Sherlock was outside school, waiting for the children to be released. He was bundled up in his thick coat, and scarf. Molly was standing next to him, holding his hand, and waiting.

"Sherlock, I'm freezing." She had been unwell that day, and was looking a bit pale. Sherlock pulled her to his arms, and wrapped his open coat around her. She leaned into his warm body. Despite his too-thin appearance, his body temperature ran hotter than the rest of the human population.

"Molly, you've got a fever." Sherlock said. She snuggled deeper into his coat. Sherlock held her tighter. At 3:20, students poured from the doors of the school building, running towards older siblings, parents, or both. Sherlock looked around for Jonah.

"We'll take you home, so John can look you over for me." She nodded against his chest. Children ran, saying goodbye to friends and teachers as they ran. Jonah came out, alone, and hanging his head. He found Sherlock, and silently walked towards Sherlock. They went, hailed a cab, and went back to 221B Baker Street, watching London pass by in a flurry of colors. Before they got to the flat, Sherlock turned to Jonah. "How was school?"

"Fine." He didn't sound like it was fine. Sherlock and Molly looked concerned.

"What is it?"

"Nothing." He said.

"Son, something is bothering you. Do you not like your teacher?"

"No, I do."

"Is it the lunch I made you? Was it bad?"

"No, I liked it."

"Just a bad day?"

"Dad, every day seems like a bad day." Jonah said, sounding like a teenager instead of a six year old. Sherlock looked surprised.

"How so? Not enough crayons?" Sherlock joked. Jonah shot a dirty look at Sherlock, who looked at his son in surprise.

"Jonah, just tell me." Sherlock had sat in the middle between Molly and Jonah. The cab had pulled to the curb. Sherlock was getting the money out.

"I hate school!" Jonah shouted, and ran. Sherlock threw the notes at the cabbie, and ran after his son. Molly followed.

"Jonah!" Sherlock shouted. "Come here." They ran up the stairs, and into the flat, where Jonah sat, crying. Mary, John, and Lucy looked at him in surprise.

"Jonah, honey, what's wrong?" Molly asked.

"I hate school. People are mean to me, they don't talk to me. I don't even have friends." Jonah sobbed. "I want to stay home."

"Look, son." Sherlock said. "I didn't have friends either."

"Yeah, but I didn't do anything wrong. You deduce people, and accidently make them mad."

"Actually...I didn't talk to them. I didn't know how to." Sherlock said. "They thought that I believed myself to be 'too good' for them." Jonah was still sobbing.

"But there's a mean boy, Rich, who says that I'm unloved because my real mommy and daddy didn't want me." Jonah said, looking heartbroken. "But that's not true...is it?" He asked in a small voice. "I know Mummy loved me...but I don't know about Dad."

"Son, listen to me. Even if you're real parents didn't want you, I do." Sherlock said. "I love you, no matter what. You aren't unloved. I love you."

"Me too." Molly said. John and Mary watched. Lucy knelt down and looked at Jonah.

"Look, I have a lot of bullying too, because I'm adopted." She said. "And that's what a lot of people say. They think that I'm unwanted and unloved because my parents aren't my blood family. But you know how I get them to be quiet?" Jonah shook his head. "I say 'My Mum picked me, but your mum got stuck with you.'" Lucy pulled Jonah into her arms. "You aren't unloved. Sherlock adopted you because he cared about you. He wanted you to have a nice, safe home. My Mum wanted me to have a family. She wanted a daughter. She picked me."

"Really?" Jonah asked, looking between her and Sherlock.

"Yes. And I gave up my own children for adoption so they could have a better life. People do things so that others can be happy. And you and I are both happy, because I adopted you. Don't let the bullies get into your way. You know we will always, always love you." Jonah ran into Sherlock's arms, and held on tight. He snuggled into Sherlock's warm body.

"I love you too." He whispered, so only Sherlock could hear. Sherlock scooped Jonah up, and held him in his arms.

