A/N: Looking through my Sherlock ideas, found this one, decided to try it. You see, on top of being a Sherlock fan, I'm also a Merlin fan. I was thinking about Merlin and Arthur's "two sides of one coin" relationship, I figured that since Sherlock and John were so close so quickly, it could be a similar case. Whole thing is more a thought process than an actual story.

Oh, this chapter starts when Sherlock's around six or so. John is about ten, (because I honestly think John is 4-5 years older than Sherlock, and even if he isn't, that impression is burnt into my head.) Mycroft is about fourteen, and Harry roughly the same as Mycroft.

And I may use some British vocab for fun (ex: holiday instead of vacation). =D

Plus, in this Sherlock and John don't live far apart (same town, different parts), but they still don't know each other (you'll get why I mentioned that later).

Also note there is a cat lying on my arm as I type, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

As always, no slash.

Enjoyz!

Disclaimer: I own neither Sherlock, nor Merlin (I have a reason for mentioning Merlin!).

"Uhhhhggg," Sherlock moaned into his pillow after another coughing fit, his sweat-soaked curls clinging to his brow for dear life. Of all the times to get pneumonia, it had to be during winter holiday, didn't it?

Yes.

And as much as Sherlock, being the typical 6-year-old (even though in most respects he was anything but typical), hated sleep, he found himself trying to do just that, if nothing else to escape the boredom of being bedridden, and to ignore the fact he could be studying snowflakes or tormenting Mycroft and his preppy friends right at that instant.

Not at all because he was tired.

So, ignoring the soup and books on his bedside table, Sherlock quickly drifted off to sleep.

And oddly enough, only one repeated thought ran through his mind; a name.

The name of someone he didn't know, yet felt was missing. Close by, but missing nonetheless.

John.

-Meanwhile, with the Watson siblings...-

"Catch me if you can, Harry!" John called playfully as he ran away from his older sister, dragging his sled up the hill as he went.

"I'll make you eat those words along with the snow, John!" She called back, trying to swing her long, icy hair out of her face and attempting to hit the blond-haired boy with the snowballs she had made just before her brother had ambushed her.

The two siblings ran around in the sun, laughing and throwing (rather poorly aimed) snowballs at each other, Harry chasing John up the hill in a zigzag pattern, John going down an already worn-to-the-point-of-packed path on his sled, Harry following on her stomach, penguin-style, shooting up at the bottom, dodging the snow-man, continue chase.

Rinse, lather, repeat. This cycle lasted another few rounds before the two flopped down into a fresh patch of snow and started lazily making snow-angels, still laughing slightly, but quieting down.

A few minutes of comfortable silence passed, the brother and sister just staring up at the few clouds drifting by and smiling, when suddenly John sat straight up with a gasp, the smile deciding to do a disappearing act.

Harry sat up slowly and looked at her brother in a concerned manner.

"John, what's wrong? Are you ok?"

John looked around in a way that suggested he had lost something. Finally, staring in the direction of the richer side of town, he answered. "Y-yeah, I'm... I'm fine. I just feel like... like there's somewhere else I need to be, like I'm in the wrong place at the wrong time." He turned back to Harry, "It's probably nothing, but I also thought I heard someone say my name."

"Huh, that's weird. Was it mum?"

"No, it didn't sound like her, and besides, it's not even close to getting dark yet. It sounded more like a little kid's voice, actually."

Harry shrugged. "Strange. Oh well, that's happened to me before. Remember that time I ran off because I thought dad had called me? Then it turned out he hadn't yelled anything?"

John smiled. "Yep, I remember that. Pretty funny, if you ask me."

Harry pushed her brother playfully. "Yeah yeah, shut it." She said, an obvious laugh in her voice. "Come on, let's go down the hill again!"

"Sure!" John replied, standing up quickly but trying not to ruin his snow angel.

As Harry ran towards the base of the hill, John added a halo and wings to the angel with his glove-clad finger before straightening up and smacking his hands together to get rid of the snow and smiled.

Then he looked back to the other side of town. He didn't know why, but he felt like there was some place over there that he should've been.

"John, are you coming over here with that sled or do I have to steal it while you daydream about Emma?" Harry called, effectively snapping John out of his trance.

John grabbed the rope to his sled and pulled it after him. "I do not have a crush on Emma!" He called to his sister.

"Sure you don't."

John rolled his eyes. Girls. At least Harry wasn't afraid to get a little snow on her, unlike a lot of the girls at his school.

Throughout the course of the day, John glanced several times in the direction of the other side of town, trying to shake that earlier feeling.

A/N It's a little strange, rather short, and sort of (completely) made up as I went along, but all in all, I'm quite pleased with it. Sorry the Sherlock section was so short.

Oh, if I do another chapter, the rolls will basically be switched. But note, the chapters aren't in chronological order. One may be like this, with 6-year-old Sherlock and 10-year-old John, while the next may be 10-year-old Sherlock and 14-year-old John, and the next may be back to the ages in this. So yeah.

Hope you enjoyed! Reviews or anything else are appreciated, and ideas extremely welcome.

This will probably stay rated as "complete" because it's mainly a one-shot collection. If I'm working on a two-shot, it'll temporarily change to "in-progress." Don't let that discourage you from following! ;)

Happy Thanksgiving! (And Winter Break/holidays! Seriously, that's the only reason I had time to write this!)