumps and spins to face me,

"What?" He asks, sounding offended, hiding his project behind his back.

"Listen. Sorry. Now here's what you need to fix."

"I'll figure it out myself Mycroft. I don't need your 'I've got a stick shoved up my arse' tips right now. Can't you see I'm busy?" I sigh. I expected this.

"Thought you might want to know you'll end up burning down the house, and leaving a foul smell behind if you do what you're attempting. I'm not getting blamed for it this time, you are." He looks at me sheepishly,

"How do I fix it?"

"Don't add so much sulfur, you have too much grass, and not enough water. And you said I have a stick shoved up my arse. You're going to fail." I turn and leave, his smile burned into my memory. Cheeky bugger. It's always, 'I'm fighting the system' with him. I don't understand it personally, but I guess, to each his own. He is only a teenager after all. My only question is, why can't he be like other teenagers? He should be fighting with me about girls and drugs, not experiments and grades.

As promised. Now what do you think? Thank you all my lovely readers. I love you all. You all are brilliant. I live on your feedback, and your ideas. If you have any questions, comments, suggestions, don't hesitate to say anything. You are all brilliant, you make my day when you send me awesome reviews. Thank you again. You're brilliant! I'd like to do some shout outs if it's not too much trouble.

First off: I'd like to take care of four people at once because I hate long author's notes. TO MY VERY GOOD FRIENDS WHO HAVE BEEN WITH ME SINCE 'This Should Be Interesting': cookieascrazy, M.G. Montecello, Gen, and The Improbable One. You guys are simply brilliant. Most of my reviews are from you guys, who have been faithful since the beginning, I would like to take a moment and personally thank you for your support. You are brilliant. Every time I open my email, I hope it's from one of you guys, and I'm not usually disappointed because I'm crazy about reviews and I just love getting them, even if it's not from you four because reviews are love.

Secondly: RavenImperatrix. You've been with me a while now. You're thoughtful and know just what I need to hear. And you're also a brilliant writer. Don't let anyone tell you differently.

And Finally: To Sherlock. The Show itself. I could never do anything for this with out it. It's amazing, brilliant and I love it. Because of Sherlock, I've written this and others and become a better writer.

Note to reviewers not mentioned: If you were not mentioned, do not frett, I love you just the same and the rest, if not more. You are all brilliant and keep this story up and running.

I'm shooting for another forty chapter story. That means a little bit less then fifteen chapters to go people. If you want something done, you contact me. I'll probably do another one too because I'm just having a ball with these, but if you want something done in this story, I'll give you credit and write it out.

Thanks for enduring my chatter. Have a nice night. Good night, thank you and may your sword be ever brighter.

Until Gallifrey is free,

Time Lord Victorious