prompting part XXIII
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Prompts from this post can be filled on the Overflow Post
IMPORTANT! Spoilers for aired episodes are now being allowed on this area of the meme, without warning. If you do not want to encounter spoilers, please prompt at our Spoiler-Free Prompt Post.
( Read more... )
He sits, Sherlock in his lap, on one of the tall uncomfortable chairs in the office, legs swinging as he admires the colourful umbrellas in the stand. Mycroft knows that children like Sherlock and him don’t get to stay on their own so the tall lady will have to find a new Mummy and Father for them. He doesn’t think it’s necessary, Mycroft knows how to take care of Sherlock on his own, but grown-ups do a lot of unnecessary things.
Like for example, making the two of them stay in the tiny house with too many children in it. Sherlock doesn’t like the noise. He cries a lot and Mycroft has to find new toys to distract him. Mycroft doesn’t like it there either but he can’t soothe Sherlock while crying so he doesn’t cry. Sherlock asks the grown-ups a lot of questions but the grown-ups don’t give him answers or answers him with baby-talk so Sherlock sulks and Mycroft has to cheer him up.
When Sherlock gets hungry and the grown-ups are busy, Mycroft uses a spoon pry open the biscuit tin and break the biscuits into tiny bits that Sherlock can munch on with his tiny baby teeth. Sometimes when the flustered plump lady isn’t around, Mycroft will drag a chair to the counter and use the remaining hot tea in the teapot to make milk for Sherlock.
It’s not that hard but the milk tastes of tea. Sherlock doesn’t seem to mind. Later, Mycroft discovers huge machine that can pour out hot water with a press of a button, Mycroft is quite pleased that he doesn’t need to give Sherlock milk-that-tastes-sort-of-like-tea. To his surprise, Sherlock doesn’t like plain old milk. He still demands the tea. Cause Mycwoft made it. Mycroft burns himself once but he doesn’t cry.
Sherlock has been still for about an hour now. He’s busy trying to remember the alphabet backwards. Mycroft taught it to him yesterday, front to back. His two-year old mind is having a bit of trouble rearranging it in his brain. Mycroft thinks it’s cute how Sherlock says ‘Ahweh’ instead of ‘Are’ because mouth and lips can’t keep up with grown-up words.
Mycroft’s adorable two year old little brother finally finishes with a triumphant ‘C then B then A!’ when the tall lady walks in. There are two grown men with them.
“At this point, I would suggest you adopt either one of them.” She is talking softly with them. Mycroft isn’t sure what ‘adopt’ means but he guesses that it probably means the men are taking them home. The men keep nodding and saying ‘yes’, ‘we understand’ and ‘that’s fine’. Mycroft looks at them and pokes Sherlock. Sherlock turns his head of dark curls to them and frowns.
“No.” He says petulantly before anyone can say anything, tiny lip wobbling. Mycroft giggles. His brother is so cute!
“Look at them closely.” Mycroft tells his little brother. Sherlock goes into question mode immediately.
“Why is his hair gway? Why is he so tall? Why is his hair yewwow? Why awe twey holding hands? Awe dwey mawwied?” Sherlock fires off about sixty questions at once, Mycroft is hard pressed to keep up. Sherlock is asking so many ‘whys’, questioning the shorter man’s choice in clothing, his sad face, his chunky shoes, and the bulge at the side of the taller man’s hip. Mycroft thinks that pretty soon, when Sherlock is a little older, he can probably answer all these questions himself.
“Hello, my name is John.” The shorter, golden haired man says. Mycroft would have stuck out his hand to shake but he’s scared Sherlock will slide off the chair if he does, so he blinks twice and nods his head. John tries to touch Sherlock’s hair but Sherlock avoids it.
“No.” He repeats his statement from earlier and continues asking questions. John looks amused.
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“Well, for starters, my hair isn’t called yellow, it’s called blonde. I was born with it. I’m wearing this jumper cause I like it. It’s comfortable. When you get bigger maybe I’ll let you wear it. Okay? I’m a doctor, that’s why I smell like medicine. I help sick people get better.”
Mycroft is amazed when John dutifully answers as many questions as he can in a simple way but without using baby talk. Mycroft can also tell that Sherlock is enamoured because he goes quiet and his eyes open wide.
When the gray-haired man comes over, he is introduced as ‘Greg’ and by that time, Sherlock has allowed John to touch his hair and hold his hand. He still doesn’t want to be held though, only Mycroft gets to do that.
