Mycroft read the book quietly to his younger brother, who was curled up in his lap. "Most of the veins of the heart open into the coronary sinus. This is a wide venous channel about 2.25 cm. in length situated in the posterior part of the coronary sulcus, and covered by muscular fibers from the left atrium." Sherlock shifted, pulling his fingers out of his mouth and quietly letting Mycroft use Sherlock's hand to point out each of the body parts on the drawing in the book. Mycroft smiled and kissed his brother's forehead. The three year old giggled sleepily and the older boy put a bookmark in.
"We can continue the systemic veins tomorrow, Sherlock."
Sherlock whined softly and snuggled close to Mycroft, putting his fingers back in his mouth. Mycroft smiled and turned off the light, pulling the blankets over them and pulling his brother close.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would try harder to be normal and make Sherlock seem normal. Tomorrow he would be good and Sherlock would be good and they would finally get adopted. Tomorrow.
John yawned as he pulled Gray's Anatomy out of his bookshelf and opened it to a random page. God, he felt so old. He had read this book ages ago in Uni. He ran his fingers over the words. Most of the veins of the heart open into the coronary sinus. This is a wide venous channel about 2.25 cm. in length situated in the posterior part of the coronary sulcus, and covered by muscular fibers from the left atrium.
His phone rang loudly, jarring him from his thoughts. He picked up the phone and opened it, pressing it to his ear as he put down his book. "Hello?"
"John, it's Greg."
John smiled and sat down in his chair. He had met Greg, a copper, at a pub, where they had bonded over their favorite football teams. It quickly became a weekly thing, if Greg hadn't been called into work for a murder.
"Hello, Greg. Are you going to have to cancel tomorrow's drinking?"
"No, no. I just remembered that you were looking to adopt some kids, and I met these two orphans…"
Mycroft held his little brother's hand tightly as he sat in his spot, watching the adults who were talking with the kids. Most of them couldn't have kids on their own for one reason or another. A few had come to talk to them, but after Mycroft slipped up - for the third time that day he said he was going to be better for Sherlock it had been months but he still slipped up he had to try harder harder- no one had come by, seeing how the other adults reacted to them. Sherlock was quiet, alternating between fidgeting, looking around at the kids and adults, and looking at Mycroft.
Mycroft sighed and leaned over, kissing Sherlock's forehead. "No one's going to take us today," he said quietly, squeezing the younger boy's hand, telling him silently that it was okay. They had each other.
The door opened and a man hobbled in, leaning heavily on a cane. Mycroft looked him over quietly. Ex-army, discharged honorably due to injuries. Doctor, most likely. Single. He had hesitated at the door, wondering if he could really give a kid a good home. A good man who would take good care of the child he adopted. And he hadn't seen Mycroft slip up yet.
Sherlock started to fidget more when Mycroft stiffened. The doctor looked around, talking to some other kids quietly, getting to know them, before ending up in front of Mycroft and Sherlock. Mycroft went to stand up, but sat back down as the doctor slowly lowered himself to kneel in front of them. He was a very good man. Mycroft couldn't slip up.
"No one has come by to talk to you two yet, as far as I can tell," the doctor frowned, "Are you okay?"
Mycroft could have exploded. He was at least somewhat observant, and he was worried that they weren't feeling well. Mycroft shook his head.
"No, we're fine."
The doctor smiled at them.
"Alright. I'm John Watson. What are your names?"
Mycroft took a deep breath.
"I'm Mycroft and this is Sherlock, Dr. Watson."
"Those are odd names."
Doctor Watson was smiling knowingly. Why?
"I've been told they are, Dr. Watson."
"Well, Mycroft. Tell me how you knew I was a Doctor."
Mycroft froze. He had slipped up, again. He apologized mentally to Sherlock and sighed softly.
"My knew 'cause he's smart and actuwy wooks at peopwe," Sherlock said, moving closer to Mycroft. Mycroft wrapped an arm around his brother.
"I simply observed it from the details around you," he explained.
Doctor Watson, instead of looking shocked, or angry, or freaked out, smiled at the two. "Well, that's very interesting. And brilliant. You're both brilliant."
Mycroft almost gaped at him as he stood up slowly, still smiling. "And I think I'd like to take you two home with me."
Mycroft waited with the fidgety Sherlock at the door as Doctor Watson paid the taxi driver, before picking up the boys' suitcases and taking them to the door to wait with the boys as John unlocked the door.
The door swung open to reveal the inside of the house that Mycroft and his brother would be living in for at least the next two months.
The house smelled like Doctor Watson – jam and toast and books and medicine – and was extremely clean. Doctor Watson herded Mycroft, Sherlock and their two suitcases into the house and closed the door behind them. "Welcome home," he said quietly, smiling at the two.
Mycroft stood there, looking around, as Sherlock wiggled his hand out of Mycroft's and ran about to explore. Doctor Watson smiled at him. "Do you like it?" he asked, watching Sherlock out of the corner of his eye. Mycroft relaxed a bit. Doctor Watson already knew to keep a close eye on Sherlock. Good.
"It's very nice," Mycroft said quietly. He shouldn't get too comfortable yet. If Doctor Watson decided that he didn't want them in the next two months, he could send them back with no hassle. It was just a trial period.
Doctor Watson smiled at him. "Do you two want separate rooms, or do you want to share a room? I have enough rooms for both."
Mycroft looked over at Sherlock, who was looking at wonder at Doctor Watson's professional books. "Share," he said quietly. Doctor Watson picked up the suitcases again.
"Come on, Sherlock. Come see your new room!"
Sherlock turned away from the books and ran back over to them, taking Mycroft's hand again and following them into their room. It was large, and held a bookshelf, a desk, and a bed. Doctor Watson put the suitcases down. "I can bring Sherlock's bed in here tomorrow, but you might have to share tonight."
Mycroft just nodded, a bit stuck by how large it was. Sherlock looked around in wide-eyed awe.
Doctor Watson picked up Sherlock and smiled at them both. "Now what would you two like for dinner?"