A Certain Ostentatious Mad Man 1/2
anonymous
November 28 2011, 01:57:17 UTC
Mycroft had heard the stories from his father about the certain ostentatious mad man who had come and changed their lives for the better.
He had also originally been named Alfie Owens, but had changed that eventually.
He had grown up knowing about a man called the ‘Doctor’ and how he traveled through time and space saving people’s lives. He had heard about how when he was a baby, the Doctor had visited and Mycroft had taken a liking to the man. He had been told these stories until he was 7.
When he was 7, Sherlock had been born. A young babe with mummy’s blond hair who was clearly different than Mycroft. There would be days where Sherlock did not let out any sound or days in which he started screaming bloody murder. He didn’t know which worried Mummy and Dad more.
Mycroft had kept the stories about the Doctor to himself while his parents dealed with their jobs and Sherlock. But Mycroft was okay with that. He had started school and had begun reading… It did not stop an 8 year old from wishing that the mad man would come and take him away.
Sherlock’s hair began to grow darker while Mycroft began to grow older and started to think less of the Doctor.
He was 14 and he decided that it had all been a story that his parents had made for Mycroft's and - eventually - Sherlock’s childish amusement.
Sherlock started to grow, as did his mind. Mycroft did not deny that his younger brother was indeed smart, because if he did, that would be stupid of Mycroft.
Mycroft had told Sherlock the stories that their parents hadn’t told the almost 8 year old. Even if he couldn’t believe it, that did not mean that Sherlock had to think the same.
Sherlock thought that it was all idiotic and a ruse. (That had certainly shocked Mycroft. Since when did 7 year olds know the word ruse?)
Mycroft did not tell Sherlock another story.
In fact, he didn’t think of the Doctor really until he was in his late twenties and a certain blue box had appeared seemingly out of nowhere while he was visiting his parents.
A Certain Ostentatious Mad Man 2/?
anonymous
November 28 2011, 03:16:37 UTC
He was 29 and Mycroft had already had a spot in the government and had long changed. He had been bathed in praises by his mother, father, and whatever relative.
While he was successful, Sherlock was not. At 21, Sherlock had dropped out of college, and year later he was now living in a crappy run-down flat, addicted who knows what drug. The whole family, including Mycroft, was worried about him. Mummy was heartbroken and he didn’t know how Father felt.
He had been using whatever free time he gained on his parents, because mummy had grown ill with worry.
One day when he was going to enter the house in which they had lived his whole life, out of nowhere a big blue police box had just materialized. He had never seen anything like this before, ever, so he was certainly shocked. But Mycroft had known that he had to keep a calm exterior.
A man, of all things, came out of the box. A man with a rectangular face, wearing a Stetson at that who didn’t look all that older than him.
“Oh hello!” The man said a smile on his face. “Do you know where I can find a Craig Owens?”
Mycroft raised a eyebrow. A man falling out of a box was asking for his father. That wasn’t at all odd.
“And who is asking.” Mycroft asked, pertly.
“Ah, sorry! I’m the Doctor, and you?” The Doctor said, extending his right hand that had suspicious green stuff coating it. The Doctor quickly retracted his hand, wiping it on his tweed jacket, before extending his left hand.
Mycroft accepted the clean hand and said, “Holmes,” because he wasn’t about to give his full name to a man who had used the name of the man from his childhood stories.
“Nice to meet you, Holmes,” The Doctor obviously did not care that Mycroft had only given his last name. “Now, do you know a Craig and Sophie Owens?”
“What are your intentions?”
The man looked a bit taken back. “I’m sorry; I’m just an old friend of theirs. I take it that you know them though?”
Mycroft stopped him from shaking his head. This was insane. The Doctor was not real…
Well… There were instants when he thought that that man did exist. And that was when Alien activity was involved - it was obvious that Aliens were real, what was the point of hiding it.
Mycroft walked to the house, fished out his key, opened the door, and called out “Mummy!”
His mother, as always, was quick to respond, even if ill. “Mycroft, what is it love?”
“You have a visitor.”
His mother’s face physically lit up the second her eyes landed on The Doctor who stood in the doorway.
“OH MY GOD! Doctor!” His mother basically yelled, launching herself at the man. The Doctor laughed and pat his mother on the back.
“Nice to see you Sophie! It’s been a long time!”
His mother agreed and pulled the man in.
“Craig isn’t in. He had a late night tonight.”
Mycroft was honestly shocked. He hadn’t seen this mother like this in a year, or so. It was so odd.
The Doctor turned to Mycroft.
“This must be Alfie then!”
Mycroft scrunched his nose, he hated the name Alfie. “Mycroft.”
