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Sherlock wasn’t afraid of anything because being afraid of things was silly. There were no such things as monsters under his bed or in his closet and even the scary films Mycroft occasionally let him watch weren’t that terrifying. Not when Mycroft always ruined it by explaining every way they didn’t make sense.
Still, lightening was a real thing and a very unpleasant real thing at that. There was no real logic to it and it was always followed by very noisey thunder and in the middle of the night, Sherlock didn’t like noisy things. They kept him from sleeping and terrified his teddy bear hostage, Bear. And that was his real concern, that his hostage would be horribly upset. So, after great thought and a particularly blinding flash of lightening, he grabbed the teddy bear and his treasure chest before leaving his room for a midnight negotiation with his archenemy.
Looking around the darkened hallway, he frowned to himself as he made his way to the Admiral’s bedroom. Something about the night time made the pictures on the wall seem particularly disturbing and while Mycroft said there was nothing to fear from them, Sherlock still didn’t care for the way a few of them seemed to watch him. Things watching him in the darkness wasn’t a pleasant sensation for the eight year old.
It was with a quickened pace that he made his way to the bedroom of the Admiral, slipping in without knocking in order to escape the watchful eyes of those pictures. Not that the Admiral’s room was ever much safer for him, but Sherlock knew that lightening, thunder and even the odd noises in the dark didn’t dare enforce their evil will in the quarters of his older brother. So, if escaping them meant sharing a bed with his enemy, well, he was perfectly willing to accept that.
Pulling his treasure chest over to Mycroft’s bed, he hopped onto it and stared at his sleeping brother before shaking him as roughly as he could manage. It was with a groan and a yawn that Mycroft cracked open one tired eyed, shutting almost immediately as the storm outside continued on.
“Why are you in my bed?” Mycroft questioned grumpily.
Holding out Bear, Sherlock glanced nervously at the window as he told him, “The hostage got scared and wanted to be returned.”
“Put him down and leave then.”
“No. I… He… I think he sabotaged my quarters, but I can’t check until morning, so he’s still my hostage til then,” Sherlock said, shifting nervously as he kept a tight grip on Bear’s arm.
Nodding, Mycroft rubbed at his eyes tiredly before looking Sherlock over. “Was there a leak in your ship?”
“No! That doesn’t happen any more,” Sherlock nearly shouted, face heating up at his brother’s implication. Taking a deep breath, he turned his attention toward his treasure chest on the floor. Riffling through it, he pulled out three Cadbury eggs and a cookie he had stolen from the kitchen the morning before. “Here. Take these.”
“Giving me a hostage and treasure?” Mycroft questioned as he took one of the eggs. Unwrapping it, he ate it without hesitation before sitting up in his bed, a great deal more alert. “So you’re bribing me to stay in my quarters and willing to negotiate the return of the hostage.”
“Yes, but in the morning. You can’t negotiate at night.”
“True. Although, how do I know this isn’t a trick? What did the hostage do to your ship?”
Opening his mouth to reply, Sherlock let out a small shriek when the loud, rumbling noise of thunder seemed to fill every corner of the room. Clutching Bear to his chest, he shook his head violently and told Mycroft, “It doesn’t matter. Just… I don’t…”
“Ah. Right. The storm,” Mycroft said, nodding to himself. Taking the rest of his bribe from Sherlock, he placed it on his night stand before pulling Sherlock closer to him. Wrapping his blanket around his younger brother, he let out a heavy sigh. “I suppose it would be in poor taste to send you back to a ship caught in the middle of storm. You might drown and then I would lose Bear and the pirate captain. No, I think it’s best you stay here.”
“You can’t keep me here forever,” Sherlock grumbled, curling up against his brother’s side.
“Lies. In the morning I shall present you to the Queen to have her deal with you.”
“I’ll be gone by then,” he muttered as haughtily as he could muster.
Instead of responding. Mycroft simply kissed the top of his head and closed his eyes. Doing the same, Sherlock tried to block out the worst of the storm that seemed rather unending. He held Bear tight against his chest while Mycroft kept a heavy arm around his waist, protecting him from the awfulness of the world right outside his bedroom.
In the morning, he would go back on his word and leave with the hostage and perhaps his remaining two eggs. The cookie, however, he’d let the foolish Admiral have because he didn’t really like chocolate chip cookies once they got all hard. The fact that the Admiral had been nice enough to share his quarters once again had very little to do with it.
After all, it wasn't as though he was scared of anything. There were no monsters that lurked in the dark and horror movies were always wrong, according to the older boy holding him. Even storms weren't so bad, really. Sherlock simply didn't like loud noise keeping him awake at night or flashing lights and with his face pressed against his brother's chest, it was hard to notice either of those pesky little things.