"Come along, Mycroft, dear. Don't be shy," the weary, dark haired woman said softly, patting an empty space next to her on the hospital bed. Seven-year old Mycroft didn't need telling twice as he rushed forward to meet his new baby brother.

Hopping up on the edge of the bed, he placed his hands politely in his hands as he peered into his mother's arms and looked at the tiny little bundle. The infant was asleep, his small face relaxed and calm and a fuzzy layer of already thick dark hair coated his head.

"He's kind of funny looking," Mycroft said softly, trying to be quiet so as not to wake the new baby. "What's his name going to be?" he asked, glancing up to his mother who offered him a sweet smile.

"Sherlock. I like the sound of it, Sherlock Holmes," she replied as she gently stroked little Sherlock's cheek.

"He's so small, was I that small, mummy, when I was baby?" Mycroft asked and hesitently reached out to pet the child's small hand. He seemed so fragile, so delicate. Mycroft could hardly believe that after nearly nine months of waiting, he was finally getting to see the new baby brother he'd been waiting for. He'd always wanted a brother, someone he could play with. But this little creature was so small, he'd have to wait an awful long time before he was big enough to play with.

"Indeed you were, darling. A bit bigger than him, but still small. Sherlock here was born a bit early, you see. They're going to keep him overnight to make sure he's alright, but then he can come home," she replied before sitting up slightly and adjusting the baby in her arms. "Would you like to hold him, love?" she asked, and Mycroft nodded eagerly.

As his mother sat up and carefully extended her arms, Mycroft quickly mimiced the way she held her arms and took the offered baby into his own small arms, looking down at Sherlock as the baby came to rest in his care and his mother smiled and leaned back in the bed once more, watching her children with a loving gaze.

"You're a big brother now, Mycroft. He'll be looking up to you one day, looking to you for guidance and protection," she said softly, and Mycroft smiled as his heart swelled up with joy. How proud he felt, to be such an important person now. He thought of all the things he would teach Sherlock; how to read, how to ride a bike, how to throw a ball without breaking a window. Feeling a great burst of love and affection, Mycroft gently lowered his head and planted a tender kiss on Sherlock's forehead.

"I'll be the best big brother in the whole world," he promised.