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

Title: Nightmares

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

A/N: I am new to this forum and not really familiar with the format so please bear with me. This story is also posted on fanfiction.net. Enjoy.
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Nightmares



Mycroft jerked awake as he heard sobbing in the room next to his. The nursery, 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 mightmares had been, coupled with another cry, this one louder than its 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 to let his eyes adjust to the darkness.

When they did, Mycroft picked his way around parts of 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 touched Sherlock's shoulder and whispered, "Sherlock."

The boy stirred, but didn't awaken. Mycroft said his na,e 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 eyes and turned his head to looke 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 filtering throught the window, Mycroft saw him point to a vauge, shapeless shadow. "That was after me."

Mycroft stood and touched the shadow. "A coat?" He looked skeptically at his brother. He knew that Sherlock knew that this was a coat.

Mycroft sat next to his brother again and said quietly, "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 or know how to control this constant influx of information.

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

Mycroft hugged his brother closer to himself. He knew what Sherlock wa going through. He had been there himself, but, unlike Sherlock, Mycroft didn't truly have anybody to tech him, show him how to turn this constant vision of images and sound, always blending together as if they were one, off.

"It's alright, Sherlock. I'll help you understand. The bad dreams will go away," Mycroft whispered.

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

"Sherlock, I wish you would reconsider."

"Mycroft, you know as well as I, that if I don't leave for the Continent, you will never again get 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 a 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

 

Thank you so much!

 

I enjoyed that very much.

I always thought that there should be more of Sherlock's and Mycroft's relationship in all kinds of fiction.

 

Thanks guys!