A/N: If you're reading this, I'm incredibly grateful! I love constructive criticism as well as praise, so review away :)

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, BBC does :P

Nine year old John Watson glared suspiciously at the sleek black car pulling up to the dingy building. His dirty blonde hair hung nearly to his chin and his oversized jumper hung from his small frame. His big sister Harriet put her hand on his shoulder.

"John, the Holmes family is taking us in. You mustn't be so fussy. You'll actually get real meals multiple times per day and you'll get a clean bed."

"But Harry, what if they're like our parents were? What if they're snobbity and mean? What if their sons don't like us and they try to hurt you? Don't worry though, they shan't, I'll protect you."

Harry smiled gently as she brushed her long brown hair behind her ear.

"Calm down, it'll be alright. They certainly aren't going to treat us like mum and dad did. I promise it'll be okay."

"If you say so."

John and Harriet were escorted outside to the car by a tall man in a suit. He seemed surprised that they had only a garbage bag of things between them. The drive took too long for John's liking; he fidgeted until Harry stopped him, then counted the passing cars. After he'd counted about 500 cars, they halted at the entrance to a huge house. Clambering out of the car, John gawked for a moment at the size of the building before noticing the lovely woman walking toward them. Instinctively, he moved just a hair in front of his sister to keep her from injury.

"Hello dears, I'm Westeria Holmes, but you can call me most anything. I'm very pleased that you are coming to live with my boys and me."

The woman seemed fairly harmless, so John took the hand she offered and shook it. Mrs. Holmes could tell immediately that the o had severe trust issues. He looked closer to Sherlock's age than his own and was obviously very malnourished. Harriet's hand rested firmly on her brother's shoulder. She acted closer to an adult than her own 12 years. Shaking her head slightly at the sad children before her, Westeria led the pair to meet their new brothers.


Mycroft and Sherlock waited in the hall for their mother to introduce their new siblings. Running his hands through his brownish red hair, Mycroft wondered if the girl Harriet would like reading in the library and educated discussion. Sherlock debated the likelihood of the boy being a pirate in disguise or someone else of interest. Finally, the door swung open and the four children studied their new siblings intently, not realizing the impact they would have in each others lives.