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Sherlock is ignoring him. Martin is fine with this, he has his planes to carefully place on the shelves of the time out cabin.
It’s Sherlock’s fault they’re here anyway. If he hadn’t been so ...so smug! And pointed out Martin’s every flaw in front of everyone just because Martin had been able to out think him in their game of poker. Though it had been Martin who had decided to get him back and made him think there had been a break into his cabin when it was only a bird. But Sherlock didn’t have to get him back in return by putting dead animals all over his cabin just before inspection!
It wasn’t Martin’s fault he was here. Why did he have to take it out on him, just because people kept confusing the pair of them...
“If you’re going to start crying, keep it down. I’m trying to think.” Sherlock snaps from behind him.
“I’m fine.” Martin says, placing his favourite photograph of his mother up high.
Sherlock is across the room in a moment, grabbing the photograph and examining it.
“Hey! That’s mine!”
Sherlock glares at him. “It’s my mother.”
Martin freezes. “No, that’s my mother. It’s the only photo Dad let me have of her, after his stupid girlfriend and her kids moved in.”
Sherlock runs his eyes over the photograph again but this time, he holds it up beside Martin’s face. “Date of birth?”
“Of my mother?”
“No! You!”
“6th January!” Martin states, his eyes wide.
Sherlock drops the photograph. “Same as mine.” He says softly. Martin’s eyes widen.
“Sherlock, you’re not-”
“Facts! We need more facts. Why didn’t your mother raise you?”
Martin looks down. “She already had a family. Dad said she loved me but had to go back to them or her other kid would suffer. She left me with him where I would be happy.”
Sherlock moves slowly back to his suitcase and pulls out an old photograph of his own. “Do you recognise this man?”
“Dad!” Martin cries. “Where did you get that?”
“Mummy had it in her closet. I found it when I was six after Siger called me a bastard. She said that it was my biological father and to ignore Siger, he was just jealous. She wouldn’t say what of but I was allowed to keep this if I kept it hidden.”
Martin ran his hand over his Dad’s face. “You don’t think-?”
Sherlock nods. “It fits the facts. Mummy must have left Siger, for a year or more during which she had us. She couldn’t hide that she had had a child but she also realised only one of us had to suffe- come with her to make a lie believable. So-”
“We’re twins?”
Sherlock rolls his eyes. “Yes, do keep up Martin.”
Martin makes a face at his...brother and takes the photograph of his Dad. “This isn’t a good photo though, I’ve got better in my bag.”
“Can I see?” Sherlock asks softly, the shaking in his voice barely noticeable. Martin nods, picking up on the strong desire to see his father.
“Do..do you have ones of Mum?”
Sherlock nods and the brothers quickly fetch all their photographs and put them all on Martin’s bed. Sherlock stands by the bed for a moment before Martin pulls him onto it to sit beside him.
“Who’s that?” Martin asks, pointing at a slightly chubby boy in one of the photographs.
“That’s my...our brother Mycroft.” Sherlock grabs another one, a family photo, and points to each person. “That’s Mycroft, me, Siger and Mummy.”
“Oh.” Martin says softly. “I would love to meet them.”
“You wouldn’t. Mycroft is fat and dull.”
“At least he’s not mean! That’s Simon,” he points at a boy and girl in another photograph. “And he’s really mean. Caitlin is nicer but she doesn’t want to talk to me. And that’s-”
“You want to meet Mummy?” Sherlock cuts him off, focusing on the photo of Martin on his Dad’s shoulders, taken a week before he came to this camp at his soon to be step-mother’s request.
“Yes?”
“I want to meet...Dad. Why can’t we?”
Martin pauses in his handling of the photos. “What?”
“Why can’t we meet our parents? I mean, you won’t last a day there before you’re found out-”
“Hey!” Martin cries
“-but my home is the other side of the country to you and if Siger doesn’t notice, Mummy might let you stay.” Sherlock finishes as if Martin hadn’t spoken. “We’ll get a week, maybe two, after which we could have enough information to blackmail them into letting us see them more often.”
His face is cold and calculating but Martin recognises the look in his eyes. It’s the same one he sees in his own whenever he’s hoping of a morning that today will be the day Dad decides he’s had enough of Jessica and it'll go back to just being them. No more Simon.