"John, would you mind looking over Molly for me, she seems to be running a fever." John nodded, and found his doctor's bag, and setting Molly down on the couch. Sherlock sat in his chair, and plopped Jonah on his lap. Lucy sat in John's chair. Sherlock took Jonah's backpack off him, and found his folder.

"Oh, it looks like their having a pizza party for the January birthdays." Sherlock said. "They would like parental volunteers."

"Will you come to school, Daddy?" Jonah asked. Sherlock really didn't want to, but Jonah looked so hopeful, and Sherlock didn't really want Jonah to be hurt even more.

"I'll do my best. If I get a case, however, you have to promise me you won't be mad because work was a problem."

"Okay." Jonah said. "When is it?"

"This Friday." Sherlock said, pulling out his reading glasses, and writing his name on the paper, checking the "maybe" box.

"Thank you, Daddy." Jonah said, kissing Sherlock's cheek, and hugging him. Sherlock wrapped his arms around the tiny body of his son, and gently hugged him. Jonah let go, and jumped down. He went off to play with his toys.

"Well, Molly, looks like you caught the flu." John said. "I'd say go home, get some sleep, fluids, and call off work for tomorrow." She nodded, then let out a jaw breaking yawn.

"I'll get her home, Sherlock. It's on my way home anyway."

"Thank you, Mary." Sherlock said, standing up to kiss Molly goodbye. She hugged him tightly, and they left. John looked at Sherlock in amazement.

"I can't believe you are in a relationship. You of all people."

"Why? I've been in one before, John, it's not like it's new to me."

"No, but...it's not something I ever knew you to do." John said. "I didn't know you had kids until the other day."

"I didn't know the right time to tell you. And, after I told Molly the story, I decided it was as good of a time as any to clue you in."

"There's a whole story?"

"A long and painful one that I am not quite willing to repeat." Sherlock said, rubbing his eyes. He was tired, and his eyes were itchy and sore from the lack of sleep. He had just completed a three day case, and was in desperate need of sleep.

"Go to bed. I'll keep an eye on Jonah."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely." Sherlock went to bed.

Soon enough, after another two day case, it was Friday. Sherlock had received a notice that Sherlock was to come to the school at one, and would last the rest of the school day. Because they often finished a few minutes early, Sherlock was welcome to take his son home afterwords.

At 11:30, Sherlock got a phone call from Lestrade. It was a tedious case, and he turned it down.

"You're turning down a chance to cuss out Anderson and Donovan?"

"I have to be at Jonah's school today, Detective Inspector, I really don't want to disappoint him. He's already got a bully, I can't be the cause of it worsening."

"All right. I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you." Sherlock hung up his mobile, and went to put on clothes acceptable for a children's party. Sherlock left, and showed up five minutes early. He signed in, and went down the classroom five, where the room was empty. Sherlock went in the doorway, and knocked on the open door.

"Oh, hello." The teacher said. "I'm Mrs. Sheldon."

"I'm Sherlock Holmes, Jonah's son."

"Oh, yes, Mr. Holmes." They shook hands.

"Sherlock, please." He replied, looking around. It was a typical classroom, the alphabet around the wall, desks with name tags, their names clearly printed. On a bulletin board, there were drawings and assignments that hung on the wall. Jonah had a lot of work posted. Sherlock noticed his son drew surprisingly well for a six year old. "May I ask how Jonah is adapting to school?"

"He seems to be doing well academically. Socially, he's having quite a lot of trouble."

"We were working with him to catch him up for the year." Sherlock said. "He was adopted before you went on Christmas holiday."

"Ahh, all right." Mrs. Sheldon said. "Who lives at home?"

"My colleague and best friend Doctor John Watson, and my landlady, Mrs. Hudson."

"That might be part of Jonah's problem." Mrs. Sheldon said. "He talks to adults all day long. Do you have any young cousins."

"One, but he lives almost three hours away. And there are no other families in our building. Or down the whole street, for that matter."

"That's too bad." Mrs. Sheldon said. Sherlock had deduced that she was 26, her hair was it's natural color, she had been married for three years, and she was pregnant. "You said you live with your colleague. Is he the blogger?"

"Yes."