The tall lady comes back. John and Greg have to leave.
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The girl who sleeps in the room next to theirs is called Penny. Penny is two years older than Mycroft and she tells Mycroft that Sherlock is probably getting adopted. Mycroft sort-of knows this already but she tells him something else.
“Grown-ups don’t adopt two kids.” She says sadly. Penny has a sister but someone adopted her sister and not her because she was older. Mycroft supposes it may be true. Sherlock is already a handful, John and Greg look tired all the time so he supposes that they might not have time for two little children. Mycroft forces himself to smile anyway when they come around to talk to Sherlock.
Mycroft is pleasantly surprised when John and Greg ask the two of them if they’d like to stay over. Sherlock still has many questions but he pauses long enough to say yes and then carries on. Mycroft nods and has to manhandle his little brother into the car because he saw a butterfly and wanted to catch it.
Greg laughs when he sees Mycroft pushing Sherlock into the car. Mycroft watches as he helps Sherlock buckle his seat belt.
“Can you do it yourself?” Greg asks. Mycroft obediently does it by himself, he knew how to do it at five. Sherlock can do it himself but Greg did it for him anyway. Mycroft thinks maybe it’s because his brother is so cute, no one can resist.
Sherlock is sulking about the butterfly but Mycroft offers to teach him the numbers that come after 20 and he’s happy again.
Mycroft teaches his little brother 21 to 58 when they arrive at a house in the middle of the city with a large sign saying 221B on the top. They go upstairs, greeting a nice old lady called ‘Mrs. Hudson’ on their way. Mycroft thinks the apartment smells of home and happy. Sherlock whispers that he’s hungry. Mycroft doesn’t know where the biscuit tin is but he knows food is always in the kitchen. So when John and Greg disappear into the next room for a bit, he makes Sherlock sit on the large sofa and goes into the kitchen.
Lucky for Mycroft, there’s a stool nearby. He pulls it over to the counter and climbs to the top. There are no biscuits but there are teabags. Mycroft takes one and puts it in a cup. There is no hot water so he has to crawl to the other side of the counter, fill a tiny pot with some water and put it on the stove. He has only managed to get the stove to light when John comes in.
“What are you doing?!” He shouts. Mycroft startles and nearly knocks the pot over. He climbs down in a hurry, remembering that children aren’t supposed to be on counters.
“I’m sorry.” He says, not really feeling sorry but knowing that grown-ups like to hear that. John grabs him by the shoulders and give him a little shake.
“What were you trying to do, Mycroft?” John demands. Mycroft is taken aback.
“Sherlock was hungry. So I looked for biscuits but there were none so I thought I’d make tea-and-milk because Sherlock likes tea-and-milk.” It makes perfect sense to Mycroft but John looks so puzzled.
“I always make tea-and-milk for Sherlock.” Mycroft says defensively. It’s not hard and just because Mycroft isn’t all tall and old like other grown-ups, doesn’t mean that he doesn’t know things. John lets out a sigh but doesn’t say anything else. Mycroft watches as John heats up some milk in a pan and give it to Sherlock without any tea. Sherlock makes a face but Mycroft gives his little brother the tea bag and Sherlock cheers up immediately.
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Mycroft discovers that there’s a first aid kit under the sink and it has a lot of band-aids in it. It will be useful if Sherlock gets hurt. He also discovers that John keeps a lot of milk in the fridge and that they have a kettle that they use to boil water. The scissors, if Mycroft were ever to need them, are in the second drawer and the tablecloths are in the third. The soap and shampoo are on the shelves so Mycroft will have to drag the stool in there when he gives Sherlock his bath. There are no hot and cold handles on the tub, only a curious looking dial that adjusts the temperature of the water, it’s very useful.
Mycroft also discovers that the sofa is really comfy and he can hide biscuits between the cushions. There’s a torch in the drawer beside John and Greg’s bed -along with a lot of other things that he has never seen before but Mycroft isn’t going to ask. The room where Mycroft thinks they might be staying in has enough space for Sherlock’s toys and picture books. There’s also stacks of white paper and pens on the bookshelf if Sherlock wants to draw.