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
*********
It’s a long process getting Martin ready to be Sherlock.
It’s an even longer process getting Sherlock ready to be Martin.
Sherlock’s longer locks have to be cut to match Martin’s and Sherlock sneaks out one night and buys black dye for Martin’s hair. Both of them have to memorise names, though Martin less than Sherlock as Martin doesn’t make a practice of regularly forgetting the help’s names.
Martin also doesn’t have any ‘help’ to remember names of. But there’s all his classmates to learn and Sherlock has to pretend to care about so many people. It’s harder than he thought it was going to be. But he doesn’t have to be perfect.
Martin does.
Martin has to learn how to deduce, something that took Sherlock years to learn, even to be half as good as he is now. And he has to be be perfect- one difference was all it would take and Mycroft would notice. Once he had noticed, he would look carefully until he found out why. Then Mummy would find out...and so would Siger. Who didn’t like Sherlock, the boy he has raised. What would he think of Martin?
“I can’t do this.” Martin says one day, after hours of revising names that Sherlock knows and deducing campers like Sherlock would. He gets about half the deductions right.
“You can.” Sherlock replies, complete confidence in his voice.
“But-”
“You can do it.”
Martin sighs. “I’m not as smart as you-”
“Square root of 3969?” Sherlock fires off.
“63.” A startled Martin replies.
“Right angled triangle with sides of 9 and 12. What’s the other side?”
“Umm... 15.”
“Name three types of planes from before 1945.”
“Spitfire, Mustang, Hurricane. What are you trying to prove?”
“You’re smart. Not quite as smart as me, but smart.” Sherlock gives him a small smile.
“I panic in test. This is a test.”
Sherlock shakes his head. “Not a test. Just...Mummy. Think about Mummy as your goal. You only have to really pass for a few hours. Long enough for Siger to think you’re me, then he’ll leave and you’ll not be tested anymore.”
“Okay. One more try?”
********
Suddenly their time was up and camp was over. Martin was supposed to now be going to return to his family and try to be invisible in case his step-mother found another place to stash him for a month, while Sherlock would supposedly return to his life with an overprotective mother and brother and absent at best father.
Only, that wasn’t what happened.
Neither acknowledge the other as they left, beyond Sherlock shoving a last minute reminder to stay calm into Martin’s hand and Martin’s small smile in return. Martin hops into the sleek black car sent for She-him. Him- while Sherlock sighs before catching the bus with the rest of the campers headed in the direction of Mart-his- home.
Both are nervous.
********
Mummy is more beautiful in the flesh than she is in a photograph.
That is the only thought in Martin’s head as he sprints up the driveway and allows her to pull him into a hug.
“How was it?” She whispers sadly.
Martin takes a breath and does his best attempt at Sherlock’s accent so far. “Frightfully dull.”
Mummy laughs and he sighs in relief, taking another sniff of her perfume. “I missed you darling.”
Martin desperately wants to tell her how much he missed-misses- her but he is Sherlock. “I may have experienced some discomfort at your absence.” He says.
Mummy releases the hug. “Oh my dear, never change.”
She gives him such a look of delight and Martin melts. Then a figure familiar only from photographs comes up behind her and Martin straightens a bit. This is his first real test.
Mycroft holds out his hand under their mother’s watchful eye. “Welcome home Sherlock.” He says tonelessly.
Martin eyes the hand for a moment, because what if he doesn’t get the pressure of the handshake right or something stupid like that? It seems like the right thing to do though, as Mycroft rolls his eyes.
“It’s not poisoned, shake it.”
“Of course it’s not.” He says and his voice is shaking! But Mycroft only narrows his eyes and the handshake causes no further problems.
“Come inside dear.” Mummy says. “Your Father wants to see you, then you can go unpack.”
Sherlock’s father. The man who taught Mycroft deduction. Martin takes another deep breath and Mycroft’s eyes narrow further.
********
His Dad is wonderful.
The first thing he did when Sherlock hopped off the bus was wave like a madman. Sherlock had made his way over there and been swept up into a enormous hug, lifted straight off the ground. Sherlock had almost squealed in shock but instinct had him hugging back.
