A/N: This chapter makes me smile and want to cry all at once, I hope you guys love it :) leave me a kind review? Or a critical one, either way is fine.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters,

I just shrunk them down a bit.

The first couple weeks of school passed quickly. John avoided the attention of any mean children and Sherlock avoided the others altogether. Unfortunately, the younger boy couldn't hide forever. Sherlock cowered behind a rubbish bin, ignoring the awful smell. Suddenly two small hands grabbed his collar and forced him out of his hiding place.

"Hey freak, we found you, now we're gonna pound you," Anderson taunted.

Sherlock struggled to free himself from the taller boy's grasp. He almost escaped when Anderson pulled an arm back to punch him, but didn't quite avoid the knuckles slamming into his mouth. Anderson was eight, although he was in the seven year old class. He hated Sherlock's brilliance and took every chance to torment the kid for it. Drawing back for another blow, Anderson smiled at the blood dripping off Sherlock's lip. Before he could swing, a hand grabbed his arm.

"Let go of him," John demanded.

"Why?"

"Because I said so. You've busted his lip and probably dirtied his collar."

Anderson let go and turned to face the spoilsport. At the sight of the slightly taller, skinny boy, he rolled his eyes. The death glare on John's face soon changed the scorn to fear, and he dashed away with Sally in tow.

"Sherlock, are you alright?" John asked hurrying toward his little brother.

Sherlock nodded, not trusting his voice. Before he could try to get John to leave, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He slowly looked up to meet his brother's worried gaze.

"Here, let me wipe up your lip and see how bad it is. Don't bother protesting, it won't stop me."

Sherlock submitted with reluctance as John poured some water on a handkerchief and gently dabbed the blood off his lip. The split was very small but very painful. After finishing with the lip, John wiped some blood off his patient's chin and tried to remove it from his shirt.

"You really should go see the nurse."

"Why? It was just a little punch to the lip, I'm fine now," Sherlock protested.

John shook his head.

"You know what I think?" Sherlock continued, "I think you're going to be a doctor when you grow up."

"Maybe if I'm very lucky," John responded with a chuckle, "now, come on, I'll walk you to the nurse."

Sherlock followed John to the nurse's office, shuffling his feet as he walked. When they reached the door, John turned.

"Do you want me to come explain what happened?" John asked gently, noticing the nervousness on the younger boy's face.

Sherlock nodded, then took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The nurse kindly listened to John's story. She took note of the incident and complemented John for helping Sherlock out. Finally turning to look at the lip, which had started bleeding again, she seemed surprised at how well Sherlock handled the situation.

"Well dear, your lip ought to be fine after I put a little ointment on it. Don't do too much talking this afternoon because that could cause it start up again. I'm glad your friend here caught that bully."

"My brother certainly got me out of a tight place," agreed the little boy calmly, accenting the word brotherMLIA

The nurse glanced back and forth between the boys for a moment, trying to glimpse a similarity.

"I'm adopted," John supplied.

The nurse quickly finished with Sherlock's lip. When the boys left the office, they hustled in different directions to get to their classrooms. John radiated anger at the boy who dared to touch his amazing little brother. Sherlock's attitude of nonchalance covered the damage the bullies caused, both psychically and emotionally.