mayb u could draw eurus and sherlock hanging out? like pretending to be pirates together or something!! if u don't want that then maybe sherlock and john going to either hot topic, or claires, or spencers.
Siger, driving: So how was your day?
Kid Sherlock: We almost got surprise adopted!
Siger: What?
Teen Mycroft: We almost got kidnapped.
Siger: Oh, okay.
Siger: *Slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!
What if John and Sherlock met as kids? (short fluff)
No one in the Holmes household noticed when the young Sherlock Holmes went missing out the back gate, clutching nothing but a cleaned out empty jam jar in his hands, which were not yet big enough to fit all the way around.
His excellent plan (if he did say so himself) was to collect samples of local bugs and to examine the rate at which they would decompose. His new nanny (vegetarian, going off the hemp tote bag, and the small scrunched up expression she pulls as she makes his ham sandwiches) seemed completely opposed to the idea, so sneaking off was necessary.
Thankfully, there was plenty of data to find, with his house located on the edge of town with plenty of woodland area a short walk away (even when walking with child-sized legs). Speed however was imperative, he had approximately 25 minutes before the nanny realised it was not sherlock ‘playing’ with his microscope that she could see, peering into his room. But rather a stack of pillows wearing a jacket and a curly black costume wig, with a tape looping his voice including all of his latest deductions, of which he had recorded the day before.
When you are 9, any plan that takes more than one day of planning feels astronomically important, even for the mature William Sherlock Scott Holmes, and succeeding was paramount. Because of this, Sherlock was running fast as he could, nothing on his mind but finding soil damp enough for worms, and rocks large enough to cover up significant family of woodlice. Therefore, he wasn’t able to notice the tangle of his undone shoe laces, making the little boy fall rather quickly, not even able to catch himself as both small hands were occupied with the all-important jar for his specimens.
Now, those who knew Sherlock Holmes rarely saw the little boy cry, even at age 9 he had decided it was weak and unbecoming (subconsciously copying his stiff and repressed older brother), so he was immensely grateful that no one was there to see the large tears that forced themselves from his eyes, stinging the rather large graze he has gotten across his cheek.
“Hello”
The soft voice startled the tearful boy, and for a moment all he could do was stare. There in front of him stood a boy, maybe slightly older than himself dressed in jeans, a muddy blue and white rugby top and dirty shoes that were once white and pink, with black marker smudged over the pink in an attempt to cover it, if sherlock was not so destressed he would have deduced that he was a poor boy, wearing his older sister's hand-me-downs, and is embarrassed about it.
As Sherlock stared the boy got closer, choosing to sit with his legs crossed in front of him, pulling a crumpled packet of tissues out of his pocket, holding one out to Sherlock. This interaction snapped the crying boy out of his shock and he clambered to his feet, adamantly rubbing his tears away on his t shirt, feeling quite angry that this boy had walked in on his moment of weakness.
The boy did not appear to be judging Sherlock though, he was not laughing at him or smirking. Still, he had little trust for people his age, and did not like to risk being made a fool. So, he held his head high and walked past the boy, aware of the time he lost to his fall and the questions he would need to answer upon returning home.
“Wait!” the boy said, shocked at the cold reaction, and yet not deterred. No boy his age had ever acted like this boy, and the small John Watson knew he had to be his friend. Using all of his 10 years of knowledge in making friends, he decided the best course of action was to introduce himself.
“My name is John” he declared, walking quickly to fall into step with the dark-haired boy, and upon realised he was not getting an answer asked “what's your name?”
Now, weather John knew this or not he had just introduced Sherlock with a difficult question. At their age, insults were uncreative and simple, and yet one thing kids their age seemed to know was that Sherlock’s name was ‘weird’. He was therefore expecting the same reaction from this normal looking boy, and steeled himself as he plainly said “Sherlock Holmes”
Sherlock had avoided eye contact as he declared his name, but if he had been looking at John he would have seen the amazement on his face “Wow!” he exclaimed, grinning “you sound like you’re from a book!”
This was.... new for Sherlock, something almost like a compliment, before he could figure out how to respond, John took his silence as a sign to carry on.
“really, you should take the tissue, if you let that cut get dirty you could get an infection, your face would swell up and get all gross” he sounded perversely pleased as he said this, the same way many little boys did when mentioning something ‘icky’.
Sherlock was not one of those little boys and at the implication that his face could “get all gross” was not fun, and he promptly snatched the tissue that was still in johns fist and rubbed at the graze on his cheek.
“no! Not like that!” john said, sounding rather alarmed as he stole the tissue back and to sherlocks horror spat on it, rubbing it onto sherlocks face to get rid of the grime. John did not see an issue with this, he saw plenty of mothers outside the school gates licking at their thumbs to rub dirt from their children's cheeks, this was no different, and it couldn’t be dirty if mums did it.
“what on earth do you think you're doing?” Sherlock asked with horror at having a stranger's saliva on his face
“cleaning your cut, now stay still and stop talking like the queen” John said, with no malice, he had simply never heard anyone in real life talk the way Sherlock did, especially kids, and the queen was the poshest person he could think of.
Sherlock wanted to reply, but as John wiped his face with one hand and held his chin still with the other, he felt oddly little need to protest. He felt... cared for.
As John pulled away he smiled a big toothy grin at Sherlock, showing off a missing front tooth
“all better” he declared affectionately, stepping back “why were you running so fast with a jam jar anyways?”
Sherlock suddenly remembered his all-important task, and took off with a surprisingly serious expression for someone so young “I am looking for bugs, I want to keep them and then observe the rate at which they decompose”
Sherlock though this was bound to disgust his new companion, but was pleasantly surprised when the golden boy grinned and asked “can I help?”
Sherlock and Mycroft escalate hostilities against each other, and Mycroft fights the battle by making Sherlock’s childhood papers public. John sees the one about what young Sherlock wanted in a friend. It’s the mocked-up paper -- and the resulting Post-It notes additions -- that make this so special.
“Endangered Species” (1200 words, G) by KCScribbler
https://kcscribbler.livejournal.com/443696.html
But I think that as a child Sherlock was also the kid that developed too early and was booed and hated on by the other kids and not only as a child but remember in The Blind Banker (1x02) the bank owner or whatever was a total fricking asshole and calls Sherlock in for a favour and then proceeds to harass him about his behaviour during University.
Like he was only trying to make friends.
And that also leads me to ask the question, why did Sherlock go there? He went there in hopes of not a case but maybe, just maybe, getting a friend
I get so many feels about Sherlock and I watched it nearly two years ago.
Where somehow adult Seb adopted baby/kid Sherlock and raised him but her kid sherlock was literally the devil. A very adorable manipulative, evil devil.
I miss kid sherlock though and I'm curious to see how someone else would play him.
