Chapter Text
William is excited to take his treasure to school for show and tell. The little cube of pyrite looked like pirate treasure. It’s his most prized possession even if it isn’t real pirate treasure. He’ll find his own treasure when he becomes a famous pirate, he just knows it in his heart.
Mycroft is surprised when William rushes off his bus and runs past him into the house. Usually his younger brother won’t stop talking about his day and all he learned. Going up to William’s room, he finds him tucked into his window seat, silent sobs shaking his body. Sitting down, he gently puts his hand on a thin shoulder. “What’s wrong, Brother mine?”
William turns his tear streaked face to him. “They….they took it! It’s gone! And and…”
Mycroft reaches for a tissue off the bed stand and wipes Williams face. “Calm down, William, tell me what happened to make you so upset. Who took what?”
After a moment or two, William gets his sobbing under control. He sniffs once, “Jim and Sebestin, they took my treasure. They said being a pirate was stupid, that I was stupid. When I tried to get it back from Jim, Sebastian pushed me. Mr. Magnussen came over to see what was going on but he didn’t believe me, he believed them. When he left, Jim told me to never snitch on them again, and Sebastian pushed me down. They left and took my treasure, Mycie. I’ll never get it back.” Fresh tears started running down his face.
Mycroft hugged his brother, “Don’t get attached to objects William. Then it won’t hurt when you lose them.” William nodded his head in understanding. It was a lesson he wouldn’t forget.
****
William slammed into the house expecting no one to be home. Mycroft is off to uni; Mummy and Daddy are who knows where. He practically jumps out of his skin when he hears “That is no way to enter our home.”
“Shut up Mycroft, why are you here anyway.”
“Long weekend, you probably don’t remember.”
Truth be told, He did forget but he wasn’t going to give Mycroft the satisfaction of saying so. “No, I just deleted it because it didn’t matter.”
Mycroft is ready to come back with his own sarcastic comment. All they do is throw verbal daggers at each other anymore. He stops though as he observes his brother. There’s specks of dirt on his trousers, a small amount of blood in the corner of his mouth, bits of gravel on the heel of his palm, and, most noticeably, his red rimmed eyes. He sighs deeply, “Caring is not an advantage, William.”
“Don’t call me that! Never call me that! I’m Sherlock, not…” he can’t bring himself to say it and repeats” I’m Sherlock” .
“What happened, Brother Mine.”
And Sherlock deflates, he slumps into a chair, puts his head into his hands. “I thought he loved me. He said he loved me. He wasn’t out yet so in public, we were friends. But when we were alone, he was sweet. He told me he loved me, that I was his heart and he was my heart. The way he said my name…I was stupid enough to believe him.” He’s silent for a minute, and Mycroft can figure out what happened but waits for Will…Sherlock to finish.
“We were behind the tool shed. We’ve never saw anyone else back there. It was our place. Today…Today we were there. I had him against the wall and we were kissing. He was holding my lapels so tightly. Suddenly he pushed me away and he….he hit me. I fell to the ground to see that Jim and Sebastian were there.. ‘STAY AWAY FROM ME YOU FREAK!’ he yelled at me. ‘BLOODY POOF’ Sebastian added as he kicked me. ‘BYE WILLIAM’ Jim singsong as they left, leaving me in the dirt. “Try to be nice to him and he thinks I want him to kiss me. So gross.’ He actually said that.” Sherlock's voice had gone quieter as he told his story until Mycroft could barely hear him.
Mycroft is furious, they will not get away with treating his little brother this way. But first things first. “People are not worth your heart, Sherlock. Keep it closed to them and no one will have the power to hurt you.” Sherlock raises his head to look at Mycroft and nod in understanding.
****
Logic and facts are all that matters; are all he needs. The cases keep him away from the drugs. The puzzle and his experiments keep his mind from destroying itself. Sentiment, emotions, love are not wanted or needed to live his life. He learned that long ago. No, Sherlock didn’t need to open his heart to anything or anyone.
But life had another lesson to teach him. A lesson in the form of a retired military doctor. From “Here, use mine,” to a perfect shot fired through a window that saved his life. Sherlock is explaining to Lestrade what they do know of the shooter. As he looks across the parking lot, he sees him there; standing in the flashing lights, waiting at parade rest. John H. Watson, Right then, at that moment, he felt his heart open again and it takes his breath away.