Chapter Text
"Mummy, I’m not a baby, therefore I’m sure I don’t actually need a babysitter. Come on, I’m almost 14, I can take care of myself for one evening.“ Sherlock is pouting while saying this. It’s not really helping his case.
“You’re 13 and 2 months, darling. That’s far from 14. And you’re getting a sitter because you messed up the last chance you got. Always experimenting with that big, brilliant brain of yours.” She messes up his hair fondly. “We’re very proud of you, you know this, but you’re just not taking care of yourself while we’re out. We just want you to be safe, that’s why we asked John to come and keep an eye on you. It’s not a punishment, darling, you did nothing wrong, so please don’t see it as one.” She turned around and started leaving his bedroom.
“Why can’t Mycroft come home and stay with me?” Sherlock inquired. His mother turned around right before she went out of sight.
“Darling, you know he’s at uni, it’s the middle of the week, he can’t just come home and drop everything just because you need a babysitter. You’ll see him on Friday. And in the meantime, you’ll have to do with John.”
“John, who he?” Sherlock asked.
His mother stood there, in the door opening, the light form the hallway shining around her head like a halo. “Oh, you know him, Sherlock, he’s Harry’s brother.”
Sherlock knitted his eyebrows together. “Harry, who he?”
“She, darling, Harry’s short for Harriet. Come on, you know them, John and Harriet Watson? You used to run around naked in their garden,” she smiled fondly at the memory.
“I did what”? Sherlock is digging in his memories trying to find the one where he’s apparently naked in someone else’s garden. He seriously can’t remember such an awful thing happening.
“Oh, honey, don’t look so shocked, it was ages ago, you were three years old. They had a nice little garden with a little swimming pond. You absolutely loved it. Oh hold on, I think I have a picture somewhere of the three of you. Come on, let’s go look for it downstairs while we wait for John.”
Sherlock threw the blankets off him. He had crawled under them out of anger when he found out his parents got him a sitter, ready to for one of his famous sulk episodes. He crossed his room, walked through the hallway and caught up with his mother halfway down the stairs.
“I still can’t recall any of this. Why was I naked? And where do we know the Watson’s from? And where did they live, here in town? Did we get along well? Were we friends? Mummy?”
Sherlock’s was begging for some answers. He couldn’t quite believe he actually had friends once.
“Slow down, darling. You guys got along just fine, Harriet and John were the nicest kids, and John still is. He’s turned into a lovely and handsome young man. I bumped into him at Mrs Hudson’s bakery the other day. Turns out he moved back to the neighbourhood and started working there about two weeks ago.” They entered the living room. She picked a photo album from the bookcase and sat down on one of the couches. Sherlock sat down next to her, so close that his mother lifted up her arm so Sherlock could crawl under it. His mother tucked her arm around him and put the photo album on both their legs.
“Let’s see, I think it’s in here.” She started flipping through the pages and Sherlock saw plenty pictures of him as a small boy, and of Mycroft in his teens. He saw pictures of them as a family and pictures of just his parents with some friends. Some of the pictures he had never seen before, some of them were printed out on a bigger scale and were now scattered around the house, hanging on the walls or standing on furniture.
“Ah, here it is.” His mother said. “Look at you, you were so adorable. And your hair,… , always a mess, even more so back then.”
Sherlock directed his eyes at the picture his mother was pointing at. Yup, that was definitely him. So naked, butt-naked, wearing absolutely nothing, not even a tiny pair of undies, or some swimming trunks, no t-shirt, no hat, no shoes, nothing whatsoever. Good thing he was just a toddler, there wasn’t really anything to look at back then, but still, it’s quite embarrassing. In the picture he’s looking up to the kid on his right, who’s a considering amount taller than he is.
“Oh and look at John, such a cute kid”.
Sherlock did as she said, and looked about 3cm to the right of his tiny self. Blond hair, eyes squinted shut, small nose, big smile, suntanned naked torso, black and white striped swimming trunks and bare feet. Sherlock guessed John was about 7 years old in the picture. His left arm was casually draped around a small girl’s shoulders. Sherlock guessed that was Harriet. She had the same features as John, same blond hair, though a bit longer, cute nose, big smile and quite suntanned as well, clearly brother and sister. She was wearing a pink bathing suit and some pink slippers.
“And that’s Harriet.” Ok, that confirmed Sherlock’s suspicions.
“I heard she’s also growing into a wonderful young woman. Look at her, how adorable, and John, so fond of her.”
Sherlock had seen enough of the three of them and started to scan for any clues of recognition in the background. Why couldn’t he remember any of this? The three of them were standing in front of the pond his mother was talking about, it was small indeed and the garden itself did not seem like it was very big. Sherlock thought they mustn’t have been very rich then. The garden was well maintained, though, so one of their parents must’ve loved gardening, as they wouldn’t have enough money to hire a gardener. Sherlock looked at the flowerbeds at the side of the picture and could just recognize a watering can and some pink plastic gloves. Ah, their mother then. Sherlock then looked at the description under the photo.
