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Discussion [Sherlock Holmes- books] Title: "Nightmares" One- shot Genres: Family/ Hurt/ Comfort

Discussion in 'Non Star Wars Fan Fiction' started by Moonspun Dragon, Apr 6, 2011.

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  1. Moonspun Dragon

    Moonspun Dragon Force Ghost star 5

    Registered:
    Apr 6, 2011
    Title: "Nightmares

    Summary : This is the original summary off fanfiction.net. "This is for a Skyfire challenge Child!Sherlock. I don't really have a summary please read!"

    A/N: I'm new here and I don't really know the format so please bear with me. I had, obviously, already posted this on fanfiction.net. This is one of my better fics. Enjoy! :D




    Nightmares



    Mycroft jerked awake as he heard sobbing in the room next to his. The nersury, where his five- year- old brother slept. Mycroft closed his eyes, half- hoping his brother would go back to sleep, but the memory of how horrible his own nightmares have been, coupled with another cry, this one louder than it's predecessors, shattered his hopes.

    With a sigh, Mycroft heaved himself out of bed, grabbed his dressing gown, and went next door to his brother. He opened the door to the nursery and stood in the doorway, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

    When they did, Mycroft picked his way around random items Sherlock had pulled apart to investigate how they worked. He reached Sherlock's bed, without tripping over anything, as the little boy whimpered again.

    Mycroft reached out and touched SHerlock's shoulder and whispered, "Sherlock."

    The boy stirred, but didn't awaken. Mycroft said his name again and gave his shoulder a little shake.

    Sherlock shot upright, his mouth open to scream, but Mycroft quickly planted his hand over Sherlock's mouth.

    "Sherlock," Mycroft hissed.

    The five- year- old blinked his terror filled and turned his head around to look at his brother. "Myc'oft?"

    Mycroft sat on the edge of the bed. "Yes."

    The boy visibly relaxed and Mycroft put an arm around the child's shoulders. They were silent for a few minutes, until Mycroft asked, "What was your dream about?"

    Sherlock shifted and, by the moon's light, Mycroft saw him point at a vague shapeless shadow. "That was after me."

    Mycroft stood and touched the shadow. "A coat?" he looked at his brother skeptically. He knew that Sherlock knew that this was a coat. Something else had scared him.

    Mycroft sat next to his brother again and said, "You knew that was a coat. What was your dream really about?"

    There was a flash of uncertainty in Sherlock's grey eyes and Mycroft knew. Sherlock was terrified of all this overwhelming data he sees on a daily basis. The child doesn't understand and know how to control thia constant influx of information.

    As the child sleeps, his brain pieces together the information, subconciously, what he had seen that day. At night, his brain gives him a mental, visual report.

    Mycroft hugged his brother closer to himself. He knew what Sherlock was going through. He had been there himself, but, unlike Sherlock, Mycroft didn't truly have anybody to teach him, show him how to turn off this constant vision of images and sounds that melted into each other as one, off.

    "It's alright, Sherlock. I'll help you understand. You are smart for your age. The bad dreams will go away," Mycroft whispered.

    Sherlock shifted so he could return his brother's hug. The little boy soon found himself falling asleep. He didn't fight it, this time, he knew his big brother will protect him and watch out for him as he slept.
    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
    The year 1891

    "Sherlock, I wish you would reconsider!"

    "Mycroft, you know as well as I, that if I don't go to the Continent, you will never againhave the chance to capture Moriarty."

    Mycroft sighed as he watched his brother pace up and down his living room. He did know that. He, also, was afraid the price for Moriarty captured or dead will be too high a price. The only price his brain could think of was his own brother's death.

    Sherlock paused in his pacing and looked at Mycroft. He guessed what his brother was thinking about. "Mycroft, I am not planning to die, but here are all my
     
  2. Ubersue

    Ubersue Jedi Youngling star 3

    Registered:
    Sep 1, 2008
    Welcome to the boards, MoonspunDragon!

    Just as a head's up, please post your non-Star Wars fics here:

    Non SW Fan Fiction

    The Well of Lost Plots is for discussion only.

    That said, I like what you've done here with this one-shot. You've captured the moods-- the creepiness of a child's nightmare, the attempt at using reason to break that fear, and the comfort of having someone you love to protect you-- very well. Nicely done.
     
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