"Okay, cool. Is he really getting married, or is he getting rid of rumors?"

"I'm the best man, I would rather hope I wasn't asked to stand up at a fake wedding." Sherlock said. Several other parents were coming in. Mrs. Sheldon laughed.

"Right, no, that makes sense." Parents greeted one another, so Mrs. Sheldon asked, "Jonah tells me you have a rather attractive girlfriend." Sherlock blushed. "We were hopping the famous Molly could attend today."

"She's ill with the flu. Otherwise I'd have persuaded my way into letting her boss come with me." Mrs. Sheldon laughed.

"I get that. My husband's boss is the same way." A woman approached.

"You must be new." She said. Sherlock looked at her. "I'm Doris, Damian's mother." Sherlock didn't know who Damian was. "Who's father are you?"

"Jonah Holmes."

"Oh, the new boy! He's the sweetest thing." She said. Mrs. Sheldon smiled, and moved on. "Where's his mother?" Before Sherlock could respond, he could hear excited children coming through the halls. He craned his neck, and found a sad little Jonah look up. Jonah's entire face lit up, and he grinned. Running through the classroom, he went straight to Sherlock, who had crouched down waiting for Jonah's hug. The boy jumped into Sherlock's arms.

"I missed you last night."

"I know, I'm so sorry Jonah. I had to finish the case so I could be here today." Sherlock said, pressing a kiss to Jonah's curly black hair.

"Come on, I want to show you my desk." Jonah dragged his father to the right one, and he showed him. "Look, John would be happy, it's nice and clean." Sherlock peered inside, and found that it was very neat. He smirked, and rumpled the boy's hair.

"Attention boys and girls. We are ready for you to get your food now." They lined up. Sherlock passed napkins out to each desk. Dull, boring, tedious. But there really was nothing more for him to do. Sherlock also passed out cups. Derick Crawford's mother was pouring juice for each child. Sherlock wasn't really needed, they'd had a surplus of parents to join, so he was told to enjoy himself. Jonah sat down, and silently ate. Sherlock crouched down in front of Jonah's desk.

"How's Molly?" Jonah asked.

"She's loads better, but still quite ill. She should be all right in a day or two."

"Okay." He continued to eat alone. When he stood up to throw his trash away, a tall, rather intimidating boy, stuck his foot into the aisle-way. Jonah tripped, and his paper plate, napkin, and empty cup went flying. He scrambled up to pick everything up, while everyone laughed. Jonah's face was dark red. Sherlock went to defend his son, but Doris stopped him.

"I want to see Jonah fight for himself." Damian, her son, looked concerned. Mrs. Sheldon waited, making sure it wasn't going to get violent.

"Hey, freak." The boy stood up.

"What do you want, Blake?" Jonah asked.

"Where's you're fake Dad? I don't see him."

"He's right behind you." Blake didn't move.

"I think you're lying. He's not here, because he doesn't love you, nobody does. That's why you were adopted." Jonah's hands were shaking. The student's and parents had gone silent. Mrs. Sheldon was trying to get through, but nobody would move out of the way to allow her through the crowd of people. "And where's your Mummy?"

"She's dead." Jonah said, rather bluntly. An embarrassed silence filled the room. Sherlock tensed, looking pained, and worried.

"She probably killed herself to get away from you." That boy... Sherlock clenched his fists. He was furious. "And your dad probably ran away from you, cause you're such a freak."

"Yeah, well guess what, Blake." Jonah spat out the other boy's name with contempt. "My Dad picked me to be his son. Your dad got stuck with you." Damian looked impressed. Blake was furious.

"You take that back."

"No, because I'm tired of being picked on. You make me seem like I'm a freak because my dad does things different than other people." Sherlock took note that Jonah sounded like a teenager, not a little kid. "I'm tired of you pushing everyone around. It's not fair. You aren't better than anyone, you're just a bully." Jonah was shaking. "And I'm done with you." Jonah walked of, his heart pounding, body shaking. Sherlock deduced quickly the adrenaline rush going through Jonah's system. Sherlock, who hadn't been able to stand up to his own bullies, looked at his son with pride, and respect.