Sherlock is tired by the time five o’clock rolls around. Mycroft still has a little bit of trouble but he manages to tell the time on the large clock. Sherlock didn’t nap so he’s a little cranky. Mycroft gives him a hug and cuddle to make him feel better then makes him lie down on the sofa. Sherlock is asleep in a bit. Mycroft steals a towel from the closet to cover his brother then curls up to nap beside Sherlock.
There are more visits of course. John and Greg always come to the house after morning scones and bring them out. Sometimes, they stay with the plump lady and the tall lady, talking and signing papers for a bit.
Mycroft notes that John really likes to talk to Sherlock, no matter how many questions his little brother asks. Greg is patient but doesn’t really talk that much. Mycroft gets really used to the flat soon enough. He’s the first one to the first aid kit when Sherlock slips and cuts himself on the stairs. Sherlock is sniffing, trying not to let the tears come, when Mycroft kneels in front of him, dragging the first aid box while Greg is trying to find it in the kitchen where it obviously isn’t. John popped out to get more milk and teabags so he isn’t around.
Mycroft disinfects the cut with the bottle labeled ‘antisceptic’. He doesn’t really know what it means but he knows it makes wounds clean. Sherlock cries because it stings but Mycroft promises to teach him how to make paper airplanes and then he’s quiet. Mycroft puts a band-aid over the cut and is putting everything back when Greg emerges from the kitchen with kitchen towels.
“Here, press this against…” His voice trails off when he sees Sherlock bravely trying not to cry and Mycroft packing away the kit. Mycroft drags it past Greg and puts it back into the bathroom then heads to the bookshelf to pull out some paper. Sherlock soon forgets about the cut when Mycroft starts instructing him on how to make neat folds.
Greg kneels beside both of them and gives them both a huge hug and cuddle. Mycroft thinks he might be getting too old for it cause it makes him feel a little uncomfortable but Sherlock loves it. He wonders if children grow out of hug-and-cuddles. He doesn’t think they do because John and Greg do it all the time to each other. Mycroft wonders if there’s something wrong with him.
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Mycroft is sitting at the table, helping Sherlock hold his glass of milk (and tea) so he can take a sip when he hears John and Greg talking.
“He keeps doing things.” Greg says. John sighs and Mycroft knows that John just ran his hand through his hair. John always does that when he’s angry.
“He’s 7 going on 8. He doesn’t know any better.” John mutters. Mycroft supposes that they are talking about him. Sherlock is after all, 2 going on 3 and Mycroft doesn’t think that John and Greg have another 7 year old around all the time.
“Exactly! He’s 7 going on 8! He shouldn’t be doing these things.” Greg says, sounding worried. Mycroft wonders what he’s done wrong. He hasn’t done anything except look after Sherlock like he’s supposed to. All older brothers are supposed to look after their little brothers. Mummy told him that. Even Father told him that when Father was still around.
Sherlock is happily nibbling on the soft biscuits Mrs. Hudson brought up earlier so he doesn’t hear. Mycroft ruffles his hair, smiling when Sherlock practically beams at him.
“How are we going to deal with this?” Greg asks John.
“We have to tell him that he doesn’t need to look after Sherlock anymore.” John replies.
Mycroft’s heart sinks. Penny was right, only the littler kids get adopted after all. He tries not to let his disappointment show. He’s going to miss his little brother lots and he hopes Sherlock doesn’t miss him too much. Mycroft resolves not to cry.
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When Greg takes them to the Yard, Mycroft makes himself scarce by pretending to be interested in what his colleagues have to say. That way, Sherlock gets to chatter on and on with Greg.
When John brings them to the surgery, Mycroft makes an excuse about how the smell makes him sick so he doesn’t spend a lot of time inside and lets Sherlock hog John for himself.
Mycroft doesn’t like being alone but he consoles himself with the fact that Sherlock has two loving grown-ups to take care of him now. Sherlock will do better if John and Greg can focus all their attention on him alone.
This is what he’s thinking when the tall man comes up to him and tells him that Greg is a little busy and wants him to go back to the flat first. He supposes that Greg wants to spend more time with Sherlock so he obediently gets in the car with the tall man.
It’s only about twenty minutes later that he realizes that they’re not going to the flat because they passed the flower shop and they never pass the flower shop unless they’re going back to the big house.
“Where are we going?” Mycroft asks. The tall man gives him a smile that doesn’t look very nice.
“The flat.” He says.
“You passed the flat.” Mycroft points out. This grown-up must not be very bright. He heard of grown-ups like that.
