Chapter one

As a child, Victoria Watson-Holmes did not speak much. She spoke to her older brother, whom her trust went fully to. She spoke to her parents, and she did not utter a word to anyone else until she was fourteen. Later they would find out that the only reason they were chosen to be spoken to was because they had each promised her that she would be safe. Perhaps these were the only people she felt were trustworthy enough to hear her voice. At first her lack of speech worried John, but it was soon dismissed as social anxiety. They took her to a therapist, which as Sherlock pointed out, would do nothing as she would not talk to him. But now she was sixteen, a much more confident age for herself. She was not frightened of being rejected or trampled or being intimidated. As if anyone would dare intimidate Hamish's baby sister. Victoria was always a bit introverted, preferred to stay in her room surrounded with the mountains of books she has already read, whereas Hamish wasn't as good at academics as she was but took to sports much better, which was fine with her parents. He was doing what he liked and not a lot of people bothered him. People don't just walk up to a Rugby player and try to start a fight, even the dumbest kids in this god forsaken school wouldn't go near him. At times she hated being in his shadow like that. Some kids were idiotic enough to come up to her just to irk her brother. That's what she hated most, the daft children threatening her. This was one of those times. One of those times where she wished she was strong enough to make it hurt if she slapped someone, but as it turns out, holding books up with one hand all day still doesn't give you any upper body strength. The boy who stood in front of her was two years her senior, in her brothers age class. Eighteen. She had seen him in the hallways, his name was Victor. He had planned to graduate this year. Perhaps go to Uni. Fail to make it into anyplace even remotely decent and end up in America in the world's top party school.

"Where's brother dearest?" He asked, He towered over her, but she was hardly intimidated.

She tossed her black ringlets of hair off of her shoulder so she could fix her bag's strap. She rolled her eyes at him, Victoria was far too clever to be dealing with someone so immensely stupid. She never understood teenage boys and their need to feel more superior to the other. And somehow she gets caught in the crossfire? Unfair. Completely and utterly unfair.

"You are not entertaining me. You are not amusing any other person in this hallway. Actually, I believe you are annoying a few. Including me. Brother Dearest is wherever he chooses to be at this point in time, I am not his mother nor am I his keeper," Victoria returned sharply, her tone calm and collected. Sherlock always told her that she sounded like Mycroft when she did that.

The dark haired girl turned to push past him, not wanting to be near him or in this part of the hallway anymore. It was already beginning to ebb at her brain cells, this boy's presence. To Victoria's surprise the boy's very large hand shot out and grabbed her shoulder, preventing her from moving any further. She stilled.

"Oh but your brother does adore you. " Said Victor, "Why should I waste this chance I have with you right now?" Victor asked, his fingers digging somewhat painfully into her shoulder blade.

Victoria bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out. Thankfully she spied Hamish, who was to walk home with her today. She said nothing, just let him squeeze her shoulder blade. Instead she looked up at him with amusement displayed on her face, there was no denying it.

A hand rested on Victor's wrist, "Is that my sister?" Came the first person she had ever trusted.

She felt the hand tighten slightly and then let go of her all together, shoving her away from him. Victoria grinned at Victor, "Oh, there is brother dearest."

Hamish raised an eyebrow as if to say 'Really, Vic? Brother dearest? He called me brother dearest?' Victoria just nodded, incredibly amused at the situation as a whole, despite the bruises she would receive from his dirty, petulant fingers.

Hamish twisted the wrist backwards, only slightly, "You are an idiot." He said before Victor cried out and Hamish let go, "It's only a sprain, but you won't touch my sister again with that hand." He said, his voice portraying the obvious amusement on Victoria's face.

Victor said nothing, just walked away, he was angry. Definitely angry, but he was not strong enough or clever enough to fight Hamish. He was only smart enough to know his limits there. Victoria pushed her glasses up on her nose and turned to her brother before walking towards the exit of the school, small giggles bubbling into her mouth and past her lips.

Hamish didn't need to be told to follow her, He just did, and if she was ready to go home he wasn't going to stop her. There didn't have to be words exchanged. They had spoken about it on the way to school. Victoria's hair flew about her face on the short walk home, the breeze picking up every once in a while. The spring air was quite refreshing to anyone who paid enough attention to notice.

When they were almost home, about a block away, Victoria did what she always did, she took her shoes off and slipped them into her bag and turned to walk backwards look at Hamish, "Do you think I can beat you home today?" She asked. She never has before, and the race that occurred every day was very childish but they enjoyed it.

"No," answered Hamish with the pride of an athlete.

"Want to try?" She asked curtsying for his amusement.

"Of course milady." He teased.

And off she went, sprinting forward. Hamish let Victoria take off and run for a few seconds before going after her, his sneakers slapping against the pavement. Victoria ran in the grass, her bare feet couldn't stand to be slapped against the pavement brutally like that, and her flats were hardly running shoes. When they crossed the street successfully and made it back to the house, Hamish, breathing perfectly fine and 10 seconds faster than Victoria who was panting softly, they stepped in.

"Dad?" Hamish called but there was no answer, only silence.