When Jonah looked up, he saw that his father was proud of him. He grinned, and ran as fast as he could towards Sherlock. He jumped into the detective's long, muscular arms, and clung to him. Sherlock held him tight. He whispered, "I am so proud of you."

"Because I said mean things?"

"No, because you stood up for yourself. I couldn't stand up for myself." Damian stood up.

"I agree with Jonah." He said. "You're a meanie, and I don't like you." Now that was a six year old. "You tooked all my crayons, and you spitted on me."

"When was that?" Mrs. Sheldon asked.

"Yesterday." Damian said. "At lunch." Mrs. Sheldon's TA (Sherlock didn't know her name) took Blake to the office. The children cheered. Sherlock set Jonah down. Damian ran up to him and gave him a hug.

"I didn't know how mean they really were. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Jonah said. Sherlock smiled. A girl walked up to Jonah shyly.

"I thought what you did looked scary."

"It was." Unfortunately, the next thing he said was more than true, and it made Sherlock die inside, "I've been through scarier."

"Well, at least you stood up to Blake." Damian said. "Nobody ever does that. Last year, he used to steal my lunch money." Sherlock nearly rolled his eyes. Stereotypical bullying moment much?

"Good for you, Jonah, for standing up for yourself." Mrs. Sheldon said, smiling. Jonah grinned. "Not that I like that you insulted Blake, but he's been bullying kids long enough that what you said doesn't really matter in this case." Sherlock was relieved. He really didn't want Jonah in trouble.

"Do you mind if I take him now?"

"Absolutely." Sherlock had Jonah get his things, and he signed him out in the office. Sherlock and Jonah ran to catch a cab, then headed to Baker Street.

"I can't wait to tell Lucy that her joke really worked." Jonah said. They ran in, to find John looking through a catalog. Sherlock could smell a distinct perfume in the air. Two, if you counted Mrs. Hudsons.

"When did Mary leave?"

"About ten minutes ago to get Lucy. Why are you two home so early?" John looked confused.

"I was allowed to bring him home early." Sherlock said. Footsteps pounded up the stairs. It was Lestrade.

"All right, your back. Now can you come?"

"What do you mean?" Jonah asked.

"Sherlock...did you turn down a case for your son?" John asked. Sherlock ignored John, and turned to Lestrade.

"Depends, what is it."

"Murder in Oxford. College student found dead in his dorm."

"Did you get the ballistics report?"

"Not yet, no." Sherlock pulled his phone from his jacket, and dialed the mortuary. "This is Sherlock Holmes, I need to speak to whoever is on duty right now."

"Molly Hooper isn't in." They receptionist said, in a snotty tone.

"I'm well aware of my girlfriend's wereabouts, now patch me through." Sherlock snapped back. After a moments silence, Mike Stamford picked up. "Mike, I want the ballistics report on the college kid."

"The Oxford boy? We didn't do it, but I can call a guy."

"Thank you." Sherlock hung up, and sat down. Lestrade joined him.

"What is it?"

"Mike's calling the place that did the autopsy." Sherlock said. "No thanks to their idiot secretary." Jonah was coloring in a coloring book, humming quietly as he did so. Sherlock found he was rather soothed by the gentle humming noises that Jonah made.

Within ten minutes, Mike called again. "The kid died of drugs."

"Thank you, Mike." Sherlock hung up. "It was a drug overdose." Lestrade looked at him.

"You sure?"

"Mike doesn't lie, does he?"

"...Fair point." Lestrade said. "All right, well, I better be off." Lestrade left.

After Sherlock had tucked Jonah into bed, he went into the living room, and pulled out his phone. He flicked through the contacts list, and found Roger's name. Touching the name on the screen, he hit "call" then pressed the phone to his ear.

"Sherlock?" Usually, they emailed or texted.

"Roger. You know how it was either you, Anna, or Kirsty that stood up for me in school?"

"Yeah, of course I do."

"It looks like Jonah has some of your willpower. You'll never believe what happened." Sherlock said, grinning.

John, who was typing up a blog, smiled.