“Watson’s garden, September 1997, Harriet – John – Sherlock”
So he was three and a half years old back then. “Where’s Mycroft?” Sherlock asked, “Wasn’t he there with us?”
“He took the picture, darling, you really don’t remember? That’s odd.” Sherlock looked back at John’s and Harriet’s faces, trying to remember and recognize them, but to no avail.
“Mummy, can we tear this picture up, it’s really embarrassing.” Sherlock pleaded.
“Oh, shush darling, it’s adorable. I think I’ll show it to John when he gets here in a minute.” She closed the album and put in on table in front of them. She stood up and took Sherlock’s hand, come on darling, let me show you what I’ve set up for you two to eat.
She led him into the kitchen and opened the fridge. While she was taking something from the top shelf the doorbell rang.
“That’ll be him, go get the door, Sherlock.” Sherlock looked at her with shock in his eyes.
“No, mum, please”
“Sherlock, don’t start with me, go let John in.” Sherlock turned around and stormed out of the kitchen, stomping with his feet all the way across the hall. He opened the door quickly and looked right into the blue eyes of a surprised young man.
“You’re not very tall, we’re almost the same height.” Sherlock said. He turned his head towards the kitchen and yelled, “Mummy, seriously, I don’t need a sitter, definitely not one who’s as big as I am.”
“SHERLOCK!” came a warning shout from the kitchen.
He turned around again and squinted his eyes, looking over his so-called babysitter. He could easily recognise him from the picture; blond hair, cute nose and golden suntanned skin. He was wearing blue all-stars, some jeans, and a burgundy hoodie. Although John should be offended by Sherlock’s comment, he was actually smiling now. Sherlock could see white teeth peaking through his lips, forming a very contagious smile. He was quite taken aback by it. Eventually he stepped aside and said “Well, come in then.”
John, still looking quite surprised but also having an amused smirk on his lips stepped over the threshold and passed Sherlock. At that moment his mother came out of the kitchen saying quite agitated, “What’s taking you so long?”
She caught sight of John and the expression on her face changed. “John, darling, I’m so glad you were able to help us out. Come in, come in! Oh, look at you, you’re so handsome.” Then she turned to her son. ”Sherlock, stop staring and close that door, please.” She turned back to their guest. ”Come John, come with me.”
John followed Mrs Holmes into the kitchen. Sherlock lingered in the hall for a bit longer and heard his mother talking to John.
“Have you eaten, John, because I prepared some dinner for the two of you, you do like spaghetti, right? I was worried you’d grow hungry when we’d be out all night. Anyway, just pop it into the microwave for a few minutes if you want some. Now, that son of mine has to eat” She’s looking at Sherlock now, who’s still standing near the kitchen door. ”Even if he says he’s not hungry, don’t let him fool you ‘cause he’s very convincing, but he hasn’t eaten yet so just make sure he eats some.” Sherlock rolled his eyes at that. Why is that so important to his mother, he’s healthy, that should be most important, right? John caught him rolling his eyes and winked at him. Sherlock felt his cheeks warm up, why was he blushing right now? Good thing John was focusing on his mother again so no one was actually paying any attention to him.
“Ok, John, there’s some healthy snack in the fridge or some not-so-healthy snack in that cupboard over there. If you’d like some tee or coffee just ask Sherlock he knows where everything is and know how to work the machines. Would you like something right now, honey?”
“Some tea would be lovely actually” John said.
“Ok, Sherlock, you heard him, get on that. I’ll go upstairs to get myself and your father ready.” She started walking in the direction of the staircase but stopped right in front of Sherlock, just in front of the door.
“Sherlock, darling, did you hear him, he’d like some tea.” Sherlock did actually hear him, but he was more so listening to the sound of his voice than to the message it was giving. His voice was lovely, low, soft and sweet, and did he hear a light Scottish accent in there? He shook his head as to wake himself up.
“Huh?”
Sherlock’s mother was still looking at him, a bit confused but amused at the same time. “Tea, darling, for John.”
“Oh, sure, yeah, no problem, yeah, sorry, daydreaming, I guess … ”.
“Come John, let me show you the living room, real quick” His mother said, and they disappeared into the adjacent room. Sherlock started moving toward the other end of the kitchen to start with the tea. A few minute later, when he was pouring the tea into the cups he heard some shuffling behind him, probably his mother who needed something from the kitchen. He didn't turn around.
He was putting the cups on their saucers and onto a little tray, along with some cookies, when he heard a gasp behind him, immediately followed by: “Oh my god, you’re so cute.” Sherlock was stunned. That was not his mother’s voice, nor his father’s. It was John’s. Why would he say that? He opened his mouth to retort but nothing came out. He managed to choke out one word “What?” and spun around. John was sitting on a stool, looking down, hunched over the worktable in the middle of the kitchen, with the photo album in his hands.
