The Skull - a Kid!Lock fanfiction


1. Promises

”It’s all a game, Sherlock… Just a game. There’s no need to be scared, or afraid. The little boy was shaking, having a tight grip around his older brothers’ thumb. His deep blue eyes, which used to catch and collect, every little detail, about almost everything, were now redly stained by tears.

“Mycroft?” he said. – “Why are they always fighting like that?”

He looked at his brother, who was just as afraid, as himself, he could see.

“I’m afraid, I don’t know, Sherlock.. I guess.. That’s just what normal people do..”

The evening was at its end, and it became cold, as a storm, coming. They sat again at the doorstep, waiting for their father to calm down, after returning home.. Drunk, again. “Drinking ruins the mind, Sherlock..” Mycroft said, as they started walking, down the street.

Sherlock stopped, staring at the sky. “I’ll never drink alcohol.. I promise you, Mycroft..” I promise, I’ll never get drunk..” Mycroft smiled, at his curious little brother. He felt the rain on his hand. “Sherlock, come here.” He said as he unfolded his umbrella. “Why are you always carrying that silly umbrella, anyway, Mycroft?“

They held each other’s hand, once again. “For situations like this.” He answered.

“Will you promise me one thing, like I promised you? Sherlock said.

Mycroft nodded. “That you’ll always be there for me..?”

“I promise you, Sherlock.. Forever..”


Some years later, Mycroft returned home from university, with a man.

Their father had gone out, again.

The now nine-year-old Sherlock, stood waiting in the window to his room, and ran as fast as he could down the stairs to see his brother, for the first time in five months.

The first thing he saw was the ring of gold, on Mycrofts’ finger, and the smile disappeared, completely.

Their mother stood in the hall, talking to Mycrofts’ friend, with a big smile on her face.

“You must be, the famous Sherlock Holmes,” the man said, reaching to shake the boys’ hand.

Sherlock looked at his brother. “Are you going to marry, that stupid morron, Mycroft?!”

Mycroft looked at the man, and then at Sherlock. “This is Thomas”, he said, as his face turned emotionless.

Sherlock ran to his room, slamming the door behind him.

He didn’t show up for dinner, and not even for dessert. When the dark fell over the London streets, he sat in the window, starring at the moon, when someone knocked at the door. It was his brother he could tell, by the knocking. They had a secret “Knocking-code.”
“Go, away Mycroft!”

“Sherlock, I need to talk to you.. And I promise, afterwards I’ll read you The Treasure Island.”

He didn’t answer, and the door opened.

“Why is the moon, always looking sad?” Sherlock asked.

“She’s sad because, she’ll never see the light of day, like we do..”

Sherlock looked sad too, staring out the window of clear glass.

“I like the night better.” He said.

Mycroft took his brothers hand, like he used to.

“Sherlock.. I have to tell you this.. I love Thomas, very much.. And someday you’ll meet someone, and feel the same way.”

Sherlock listened. “I don’t think so… I’m going to die alone..” Still looking at the moon.. “Just like her.”

“The moon can’t die, silly.”

The pale boy studied the ring, without any expression on his face. Thinking.

“You know that he used his last money for that ring, don’t you?” – “And you’ve spilt some tea on you tie..”

Mycroft laughed a warm laughter. “I have some secret cookies, for you Einstein..”

Sherlock grabbed the cookies, and jumped into bed taking the book from under his pillow. “READ” he said.

The older brother, stroke the pages in the old book, with his fingertips. “You haven’t turned a single page, since last time, we read it” he said looking surprisingly at the boy.

The next morning during breakfast Thomas and Mycroft sat alone in the dining room, enjoying their tea, when the overexcited Sherlock, ran down the stairs, with a toy sword in his hand, and a pirate hat, with a skull on the front, covering the dark curls on his head.

“What do you want to be, when you grow up Sherlock?” Thomas asked.

“Pirate or detective! – But mostly because the officers and cops, a incredibly stupid and ignorant, to everything they see. Or see but does not observe! Or perhaps they’re just ignoring it..”

A few minutes after, there was someone on the phone.

“Thomas, it’s for you, dear!” Mrs. Holmes shouted from the hallway.

Sherlock became quiet. “What does Thomas do, for a living, Mycroft?” He whispered.

“He’s training at Barts to become a soldier..”

When Thomas returned, his hands were shaking, and so was his voice. Sherlock stared at the tall skinny man, with crooked fingers, and ashy blond hair.

Left handed. Used suit, borrowed for a first impression. He looked nervous.

“They’ve selected me, to join the war..” he said with almost no tune in his voice.

Sherlock looked at Mycroft, who looked Thomas in the eyes, touching his ring.

They hugged, as Mr. Holmes walked through the door.

“What the hell, is going on!” He screamed almost.

Sherlock tried to save them from his fathers’ anger. “Mycroft is marrying Thomas, whom is now going to war, and perhaps is dying.”

Mycroft had tears in his eyes, still having his arms around his afraid fiancé.

The father left in haste.

“We only have around half an hour, till they’ll come and get me..” Thomas said.

Sherlock didn’t know what to do, looking at his sword.

“Thomas..” he said.. “This is for you..!” Giving Thomas his sword, for protection. “I don’t need it anymore.”

They looked at each other, both with admiration. “Thank you, Cap’n Holmes!” For the first and last time, they shook hands.

Sherlock sat on the doorstep, looking at the cab, getting Thomas. The lovers was torn apart, with a kiss. They both cried.

Sherlock waved as the cab, left. Rising to hold Mycrofts’ hand. He almost saw his own face in the ring.

“You’ll be a brilliant detective, Sherlock..!” Thomas’ last sentence repeated in his head.

“It’s going to be okay..”


Around a year after, on Sherlock’s 10th birthday, the family received a package.

Mycroft sat alone, reading as he had done for long. He had dropped out of university, which bothered Sherlock a bit. To see his brother that sad.. Thomas hadn’t left a word for months, and Mycroft was worried, and without showing, Sherlock was too.

Sherlock got the package, read the note, and ran to his room.

“Open this in secrecy Sherlock, without your brother knowing.”


He closed the door and locked it, with his secret key.

“Dear Sherlock, I’m sorry if there’s any grammatical mistakes, which I know bothers you.

Happy birthday, this is my gift for you. Promise me you’ll care for it, will you. And don’t tell your brother where you got it from. Battle killed me, and told the officers to hand you this, when if I died.

Be good to your brother, will you. And tell him to move on, and meet love again. Tell him that I love him, with all my heart.

And Sherlock? Promise me, you’ll find a friend, whom you trust, okay? Mycroft told me, you find it difficult to make friends. You’re a brilliant and very smart kid.

Your friend Thomas.     

Sherlock dropped the paper, staring into the air. He opened the box.

“Hello, Thomas.” He lifted a skull, studying it carefully.

Days after, Mycroft  received a letter. 

The Death Certificate of his love.




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