Even though he was only seven or perhaps because of it, Mycroft Holmes knew from the minute his little brother was born that Sherlock would need looking after whether he liked it or not. Sherlock was an observant child and his deductions often got him into trouble at school.

"Sherlock, do you have to be so, mouthy all the time?"

"I'm just telling people the truth, it's not my fault they're all stupid!"

"You know that and I know that but the rest of the world doesn't. So stop saying every little thing that pops into you're head!"

When Sherlock got to secondary school, his still had no idea how to hold his tongue. Mycroft was in university and very slowly starting to make headway into the inner workings of the British government. He would often go on long trips, leaving Sherlock to tend to their mother.

"Mycroft, do you have to leave?"

"Yes, Sherlock, I do. It's my job. I can't just not go."

"When are you coming back?"

"When things have been sorted out! Just look after Mummy!"

Sherlock reached university and only got into more and more trouble. He was hated by his peers for his powers of deduction. Often he was bored. Soon he was too bored. He started smoking cigarettes and eventually began to get into more serious drugs. He broke himself off from Mycroft, but Mycroft still kept his eye on the young man.

"Mister, you've got to help me. Please, I need to get home."

"Look kid, I'm not a taxi."

"Please, I think I'm about to pass out."

"Alright, get in the car. What's your name and where do you live?"

Then Sherlock met DI Lestrade. To Mycroft's relief, Lestrade was able to help put Sherlock on the right track. Soon Sherlock was rid of everything except the nicotine addiction. He began putting his genius to work as a consulting detective. Then Sherlock met Mrs. Hudson.

"Mrs. Hudson, I need a place to stay."

"You know, I have that nice flat right upstairs. I can give you a special deal."

Then he met John Watson, the retired army doctor who saw the detective for what he really was.

"Is that what you do? Risk your life to prove your clever?"

"And why would I do that?"

"Because you're an idiot."

Mycroft continued to watch his younger brother. He watched Jim Moriarty weave his webs around Sherlock. He watched as Moriarty spun his tale.

"But be honest. You're just a tiny bit pleased."

"What, with the verdict?

"With me. Back on the streets. Every fairy tale needs a good old fashioned villain."

Then Mycroft blinked. He blinked for no more then a second but in that second, Sherlock was gone...