“Ah, I see. Do you still go by Stormageddon?” -- (A/N: I'm sorry, but this is going to be longer than 2 chapters... Maybe 4... Not sure. And I'm going to have to be updating after school on Monday.)
He had also originally been named Alfie Owens, but had changed that eventually.
He had grown up knowing about a man called the ‘Doctor’ and how he traveled through time and space saving people’s lives. He had heard about how when he was a baby, the Doctor had visited and Mycroft had taken a liking to the man. He had been told these stories until he was 7.
When he was 7, Sherlock had been born. A young babe with mummy’s blond hair who was clearly different than Mycroft. There would be days where Sherlock did not let out any sound or days in which he started screaming bloody murder. He didn’t know which worried Mummy and Dad more.
Mycroft had kept the stories about the Doctor to himself while his parents dealed with their jobs and Sherlock. But Mycroft was okay with that. He had started school and had begun reading… It did not stop an 8 year old from wishing that the mad man would come and take him away.
Sherlock’s hair began to grow darker while Mycroft began to grow older and started to think less of the Doctor.
He was 14 and he decided that it had all been a story that his parents had made for Mycroft's and - eventually - Sherlock’s childish amusement.
Sherlock started to grow, as did his mind. Mycroft did not deny that his younger brother was indeed smart, because if he did, that would be stupid of Mycroft.
Mycroft had told Sherlock the stories that their parents hadn’t told the almost 8 year old. Even if he couldn’t believe it, that did not mean that Sherlock had to think the same.
Sherlock thought that it was all idiotic and a ruse. (That had certainly shocked Mycroft. Since when did 7 year olds know the word ruse?)
Mycroft did not tell Sherlock another story.
In fact, he didn’t think of the Doctor really until he was in his late twenties and a certain blue box had appeared seemingly out of nowhere while he was visiting his parents.
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While he was successful, Sherlock was not. At 21, Sherlock had dropped out of college, and year later he was now living in a crappy run-down flat, addicted who knows what drug. The whole family, including Mycroft, was worried about him. Mummy was heartbroken and he didn’t know how Father felt.
He had been using whatever free time he gained on his parents, because mummy had grown ill with worry.
One day when he was going to enter the house in which they had lived his whole life, out of nowhere a big blue police box had just materialized.
He had never seen anything like this before, ever, so he was certainly shocked. But Mycroft had known that he had to keep a calm exterior.
A man, of all things, came out of the box. A man with a rectangular face, wearing a Stetson at that who didn’t look all that older than him.
“Oh hello!” The man said a smile on his face. “Do you know where I can find a Craig Owens?”
Mycroft raised a eyebrow. A man falling out of a box was asking for his father. That wasn’t at all odd.
“And who is asking.” Mycroft asked, pertly.
“Ah, sorry! I’m the Doctor, and you?” The Doctor said, extending his right hand that had suspicious green stuff coating it. The Doctor quickly retracted his hand, wiping it on his tweed jacket, before extending his left hand.
Mycroft accepted the clean hand and said, “Holmes,” because he wasn’t about to give his full name to a man who had used the name of the man from his childhood stories.
“Nice to meet you, Holmes,” The Doctor obviously did not care that Mycroft had only given his last name. “Now, do you know a Craig and Sophie Owens?”
“What are your intentions?”
The man looked a bit taken back. “I’m sorry; I’m just an old friend of theirs. I take it that you know them though?”
Mycroft stopped him from shaking his head. This was insane. The Doctor was not real…
Well… There were instants when he thought that that man did exist. And that was when Alien activity was involved - it was obvious that Aliens were real, what was the point of hiding it.
Mycroft walked to the house, fished out his key, opened the door, and called out “Mummy!”
His mother, as always, was quick to respond, even if ill. “Mycroft, what is it love?”
“You have a visitor.”
His mother’s face physically lit up the second her eyes landed on The Doctor who stood in the doorway.
“OH MY GOD! Doctor!” His mother basically yelled, launching herself at the man. The Doctor laughed and pat his mother on the back.
“Nice to see you Sophie! It’s been a long time!”
His mother agreed and pulled the man in.
“Craig isn’t in. He had a late night tonight.”
Mycroft was honestly shocked. He hadn’t seen this mother like this in a year, or so. It was so odd.
The Doctor turned to Mycroft.
“This must be Alfie then!”
Mycroft scrunched his nose, he hated the name Alfie. “Mycroft.”
“Ah, I see. Do you still go by Stormageddon?”
--
(A/N: I'm sorry, but this is going to be longer than 2 chapters... Maybe 4... Not sure. And I'm going to have to be updating after school on Monday.)
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I love it! I wonder if Mycroft remembers his first name-choice.
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