Chapter 1

John detested being a hedgehog some days. It limited him. It made him not be able to do things that he desperately wanted to be able to. 'Hedgehogs have an important part here in the glen,' he heard over and over from the other animals about him. He certainly didn't believe them. If anything, especially more recently, hedgehogs were pushed aside and completely underestimated. There were many days where John would venture out to see how he could help his community and he would be pushed aside and told to go home. Being frustrated with his lack of abilities, he set to making a list of things that he was determined to someday complete in order to feel like he was a useful being and not one that was just taking up space.

He kept his list simple, so that he had a better and more realistic chance of reaching his goals. His list contained three goals that he felt were vital to him and would help him to feel better. The first goal was that he wanted a friend. Sure there were a lot of animals in the glen that would stop and chat with him momentarily, or say a passing 'hello', but none could truly be called his friend. He was a hedgehog. Hedgehogs were looked at as the bottom of the ladder, so therefore, no one wanted to be friends with someone on the bottom rung of the animal community they lived in. The second thing on John's list was to be important. He knew that he wasn't viewed as important in this society, and he didn't necessarily want people to fawn over his every move, but just wanted his existence to be noticed. The final and third thing on John's list was to be able to be a hero. It kind of fell in line with his second goal, but he felt it should be separate because being noticed for existing and being a hero were two completely different things.

The day that John's list began to go to pass started out the same as any other day. John was walking about and trying to be helpful, but wasn't allowed to help out with anything. He was too short, too slow, or too in the way to be of assistance. Grumbling to himself, John was making his way back to his family's home when he noticed an odd creature near the edge of the glen. Stopping in his tracks, he slowly swiveled his head to watch the creature. This creature didn't look like all of the other animals that John was use to seeing. This creature had a large body in which the upper portion rested up against a large tree; arms tucked neatly behind the head. Two long legs stretched out in front of the creature as he gazed up at the sky above him. What was this creature? He had never seen one like that before out here. Well, besides the clearers, but he wasn't even sure if they were from the same family at this point. The clearers always came in to destroy their habitat with large chainsaws and suits. This creature looked like he wouldn't harm a fly nor had a care in the world.

John slowly started to make his way towards the creature. Everything in him was screaming at him to turn back and don't go that way, but he couldn't stop himself. He just had to meet this fascinating creature and see if he was dangerous or not. As he slowly made his way closer to the creature, he heard words start to leave his mouth. The timber of the sounds that left his mouth caused John to gape up at the creature in awe.

"You're twenty one. You should do something with your life..." grumbled the creature as he dug out a small square pack from his pocket. He flicked it open and John watched as he withdrew a small orange tube. "Who are they to judge me?"

John watched from a slight distance as the creature put the tube in his mouth and then proceeded to withdraw a metal rectangle that he flicked the top off of, causing a spark of fire to appear. Not being able to stop himself, he let out a nervous squeak. Fire was bad. It caused destruction. As he watched the creature bring the flame closer to the tube, he knew that he had to stop him. No creature so magnificent should soil themselves in that manner. Springing into immediate action, John waddled over to the creature as fast as he could and managed to jump up onto a fallen log nearby, jumping onto the creature's chest and knocking the tube away before the flame could reach it.

The creature spluttered in shock as he put the rectangle fire stick away and John froze in terror on his chest. He kept panicking and wondering why he had done such an impulsive thing. He was terrified of what this creature might do to him now; worried he might be angry about him knocking away the tube. John slowly swiveled his head to look at the creature and noticed that the creature was looking at him with his brows narrowed. The creature tried to reach a hand towards him, and he immediately shied away in fear. The creature smiled softly then, and spoke directly to him.

"I won't hurt you..." he said gently. "I promise."

The only words that John could understand at that moment were "hurt you" since the clearers that kept coming into the woods kept talking about how they weren't going to "hurt" anything and they were doing this so "you animals" could live in a safer area, away from them.

Seeing that he was still afraid, the creature pointed a hand at his chest and said slowly, "I'm Sherlock. Who are you?"

So this creature was a "Sherlock". Interesting. John looked down at his stubby paws and, since he didn't have the proper dexterity to bring it up to his chest like the Sherlock, he patted the Sherlock's chest.

"I'm a hedgehog. A hedgehog named John," he said, but it only came out as a squeak.

The Sherlock chuckled at John's attempt of introduction. His genuine smile was what was slowly beginning to win John over. He was beginning to think that maybe this Sherlock was safe, and that maybe he didn't have to be afraid. As Sherlock brought his hand closer to John once more, he allowed him to gently touch him, making sure his bristles didn't hurt him at all.

"Do you have a family?" asked the Sherlock.

"Family" was the only word that John could pick up on there, and he swiveled his head back towards his home. He did have a loving animal community that was suppose to make up his family, but he didn't feel like a part of it at all. He was still living at home with his parents, and was friendless and jobless a good majority of the time. He shook his head in a 'no'. John thought that maybe it would be better for him if he tried to attempt a fresh start.

The Sherlock looked at John in thought for a minute more before removing the scarf from about his neck. He turned it into a small nest and held it out in front of John as a sort of offering. John was in awe at the blue mass before him; the blue mass that looked as soft as the clouds that John was always looking up at. Inching forward slowly, John soon burrowed into the blue softness and let out a small squeak of contentment, looking up at the Sherlock with a small smile. He liked this creature.

"How about you come home with me?" asked the Sherlock gently as he slowly rose to his feet, keeping the blue scarf nest and John close to his chest to protect him.

As the creature rose from the ground and John rose higher and higher into the air, he let out a small squeak of fear and tried to burrow deeper into the blue material for safety. The Sherlock chuckled as he looked down at the frightened hedgehog in his hands.

"Don't be scared. You're safe. I'm taking you to a new home."

"New home." "Safe". Both words that John clung to desperately now. Not fighting the Sherlock's hold, he allowed himself to relax in the nest again, and lay down to rest. Seeing John settle down in his hands, the Sherlock smiled and slowly began to walk back down the path in the direction of his parent's house. The Sherlock didn't realize he left his now unlit rectangle fire stick and square box of tubes behind by the tree trunk.

"I'll have to sneak you in the back door. I can't let my parents see you. Or Mycroft for that matter. Oh, if Mycroft sees you, he'll become quite quarrelsome with me. 'You're twenty one. You should be getting a job, not out getting a pet,' he'll more than likely say to me. Oh, he always thinks that he's better than me because he's seven years my senior, so that's why I like playing tricks on him when I can. Like the time I..."

John looked up at the creature as he continued to let the foreign sound fall from his mouth. John didn't understand most of what the Sherlock was saying, but he didn't care. He was happy and content for the first time in a long time. Looking past the Sherlock up at the blue sky above him, John relaxed more. Oh, how he wished that he could be like this magnificent creature that was carrying him towards a new life and new start. He wished it with all his heart, and you know what they say about wishes of that sort. They almost, most definitely, come to pass.