Hello everyone! Thanks for clicking on my fic. Like I said in the summary, this is a pre-series AU where John and Sherlock are teens. The year is 1991. John is 14, Sherlock is 12. This story will contain cursing and scenes of bullying. There will also be some adolescent homophobic comments and corporal punishment later on (I'll put notices at the start of these chapters). This one was lots of fun to write and I hope you like it :)

John Watson was an orphan. It was okay, though. A lot of kids were orphans, and not so many of them had it as well as John did. John lived with the other orphans in a communal home (not an orphanage, thanks) that housed children ages five to eighteen. He made friends easily and got along with the other kids. He knew how to throw a punch and stand his ground, which helped too. No one stayed very long at the home though, at least not 14 year olds like him. Everyone helped out with chores and small tasks around the house. Everyone had basic schooling taught by either the counselors or real teachers that volunteered. The younger kids were more or less limited to the house, but teenagers were able to go out into 'real world' as John's counselor called it, and work. They could make some money, they could get job experience, and if they were very, very lucky, they would go to real school and possibly get adopted.

"John," Steve, John's counselor, opened his office door and invited him inside. It was a shabby office on the first floor, all dark walls and tired floor. Steve tried to spruce it up by adding paintings and posters depicting kittens hanging from branches with little sayings like 'hang in there!' that were supposed to inspirational. John sat on the metal folding chair in front of Steve's desk. "There's an opening for a job in that I think you might be suited for."

"Oh really?" John perked up. His last job had been in the heart of London washing dishes at a Korean restaurant under the supervision of the overbearing, loud owner who liked to screech Korean obscenities at him, slap at his hands with a flyswatter and make him rewash perfectly sparkling dishes. The thought of a different job was more than appealing.

"It would be," Steve's fingers flew over his big grey boxy computer's keyboard as he spoke, "working for a family up in Essex. You would be working specifically under their horse master."

"Horses?" John said, pained. "I don't really know anything about horses."

"I know, but," Steve pushed up his glasses, "you're a quick learner. You've flown through the home curriculum and read every school text book laying around this place, and I think your temperament is suited to working with animals."

John was quite. Steve stopped typing. "Look, I know Essex is far, but this is a good opportunity, John. They pay well."

"They?"

"The family. The Holmes'. It says here they have two sons."

"Fine." John said. "I'll give it a try, but if either of those posh brats try to mess with me, I'll drop them like rocks."

"Please don't." Steve said nonchalantly. "You get into enough fights here." He looked disapprovingly over his glasses at John, the freshest incident clear in his mind. It should be clear. Steve was the one who had stopped the fistfight and suffered an accidentally punched belly for his trouble.

"Hey, Nathan was being a jerk. He was picking on Sarah." John groused.

"No fighting." Steve said. "If you take this job, someone will be here tomorrow to pick you up."

"Tomorrow? How long will I be gone?"

"They want someone for a whole term. You'd be on probation for a few weeks, and if they keep you, you're there until your term runs out‒one year." They spoke the last two words together.

"Sure, why not?" John stood up. Nathan was getting on his nerves anyway and he wanted to get away for a while. Who knew? Maybe this job would be really good.