Sherlock Holmes, aged five, practically skipped into his living room, hugging his older brother's video camera to his chest. He smirked to himself as he turned the device on and pointed it in front of him. After a moment, the camera panned around the room, displaying an ornate Christmas tree, stacks of brightly wrapped presents, and colored tinsel, wrapped around the four, large columns at the far side of the room.

"This is my living room. I like it in here because its bright and colorful. Tomorrow morning, we get to open these!" A small voice piped, zooming in on the gifts. "Mycroft likes to eat the candy canes, but I caught him. It was simple because he left footprints in the carpet." The camera tilted down, showing small toes, wiggling in thick, plush carpet. "My name is Sherlock and its gonna be Christmas tomm-" he was cut off by a shout from behind the shot.
"SHERLOCK! I told you not to touch that! It's not for /children/." The camera whipped around, displaying a tall, slightly chubby teenage with fine brown hair. He had his arms crossed and a familiar disappointing scowl on his face.
"You've been eating the Christmas cookies." Sherlock said in a knowing voice.
"No I haven't!" Mycroft protested narrowing his eyes.
"You have crumbs on your shirt and your footsteps came from the direction of the kitchen. You woke have flour on your foot from when the back of flour dropped on the floor last night."
"No I...just...stop!" Mycroft stuttered angrily. "Give me my camera!" Sherlock handed the camera over to his older brother who pointed it at him. "Mummy said to record tonight so we can watched it when we get older." Mycroft sighed.
"Boring." Sherlock rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out. He was in a pair of blue pajamas, his hair neat and combed. He was also missing one of his front teeth. "Where did her and daddy go? I thought we were gonna read the Night Before Christmas!" He whined. "I stopped my experiment with the mice for this!"
"Sherlock, stop whining. Here they come!" Mycroft said excitedly, taking the camera away from his younger brother. Just then, a man and woman walked in the room beside each other, each wearing rather strained grins.

"Hello, boys." The woman said sweetly, walking over to the brothers and planting a quick kiss on each of their foreheads before taking Sherlock's hand and leading him to the couch. She was a tall, elegant- looking woman with blonde hair and defined cheekbones, much like Sherlock's.

"Mummy, did you know that most parts of the evergreen tree are edible? They're a good source of Vitamin C!" Sherlock said excitedly, grasping his mother's hand and following her to the couch.

"That's nice, dear." She said distractedly, taking a seat on the couch and pulling Sherlock into her lap.

"We're not eating the Christmas tree." Mycroft scoffed, positioning the camera to get the whole family in the shot.

"Mycroft, Sherlock, behave." Mr. Holmes said sternly from his seat in the large chair next to the couch.

"Yes sir." The boys said in unison. Mycroft turned the camera on and scooted to his place next to his mother and Sherlock, handing his father a large, green, hardback book before taking his seat.
"Now remember, I can only stay for a few minutes." He said in his deep voice. "I have to leave soon."
"Yes, sir." Sherlock and Mycroft repeated. The man started reading the book quickly, turning the pages abruptly.
"Are you nervous, daddy?" Sherlock asked, interrupting his father mid-sentence.

"Nervous?" Mr. Holmes asked, anger and annoyance creeping into his voice.
"You're talking really fast," Sherlock pointed out. "And wearing your expensive aftershave. That means you're meeting someone important, someone you're nervous about meeting. Is it a woman? Typically, women are fonder of aftershave because they tend to notice it more than men."
"Why can't you just act /normal/ for once?" Sherlock's father said through gritted teeth.
"Did I get it right?" Sherlock asked excitedly, leaning towards the man.

"Woman?" Mrs. Holmes asked, furrowing her brow. "I thought you said you were meeting Mr. Bogley from work."
"IT IS YOUR FAULT HE'S LIKE THIS!" Mr. Holmes yelled, standing abruptly. "A...freak." He spat out the last word, storming out of the room. Young Sherlock's eyes filled with tears as he held on to his mother tightly, who pushed him away quickly and stood.
"No! Get back here! We need to talk!" She shouted, going after her husband. Sherlock curled up into a tight ball on the couch, tears spilling from his eyes.
"He didn't mean it." Mycroft said quietly, scooting closer to his brother and wrapping an arm around him.

"Yes he did." Sherlock whimpered, shutting his eyes tightly.

"No, he didn't." Mycroft said sternly, looking down into Sherlock's eyes. "Listen to me. You are very special and he just doesn't understand it."

Sherlock nodded slowly, climbing into his brother's arms and burying his face in his chest. Mycroft sighed quietly, holding Sherlock tight and closing his eyes as well, wishing that for once, the Holmes family could be normal.