John went on without looking up. “You, here, this photo, you’re adorable, look at your skinny legs and arms. You were so thin, I was always afraid to hurt you when we were playing in the pond. You always looked so frail and breakable.” Sherlock stepped closer to John and the photo album, tea and tray forgotten behind him.
“You remember that?” Sherlock asked.
“Of course I do, we always had a blast, the four of us. You don’t remember?” “No, mummy just showed me the picture, I don’t remember a thing.” John feigned shock and gasped. “What, not even me?” Sherlock looked up at his face. His eyes were big and his eyebrows nearly touched his hairline.
“No, not at all, and it’s unnerving. I should remember, I remember lots of things from when I was that age.” He looked down at the picture again, trying to recall something while looking at the younger version of John. He looked back up at the older John.
“You haven’t changed a bit, I don’t even think you’ve grown that much.”
“Hey now, will you shut up about my height please, that’s a sensitive subject. And anyway, you’re one to talk, looks like you haven’t gained a pound, skinny git.”
Sherlock laughed, squeezing his eyes shut, when he opened them he saw that John wasn’t actually mad and was actually chuckling along with him. Already Sherlock wasn’t mad at his mother anymore for getting him a babysitter. Sherlock felt comfortable around him, he really didn’t have a clue why. Maybe it was John’s easy-going attitude, his friendly face or just the fact that John actually knew him as a person, even if that was a decade ago. Something fit and Sherlock relaxed, his laugh easing into a big smile.
“What are you boys laughing about in here?” His mother entered back into the kitchen wearing a beautiful dark purple gown, two steps behind her was her husband, looking equally dashing in a black penguin suit with white shirt and white bowtie.
“Wow, you two look spectacular.” John uttered.
“John, sweetheart, how nice of you to say. Has Sherlock made you your tea yet?” She questioned, looking at the empty space at the worktop in front of John and Sherlock. Sherlock shot up of the stool he was sitting on and rushed to where he was before John walked in with the photo album.
“Sherlock, darling, I told you to make John some tea.”
John chuckled when he saw Sherlock in such distress. “It’s entirely my fault Mrs Holmes, I distracted him with that photo album. I can’t believe how much he’s grown, seriously though, I used to be so much taller, and look at us now.” Sherlock picked up the tray full of biscuits and tea and turned around to put it next to the photo album on the worktop.
“Finally” John said, but gave Sherlock a wink indicating he was only teasing.
“So where are you guys off to on this fine evening?” John asked.
“A fund raising event from my old college, they’re raising some money for the scholarships for next year, they’d like to have more students from different backgrounds, you see. That reminds me, dear, are you applying to any colleges? What would like to study?”
John turns read, looks from Sherlock to Mrs Holmes to Mr Holmes and then down again, at the picture. Everyone was looking at him and after a moment he muttered: “I’d like to go medical school, but I’m not sure I can pay for it, I’m very sure my mom can’t pay for it, so that’s why I started working all these odd jobs.”
“Oh honey, that’s great, you’d be a fantastic doctor… If I ever need some fixing around the house, I’ll call you first, deal?” John looked up when he noticed no one was laughing at them and everyone seemed to be on board with his plan.
“Oh, yeah, that’d be great, actually.” The smile on his face was huge now; showing off that entire row of perfect, white teeth again. Sherlock just stared at him, glad no one was really paying attention to him now.
“Actually John” Mr Holmes began ”were going to start remodelling the attic in a few weeks. If you want you can help us with that. It’ll probably be a lot of moving stuff around and lots of painting. Are you up for that?” Mr Holmes looked at John with a questioning face.
“That’d be brilliant!” John responded. “Yeah, I mean, yes, for sure. I’d love to.”
“Great, that’s a deal then, we’ll keep you informed. But right now, I think we have to go, love.” Mrs Holmes turned to her husband and knotted.
“Right, we’re off. Sherlock, darling, behave yourself.” She walked over to him and ruffled his hair before bending down and laying a kiss on top of his head.
“Mum, jeez!” She smiled fondly at him and moved on to John, pecking his cheek and whispering in his ear.
“I meant it, John, you’d be a brilliant doctor, don’t ever give up on your dream, ok?” She turned his face around, looking into his eyes. “Ok?” She asked again and didn’t move until she got a response from John. “Ok” He whispered back, moved by her kind words.
Mrs Holmes righted herself and spun around. “Right, I’m ready, let’s go.” She moved past her husband and out of the kitchen. Mr Holmes turned to follow her but shot a glance back at the two boys and said: “Sherlock, it’s a school night, so 11pm at the latest.” He turned around again and disappeared from view. 10 seconds later they heard Mrs Holmes yell “Have fun, boys!” right before the door slammed shut.
Now it was just him and John.