Wide Awake

Author Notes: So this is my new Sherlock fic. I won't give too much a way but there is kidlock in here (pretty straight forward really, its an idea from tumblr of the characters being kids so yeah). Please rate, review and favourite too xxxxx

Chapter One: Is This Real, Is This Pretend?

Sherlock Holmes had always known what he wanted to be when he grew up.

His impeccable talents meant that he could create his own job instead of the menial ones ordinary people had.

He was the consulting detective, only one in the world, the job he created.

It gave him a sense of purpose in the world that had been so cruel to him. It gave him arrogance, knowing that the people who had hated him for his gift now needed him. He enjoyed being better than them.

He also had a wonderful companion; Doctor John Watson; the doctor, the man who had killed for him. The man who trusted him with everything, the man who accepted him despite his faults.

He hoped it would never change and that he could protect his and John's friendship in a bubble.

'Nonsense.' Sherlock thought, 'What a stupid sentiment.'

He felt he did that a lot, thinking up sentimental things that betrayed his sociopathic thoughts. John was inside his head. He'd worked his way into his mind-palace. Sherlock should have been angry, but he didn't mind it. John made him a better person, made him a sociopath with a heart.

Not a heart big enough to place his brother in but big enough for John.

He'd never had a friend before, especially not that he placed in his heart. He cared for John greatly and it was actually no surprise that he cared what John thought of him.

While Sherlock thought of John, their flat, their habits and, well, everything really, he couldn't help the nagging feeling in the back of his mind. The feeling telling him that this was all wrong. He shook his head slightly and settled back into his mind-palace, this would not do at all, stupid feelings worming their way into his head.

He continued to memorise everything; well, the interesting stuff anyway. He memorised details of the cases, the criminals, the locations and mostly, John's ever changing expressions.

He spent quite some time memorising John, all the while wondering why.

The nagging feeling grew stronger and Sherlock fought to shake it off, rolling back and forth a few times on the couch

"No. Stop it. Stupid emotions. Weak."

"Sherlock! Wake up!"

"Shut up, Mycroft!"

'Wait, why is Mycroft here? What's going on?'

"Wake up, Sherlock! You'll wake the whole house!"

"What, Mycroft?"

'That's peculiar, my voice sounds oddly childlike.'

"You were talking in your sleep again, except louder this time."

Sherlock turned to look at his brother finally, noting how different he looked.

"Mycroft, you're not fat." The words caught even Sherlock by surprise.

"You cheeky bugger. I should slap you. Maybe I'll tell Mummy and let her do it."

"Yes, well. So why did you wake me?"

"To tell you to bloody shut up."

"Fine, goodnight, brother."

"Goodnight, Sherlock." Mycroft sighed, finally leaving the room.

Okay after some reviews I decided to edit this; make it two chapters long and try to give it more depth *fingers crossed* I'm also giving the two chapters titles as I always try to do with my stories. Do you like it? R&R please xxxxx