“Well, then. You’ll just have to wait and see.” The man sneers. Mycroft is scared. Maybe, he’s being kidnapped, like in those books that Penny used to lend him. He doesn’t like not knowing where he’s going and he doesn’t like the man anymore.
Mycroft is dragged out of the car and pushed into a small shed. It’s bare except for the table and some old gardening tools. The man pulls out his telephone and sends a text message. Mycroft contemplates using the rake to hit the man like they do on Saturday morning cartoons but he deduces that it’s too heavy for him to lift on such a whim.
“Your daddy will want you back.” The man says, breathing heavily. “He’ll definitely let my pal go.” He continues.
Mycroft wants to point out that he’s not getting adopted by Greg but he’s scared that if he does, they’ll kidnap Sherlock instead. He keeps quiet.
“You’re mean.” He informs the man, trying not to let him see that Mycroft is scared. The man scowls and pokes Mycroft.
“You. Shut up and stay put.” The man snarls and he’s gone. The door is locked.
Mycroft has no doubt that someone will find him eventually. Grown-ups might be a little slow but they always make it better in the end. Or at least, they do in the story-books. Mycroft decides that even if they don’t come to find him, he’ll have to try to go find a grown-up.
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“You want proof, here’s proof!” The man comes in snarling. He grabs Mycroft by the wrist and shoves him to the floor. Mycroft curls up on instinct just in time for him to defend his ribs against the rough kick. He cries out in pain because his arms take the brunt of it instead.
“Tell him!” The man shoves the phone in his face. Mycroft glares at him with all the hatred a soon to be 8 year old can muster.
“Taller than Greg! Dark! Cigarettes! Mud! Water Damage!” He shouts to the phone, hoping that Greg will get the hint. The man snatches back the phone before Mycroft can say anymore but Mycroft keeps shouting anyway.
“Past the flat! Not a house!” Mycroft keeps rattling off all that he can remember. The man shut him up by kicking him again. This time, Mycroft doesn’t manage to defend himself and he hears something in his arm snap.
Mycroft doesn’t cry, not even when the man leaves him alone in the dark and he can hear animals outside. He’s terrified but he doesn’t cry because it wouldn’t really help and would only tire him out.
The man left him a piece of bread and half a bottle of water. Mycroft eats half the bread and drinks only a few sips. He’s scared that the man won’t come back. His arm hurts and it’s dark so he curls up in the warmest corner and tries to sleep.
It’s daylight when Mycroft wakes up. There’s a new piece of bread. Mycroft eats half of that too. He feels scummy all over cause he’s got dirt on his clothes and he doesn’t have a toothbrush to brush his teeth. His arms really, really hurts now and he’s scared.
Mycroft is scared that Greg isn’t coming to get him because Greg and John only want to adopt Sherlock. He’s scared that he won’t ever be able to write cause his arm really hurts. He’s scared that he’ll never get to go to primary school again if the man keeps him here. He’s scared that he’s never going to be able to see Sherlock again. At least, if John and Greg didn’t adopt him, he could still ask to visit sometimes.
Mycroft stays in his corner, feeling sorry for himself until the sun is well up. Then he drags himself over to the hole and continues to scrabble away with his tiny fingers. Progress is much slower but he doesn’t stop.
He doesn’t stop until he falls asleep by the tiny hole, scarcely having made any progress, with a piece of dirty bread beside his head and his broken arm cradled to his chest.
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“He’s coming around!” Greg shouts. John literally shoves him out of the way and then carefully picks Mycroft up. Mycroft is hurting, hungry and scared so he smacks John in the face out of panic. John doesn’t seem to realize he’s been smacked because he holds on tight and hugs Mycroft close.
“Oh thank God!” John and Greg exclaim at almost the same time when Mycroft struggles weakly.
“Is Sherlock here?” Mycroft asks, worried that Sherlock is left alone without a grown-up to take care of him.
“Sherlock’s having tea with Mrs. Hudson.” Greg soothes him as they lift him off the dirt floor and carry him to the ambulance. The paramedics are bustling about, fetching blankets and what not. John and Greg both get in the back of the ambulance and sit with Mycroft as they are sent off to the hospital.
Mycroft is quiet the entire time. John and Greg seem to be communicating with their eyes only and they look as if they want to hug-and-cuddle each other but don’t so he keeps quiet.
It’s only at the hospital after a nice young lady sets Mycroft’s arm and puts it in a cast that John speaks up again.
