Sherlock- age 0

"Myc?" A woman called out softly, seeing the little 7-year-old poking his head around the wall.

"Yes mummy?" Mycroft asked, stepping out from his poor hiding place. She gave him a warm smile as only a mother could.

"Come and meet your new baby brother." She may have said it sweetly, but no one in the room would doubt that he had no say in the matter. Yet it was obvious he would have come anyways, given the curious glint that was in his eyes. So, he slowly approached his mother as she looked at this baby like it was the most precious thing in the world. The way Mycroft knew she used to look at him.

The folds of the blanket kept him from observing from afar, but now Myc could get a proper look at this new child in his mothers' arms. The baby had a tiny bit of curly black hair atop his head, and his blue eyes held a curious glint that could rival Mycroft's own.

"What do you think?" She asked, smiling down at her first born. Mycroft thought carefully about that. He had planned on hating this kid. After all, Mycroft didn't see why they needed another child when he was perfectly fine on his own. Still, even he had to admit it got rather lonely all by himself. Perhaps this baby wouldn't be so bad after all. So far it wasn't doing any of that useless crying he despised so much.

"He's wonderful." He said, if only to please mummy. This did the trick though, as her face beamed with pride at both of her sons. "What's his name?"

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes." His father said proudly, speaking for the first time since Mycroft entered the room. He laid a comforting hand on his wife's shoulder, and she looked up at him happily before the two shared a quick kiss. Mycroft diverted his eyes, not enjoying displays of affection.

Then Mrs. Holmes looked back at the newborn, nearly tearing up with happiness. "My sweet Sherlock." Mycroft fought hard to keep from making a face. To him, 'My little Mikey' was a better title, but he supposed Sherlock had to get something.

"I thought we agreed to call him William." Mr. Holmes said quietly. He was still smiling, but it seemed sort of forced.

"Do you really want to do this now?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him before glancing at her two children. He shook his head.

"Of course not, darling." He put another reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You're absolutely right." Yet he looked like he still disagreed. Mycroft sighed. Mummy and daddy had been stressed for a while now like this.