Felix trudged up the stairs to 221B with his mother is pursuit. Only now after returning from the hospital, he was beginning to feel the effects of only having one eye useable. A boy at preschool had been echoing his parent's remarks about Felix's parentage and claiming that both Sherlock and Molly were freaks from experience of both sets of parents working together. The three year old grew offended and robotically defended his parents. But being his father's son, he was intellectually advanced and had already deduced that things weren't happy at home for the other boy. In retrospect he shouldn't have voiced his thoughts on the matter in retaliation. It had cost him a cut across his left eye, which quickly got infected.

Molly had been at home that day, relaxing in her fifth month of her third (and hopefully final) pregnancy, when she received the phone call from her youngest sons preschool. She had rushed to the school to examine her son. Being a former doctor, before becoming a pathologist, she knew that Felix's eye was indeed infected and that he needed to go to the hospital. She took him to the children's ward of Saint Bart's Hospital, which also happened to be her place of work. The doctor had cleaned the wound and prescribed antibiotics to heal up the infection. To reduce the strain on the eye, the doctor had to cover his eye with a plaster to block the light. Molly had been instructed to change the plaster every three days for the next five weeks.

Before taking Felix to the hospital she had phoned her husband and informed him what had happened and had asked him to collect their eldest son, Fabian, from school as it was the end of the school day. As they entered the living room of 221B, the sight they were greeted with was Sherlock pacing across the width of the room glancing over at several case files tacked on the wall above the sofa. The family knew not to disturb him when he was working, so they silently worked around him. Molly placed Felix's school bag under the coat rack she had just hung her navy jacket on. Felix grumpily launched himself onto the sofa beneath his fathers work notes. He buried his face in a cushion to hide the vibrant blue plaster he detested. "It doesn't look bad honey." Molly sighed slipping past her husband and sitting on the sofa next to Felix. Felix grumbled something unintelligible into the cushion. "Felix I can't hear you if you cover your face." The little boy sat up and stared at his mother.

"Don't lie mama. It looks awful, and it feels even worse." He mumbled, repeating what he had said into the cushion. Sherlock turned to engage his family. "It looks fine Felix. Besides its necessary in order for your eye to heal." Sherlock dropped onto the sofa and lifted Felix into his lap. The boy buried his face in his father's chest.

"I thought you were on a case." Molly stated, moving a hand unconsciously to her baby bump.

"I solved that an hour before I collected Fabian." He replied, after leaning over to press a kiss to his wife's temple. He delicately stroked her belly, before entwining their hands over their unborn child.

"What were you looking at on the wall then?"

"Experiment notes. I need to check on the results at Bart's."

"Okay, just don't get mad at the temporary pathologist. Whatever your problem is, it's not her fault. Where's Fabian?"

Before Sherlock could respond, Fabian came bounding through the door. His curls bounced as he dropped to floor at his mother's feet. He leaned against her legs. "Hello!" He said before book marking his paperback and resting his head on Molly's knees. He looked at her upside down. She smiled warmly down at him. He had always been slightly eccentric, just like his father in many ways. "How was school?" She asked him. He threw himself into a long monologue explaining how he had found dead mouse at school and how he examined it whilst tying to conclude the creature's cause of death. When he had finished describing the gruesome detail of a plausible hawk attack, he turned around and looked towards Felix, who was still sulking into Sherlock's torso. "Alright solider?" He asked his younger brother, in their military game voice. Felix responded to his brother who was his very best friend. He turned to look at him. Fabian could tell Felix didn't like his current injury but decided to make it fun to cheer his little brother up.

"Wow!" He cried. "You're a real solider like Uncle John! You have your very own war wound!" He grinned at Felix. Felix laughed wearily. Fabian looked to his father. The pair exchanged a silent conversation to which Sherlock then asked, "Do you know what real soldiers do?" Felix looked backwards and forwards between his father and brother. They both said simultaneously, "They build forts!" The grin that spread across the young boys face was genuine this time.

oOo

Immediately, the three male occupants of 221B leapt into action. They searched the width and breadth of the flat for all of the duvets, blankets and pillows they could find. Molly participated by drawing the curtains, to shut out the dimming daylight of the bustling streets of London. As night drew closer, the three boys piled the cushions up to create walls. Sherlock even moved the sofa and armchairs closer in create a sturdier fort. They draped the duvets over the top of the enclosure. To accommodate Sherlock's height, they used to unloaded harpoon gun Sherlock had acquired in one of his cases, to hold up the middle of the duvet. It created a canopy that reminded Molly of a circus tent she had visited as a child.

Molly had left her boys to their creativity, trusting Sherlock to be the grown up if need be. But even though she had let it slide, the harpoon gun frightened her to the core. Whilst her small family continued with their construction, she departed for the kitchen and baked a batch of brownies to occupy her time. Since the birth of their first child, Molly had morphed into a stronger motherly figure. She lost some, if not nearly all of her timid persona, and had genuinely become more respected. As night enclosed over London and the stars began to shine, Molly left her cooking in the oven and ventured down the steps of their flat. She knocked on Mrs Hudson's door and, after explaining what the family were doing; they both looked for Molly's desired objects. It didn't take long to find them, considering Mrs Hudson was extremely organised.

When Molly returned to the flat, her brownies had finished cooking. Once they were boxed she headed towards the fort that took up the entire living room. Hearing the voices of her husband and children playing war games, she raised her voice to say, "Am I aloud in?"

oOo

Both boys froze, before turning towards their father. Still in full swing of their imagination game Fabian whispered, "The war zone is no place for a lady. Especially one carrying a baby!" Sherlock raised his eyebrows, still pretending with his children. "No it isn't." He replied protectively. Molly heard this exchange from outside the tent.

"I come bearing brownies and fairy lights." She taunted. Felix's eyes lit up.

"We can protect her! Come in mama!" He cried, moving over to the makeshift door. Molly crawled in a sat next to her husband and passed the plastic container to her boys and the box of lights to her husband.

"Not too many!" Molly instructed as the boys began to eat the food. Sherlock smiled at Molly, before they both began to hang the lights from the canopy using the Velcro Molly had had the sense to bring. When they were finished, they moved back together and Molly leant into Sherlock's side. When the boys were done with the brownies they faced their parents and watched as their mother and father made their fort that much more magical. Strings of blue and green twisted together above them while rows of red bulbs twinkled in the darkness.

Felix turned to watch his mama and daddy while they embraced each other. In that moment he forgot about the sting in his injured eye. It was worth suffering, if it meant defending his mother and father. They weren't freaks. They were perfect in everyway. He wouldn't change them for the world.

FIN. -Jess