"This boy here, a John Watson, is your son."

Sherlock stared in disbelief. Taking in all the information he could about the boy. Glancing down, he realised he must be 10 or 11. However he appeared smaller then the usual height. Probably down to malnutrition, lack of calcium and now, thinking about it his so called 'mother' was quite short. Most of it might have been down to genetics then, he silently deduced. So if he was 10 or 11 he just had to work out how old he was when he 'met' Miss Watson. Sherlock silently cringed, how old was he? Had he deleted his age...again? No! He was at least in his late 20's, 29? So he 'met' Miss Watson when he was about 18 or 19. Ah! Sherlock's brain screamed at him. He remembered it, of course he did. She was a fairly attractive women and he knew all about the chemicals released. So he tried it. Sherlock kept staring in disbelief his 'son' being abused was all his fault. Then why wasn't he told?

"Mycroft why wasn't I informed that I had a...son?" He gazed upon his older brother. Anger and sadness seemed to be spilling off of his tongue.

"Lets just say Miss Watson had a big number of one off 'acquaintances'. She didn't appear to know and didn't want to."

Sherlock just stared, as if an abyss was slowly approaching him and he could do nothing to stop it.

Out of nowhere he found his voice.

"Mycroft what happened to John? Obviously he was abused, but what did that women..." He spat out that word with hate. "...do to him?" His normal confident voice has disappeared and turned into a small timid one.

"Sherlock..." Lestrade spoke up, warning him.

Sherlock ignored him and looked up at his brother.

"He has multiple injuries. Bruises cover a lot of his body, including his face. After Miss Watson shot him, he has sustained a shoulder injury, but he should be able to move it. He has..." Mycroft hesitated at this bit, "...he has belt marks, very deep belt marks on his back and some of his arms. He also...has burn marks, some severe some not so. Also knife marks and cigarette burns cover some of his body."

Sherlock face had fallen and Lestrade didn't point out that Mycroft had kept calling the women Miss Watson, instead of John's mum.

"Miss Watson did want the child, however she thought it was going to be easier. Nobody supported her and..." Mycroft stopped as Sherlock continued to stare into an empty void. Of course he wasn't interested in that aspect, not yet anyway.

"Sherlock..." He raised his voice slightly louder and pulled him out of thought. "...you have a decision to make and this decision needs a lot of thought. I cannot offer you my advice, as this is your own. However I can tell you that I will support you no matter what you decide. I am sure Detective Inspector Lestrade will also support you.

Sherlock smiled at his brother and nodded at him and Lestrade. He then walked out the room.

"What decision does he have to make?" Greg asked Mycroft.

Mycroft looked upon him, "whether he wants to look after John himself or if a children's home would be best for him."

Lestrade wiped his hand up and down my face and sighed. Mycroft noticed this.

"No matter how much I may look down upon my brother's behaviour, I do worry about him. I do..." This came out harder for Mycroft. "...care about him. He has a very high intellectual capacity and I'm sure he will choose whatever is best for him and John."

Lestrade, startled, looked up at Mycroft and accidentally looked at him, directly in the eye. He gazed down, quickly.

"Yeah. Sherlock might be a annoying prat at most times, but at least he's an intelligent annoying prat."

Mycroft laughed at this and Greg joined in.

"I'm quite thirsty would you care to join me in having a drink?" Mycroft suddenly asked.

"A d-drink?" Lestrade's eyebrows went wide.

"Tea, coffee, hot chocolate, if you prefer." His eyebrows burrowing

"Umm yeah sure."

"I know an excellent cafe down the street." Mycroft said, smiling, as he started walking out the door.

"Wait! Shouldn't we wait for Sherlock?"

"He'll text me when he's decided and we both know he'd prefer us not to be here."

Lestrade just nodded and walked out as well.