![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Title: Keeper
Author: gardnerhill
Form/Wordcount: 221b
Characters/Pairings: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, James Moriarty
Rating: PG (Implied violence, horror)
Warnings/Content: Implied violence. Horror.
Summary: "Mischief" has several meanings.
Author’s Notes: For the Holmes Minor October 2018 prompt: Mischief.
***
"Where's your brother, Jackie?"
The grubby 6-year-old boy beamed up at his mother.
Eliza Watson fought not to laugh at the mud-covered older boy slogging his way out of the thicket moments later.
"Liar!" Henry roared. "There was no pirate treasure in the creek!"
#
"Where is your brother, Sherlock?"
The 10-year-old lad sat up in the saddle and looked over his shoulder. "He ought to have been right behind me, Father. I did tell him it was an absurdly simple course."
With a crash and crackle of foliage, the older larger boy broke through the hedge on his larger broader horse. Mycroft said nothing, but his expression was darker than the louring rainclouds that threatened overhead.
"Of course," the younger lad mused, "I may have miscalculated the width of the paths. A pity I am not as astute as you, brother mine."
Squire Holmes bit down hard on a grin. "You'll be grooming Bayard as payment for that prank, young man."
#
"Oh, Jamie. Where's thy brother?"
The 8-year-old only stared at Mummy, his eyes shining and expressionless as glass. "Dunno. We were playing in the garden. He went away."
A chill ran up Elsa Moriarty's spine once again at those empty eyes – but at the horrified cry from the groom shining a lantern down the well, her mind went black.
Author: gardnerhill
Form/Wordcount: 221b
Characters/Pairings: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, James Moriarty
Rating: PG (Implied violence, horror)
Warnings/Content: Implied violence. Horror.
Summary: "Mischief" has several meanings.
Author’s Notes: For the Holmes Minor October 2018 prompt: Mischief.
***
"Where's your brother, Jackie?"
The grubby 6-year-old boy beamed up at his mother.
Eliza Watson fought not to laugh at the mud-covered older boy slogging his way out of the thicket moments later.
"Liar!" Henry roared. "There was no pirate treasure in the creek!"
#
"Where is your brother, Sherlock?"
The 10-year-old lad sat up in the saddle and looked over his shoulder. "He ought to have been right behind me, Father. I did tell him it was an absurdly simple course."
With a crash and crackle of foliage, the older larger boy broke through the hedge on his larger broader horse. Mycroft said nothing, but his expression was darker than the louring rainclouds that threatened overhead.
"Of course," the younger lad mused, "I may have miscalculated the width of the paths. A pity I am not as astute as you, brother mine."
Squire Holmes bit down hard on a grin. "You'll be grooming Bayard as payment for that prank, young man."
#
"Oh, Jamie. Where's thy brother?"
The 8-year-old only stared at Mummy, his eyes shining and expressionless as glass. "Dunno. We were playing in the garden. He went away."
A chill ran up Elsa Moriarty's spine once again at those empty eyes – but at the horrified cry from the groom shining a lantern down the well, her mind went black.