“I’m glad you’re okay.” He says and leans in to hug-and-cuddle Mycroft. Mycroft leans away cause he hasn’t had the rest of him washed yet and he’s pretty much sure he smells of dog poo.
“What happened?” Greg asks as they wheel him in his comfy wheelchair to the toilet where they give him a bath. Mycroft is embarrassed cause he hasn’t need anyone to bathe him since he was five and learned how to turn the dials.
“He said that you wanted me to go to the flat first.” Mycroft said honestly. “You were busy looking after Sherlock anyway so I went.”
Mycroft looks down. He should have known better than to follow a stranger.
“I’m sorry.” He tells John and Greg. Neither look very angry with him but he supposes that they’re only relieved that they aren’t adopting him after all.
He’s bundled into a huge bed with pristine white covers and he falls asleep almost immediately. Mycroft remembers John and Greg both ruffling his hair as he drifts off. It makes him feel a little better.
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“I thought you went way!” Sherlock wails when he sees that Mycroft is awake. “Went way and left me alone!” He sobs.
Mycroft sighs, there’s no better time than to explain to Sherlock what’s going to happen soon. After all, Sherlock is turning three soon and he’s getting old enough to understand a lot of things.
“Sherlock, I’m going to go way soon.” He says seriously. Sherlock seems stunned into silence. His lower lips wobbles and he looks ready to howl.
“Not far far way. I’ll have to live in the house and you’ll live with John and Greg, alright?” Mycroft explains quickly before Sherlock can start afresh.
“Why?” Sherlock demands. “I want Mycwoft stay with John and Greg too!” He declares, folding his arms.
“John and Greg are going to spend all their time with you, Sherlock! Don’t you want that?” Mycroft attempts to reason with him but Sherlock is stubborn.
“No. I want to stay with Mycwoft. Fowevew.” Sherlock says. “Mycwoft is going to stay with John and Gweg too!” He insists. Mycroft sighs.
“I’m not.” He says gently.
“Actually, he’s right.” John says from out of the blue. He pushes aside the curtains and enters the tiny ward.
“Though, I would really like to know why you would think you’re not.” Greg says as he enters the ward behind John.
Mycroft is surprised.
“But… I heard you say that I didn’t need to take care of Sherlock anymore!” He says, puzzled and confused. “The only way that I didn’t need to take care of Sherlock anymore is if I can’t take care of him and the only reason I can’t take care of Sherlock is because I’m not living with Sherlock anymore.” Mycroft reasons.
John and Greg look at each other and sigh. John makes Sherlock scoot on over so that he can perch on the edge of the bed and gently touch Mycroft’s good hand.
“We didn’t mean it that way.” He says quietly.
“We meant that you wouldn’t need to do all the things that adults are supposed to do for their children.” John continues.
“Like feeding Sherlock, bathing him, taking care of all his injuries, rocking him to sleep, distracting him when he’s upset.” Greg interjects. “These are things that grown-ups do for kids, not kids for other kids.”
Mycroft still feels puzzled.
“So I can stay with Sherlock?” He asks, not daring to hope.
John and Greg smile, tears in their eyes.
“Oh Mycroft, we already signed the paperwork that says so.” John tells him.
Mycroft can’t help it. He cries.
The move takes two whole weeks. John and Greg help Mycroft and Sherlock pack up all their toys and clothes from their old house. They spend quite some time deciding what they want to take and what they want to give away or sell.
It takes two whole weeks and during that time, Mycroft and Sherlock sleep in the smaller bedroom. It’s not as big as their first one with Mummy and Father but it smells of milk-and-tea (cause Sherlock spilled it on the carpet) and feels like hug-and-cuddles even when they’re not getting one.
It’s on the last day when Greg puts the last box on the floor and Sherlock declares that it’s ‘offcwal’ that they all gather in the living room for a hug-and-cuddle.
Mycroft doesn’t cry, not even from happiness.
This time, he beams.
A/N: There are a coupla plotholes. Please forgive. This is unbeta'ed it's the middle of the night and I'm just glad I ended on 9, not a weird number like 11 or 13. 9 is good. 9 is a square.
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I love it. It makes perfect sense for him to act like a tiny adult in this context- and it's written so sweetly. I especially love how Mycroft has child!logic. It's goddamn adorable.
I really, really enjoyed this.
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This was lovely! Well done!
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