“I missed you Martin.” A working class accent, exactly as Martin had described, and the smell of burnt wires. An electrician.
He squeezed again before lowering Sherlock and that had reminded him he needed to speak. “I missed you too Dad. Can I never go there again?”
“Sure. Come on home, dinner is cooking. And what did you do to your hair?”
They had spent the drive catching up, which was mainly Sherlock fudging details about his trip to exclude the mention of Martin and his Dad telling him about complete strangers.
They’ve stayed complete strangers. Sure Sherlock knows everything Martin has told him about Simon, Caitlin and their mother but they have not even come to greet Martin...him. So he has taken to exploring Martin’s room, running delighted fingers over the models Martin and their Dad have clearly spent hours building together. He wonders if there’s any unbuilt ones around. he may not like planes as much as Martin but he would love the time-
“Oh look, freak’s home.” Sherlock freezes as the same insult directed at him every school day sounds in his ears. It takes him a moment to realise this must be Simon and he’s talking to Martin.
“Simon.” He says simply, his tone neutral and his back still turned to the door.
A hand grabs his shoulder to pull him and he reacts, side stepping the force of the pull and watching as Simon over compensates and falls.
“Oops.” He says, deliberately using his own tone.
Simon narrows his eyes. “You sounds like a posh freak when you do that.”
“And abusing me isn’t going to make your father come back.” Sherlock snaps back. Simon’s eyes widen.
“How-”
Sherlock smirks, his darkest look in his eyes. “Careful Simon. I’m not quite the Martin you remember.”
Simon’s eyes dilate in fear and he slowly flees the room. Sherlock goes back to exploring.
********
He’s staring at him over the dinner table while they’re eating their breakfast. It’s unnerving and unexpected behaviour from his Dad. Sherlock keeps trying to not look while eating and still be Martin. It’s hard.
“You’re not- You’re not Martin.”
Sherlock’s blood runs cold but he keeps the act up. “What do you mean Dad? Who else could I be?”
His Dad blinks. “Simon told his mother what happened and she told me. He said you were like a monster.”
“Dad, I was just trying to scare him. See if he would leave me alone. I’m, sorry, if I scared him-”
“How did you know about his father?” For a moment, Sherlock’s eyes flash with pride at a successful deduction and the look on his Dad’s face changes.
“Sarah.” He whispers and Sherlock’s head jerks at the sound of his mother’s name.
“No.” His Dad says as the blood leaves his face.
“Dad?” Sherlock asks, slightly terrified. He loses his control over his voice for a moment and his usual accent slips through.
“Sherlock?” His Dad says then he’s around the table in a moment and pulling Sherlock out of his seat and into a hug even stronger than the one two days earlier.
“Dad.” Sherlock confirms, tightening his grip on his Dad.
“Oh my God, I missed you son. Welcome home.”
*********
“Martin?”
Martin jerks his head up automatically, meaning Mycroft’s bemused gaze before trying to return to the wonderful book on aeroplanes he took from the library at camp. With Sherlock’s help- he had the wonderful idea to disguise it as another book that he had brought, using the protective outside cover of it so Martin could read it at his home with no suspicions raised.
“Martin.” Mycroft repeats, moving to kneel in front of his brother. He puts a hand on Martin’s jaw and pushes his head up, forcing him to meet his eyes.
“Mycroft, I’m Sherlock. Who’s Martin?”
“You are a horrible liar.” Mycroft says, with a small smile. “And not at all like Sherlock.”
“I tried to be.” Martin whispers.
“I know. You did a perfect job in front of Father.” Martin blushes at the compliment.
“Are you going to tell?" Martin asks in a small voice.
“Father? No. Mummy? I had rather thought you should.”
Martin looks back down at his book. “Now?”
“Now.” Then Mycroft pulls him out of the chair and into a quick hug. “I may have only seen you the once before now, but you are my brother.” He says as he releases Martin. “Trust I will not lead you astray.”
Martin smiles as he remembers a tale Sherlock had shared. “Will you eat all my cake as well?”
Mycroft scrowled. “You are more alike to Sherlock than first appearances suggest.”
“Thank you.” Martin says as he exits the room.
********
“Mummy?” Martin asks as he enters her study.
“Yes, dear. I’m a bit busy at the moment-”
“Sorry Mummy. Mycroft said I had to tell you right away.” He looks down.
Mummy abandons her work and comes to kneel before her son. “Sherlock, darling, what is it?”
“That’s it.” his eyes are still on the ground.
She blinks. “What?”
“Not Sherlock.” He says in a small voice. “We meet at camp and I wanted to meet you and he wanted to meet Dad so we swap-”
He’s cut off as she pulls him into her chest in the tightest hug he’s ever had.
“Martin?” She breaths.
“Yes Mummy?” He says, dropping Sherlock’s voice.
“Martin. My Martin. Oh my Martin.” She starts to rock him and he puts his arms around her.
“I love you Mummy.”
She chokes back a sob. “And I you.”
*********
There’s a series of phone calls.
More than either boy could imagine. It seems neither parent is willing to give up the twin they have now, but they both acknowledge the need to swap them back. After the third time Sherlock cuts the phone line, in an attempt to stop the calls, it’s agreed that they need to meet.
They pick London for the meeting.
Mummy convinces Siger she’s only taking Sherlock and Mycroft for a quick trip before school starts, though he doesn’t notice that she packs all her well loved items and far too much for a week’s trip.
He’s always been oblivious to emotions and this has been coming for a long time.
********
“Sherlock!” Martin calls, delighted to finally see his brother again. How he got into his room is not even a thought to Martin.
“Shh!” Sherlock says, a finger to his lips. “Put these on.”
Martin frowns. “Those are my clothes.”
“I know. Put them on.” Martin shrugs and pulls on the clothes as requested. Sherlock is wearing something near identical, only his shirt is a different colour.
“Okay, from now on neither of us answer to Sherlock. We’re both Martin.”
“What are you doing?”
“Manipulation.” Sherlock smirks.
********
“You’ve left him then?” It’s not the first words Sarah thought she was going to hear, but they do make her smile.
“How could you tell?” She asks as she turns to look at Daniel Crieff.
“You look happy. You only ever looked that happy when we were together and even then, only until our boys were born.”
She gives him a cheeky smile. “Not even that last night?”
“Now that was only dinner and a kiss. Nothing happened.” He takes the empty seat next to her.
“I know. Still made me happy.”
Daniel’s smile fades from his face. “I can’t take you back.”
“I know. I was never going to ask you to.” She says sadly. “The boys will work some mischief, I’m sure of it but I know. You have another family now.”
“Our positions, reversed. On the irony.” Daniel reaches for her hand and gives it a small kiss.
“You’ll let me see him?”
She nods. “Always. Whenever you want. You’ll let me see him?”
“Of course. You’ll be closer this time, I presume?”
“I think so. My mother’s is nearby, I’ll be staying there while we figure out the divorce.”
“Sherlock has Simon terrified.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t terrify Martin. He has that effect on other children. He’s just...so intense.”
“So is Martin, at times. They’re brothers, no doubt.”
“Come then.” Sarah withdraws her hand from his. “Let’s go see what mischief our boys are up to then.”
********
They’re dressed identically and her heart hurts as she realises what they are trying to force them to do.
“Sherlock.” She tries.
“Yes?” Both boys answer after a moment.
“Martin.” Daniel tries.
Again, both boys answer. “Yes?”
Sarah sighs. “Okay boys. Go grab your things.” She turns to Daniel. “I’ll take them the first week?”
He nods. “I’ll come pick them up next week. I think we might be able to fit Sherlock into Martin’s class-”
“What? No!” Sherlock cries, his act at being Martin slipping. “This isn’t right!”
Sarah bends down to look her son in the eyes. “Darling, this is the real world. I’m going to be living at your grandmothers for a while but... I’m sorry, there’s no way we’re ever going to be a family. There was no chance then, and no chance now.”
“But...”
She pulls him into a hug. “I can’t promise it’ll be perfect but I will promise you and Martin will see each other all the time.”
“And Dad?”
“And Dad.”
Sherlock nods slowly and lets her go. Martin’s eyes are glittering with tears but he follows Sherlock to their room.
“I never did give you that happy ending I promised, Sarah.” Daniel says softly.
“Happy endings are only in stories.”