Hey guys! Had some extra time so I decided to get a short chapter in.

Just to make things clear, even though this is kinda AU, it is set before Sherlock jumps.

Also, this might be obvious, but by the end of the story, I am hoping to make this story slash. Not when he is a child (cause thats super creepy), but later. So if you don't like that, sorry, but too bad.

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 3

When John got into the waiting room, he found Lestrade sitting in the chairs on his phone. John decided that he would wait until the call was done. Sitting next Lestrade, he closed his eyes and listened in on Lestrade's half.

"Are you sure? Did you look everywhere? Ok, who is interrogating him? Is she getting anywhere? Fine, call me if anything happens."

Shutting his phone, Lestrade rubbed his face for what seemed like the hundredth time today.

John opened his eyes. "I'm guessing they didn't find anything?"

"No, but Donovan is talking to the guy now. How is Sherlock?"

"Okay, I guess. He is acting kind of weird, and he tried to discreetly kick me out the room to talk to the doctor."

Lestrade turned to look at John straight on. "Is he alright?"

"The doctor said that he was perfectly fine and that he could go home."

"Perfect, he will be coming home with me then." John frowned at that voice and turned to see Mycroft strolling down the hall, umbrella in hand. "Is he ready to be discharged?"

"Wait, why is he going with you? What's wrong with 221B?"

Mycroft locked eyes with John and gave him a withering look. "Do you really think that you are equipped to take care of a five year old? Because that's what Sherlock is. He may have his intelligence, but he will also have the feelings and personality of his current age. Now I know that Sherlock acts like a child sometimes, but are you prepared to take care of him when he really is a child?"

John opened his mouth to answer, but paused. Can I actually do this? I could barely get him to do anything before. How would I be able to take care of him now? But then John realized that it wasn't really his choice. Sherlock is just as stubborn as before, and he was going to go where he wanted to go.

"Well, while I think that I would be capable, it's not really my call. You know that Sherlock isn't going to go somewhere he doesn't want to go."

"He isth wight (right) Mycwoft. And I will be going home with John."

Everyone turned to see Sherlock, albeit a lot shorter than they were used to, walking down the hall toward the group. He then made a point to stand next to John. For some reason, the fact that Sherlock picked to stay with him made him smile. Mycroft, on the other hand, did not look happy with this decision.

"I don't think that that is a wise choice." Mycroft said, as he looked at Sherlock worryingly.

"I'll be fine, Mycwoft. I have evewything undew contwol."

John looked down at Sherlock, surprised. It was unusual for Sherlock to talk to Mycroft without insulting him. In fact, it almost seemed like he was reassuring him. If he was, Mycroft was not buying it.

"What if something happens?"

"Nothing will happen. I talked to the doctow and he gave me sthome vitaminsth to take."

Why would the doctor give him vitamins? I thought he was fine? John had a feeling that he was missing out on a huge part of the conversation.

Mycroft and Sherlock seemed to have a mini staring contest before Mycroft sighed and turned to John.

"I hope you will have the courtesy to keep me informed?

"Uh... Sure, yeah, of course." John said, baffled at the Holmes brothers' behavior.

Satisfied with that answer, Mycroft turned and crouched down so that he was level with Sherlock.

"If anything happens, I'll be there okay?

Sherlock looked into Mycroft's eyes before nodding. "Okay."

By now, both John and Lestrade were watching the interaction with their mouths open. Neither of them had ever seen Mycroft and Sherlock so caring before. It was slightly unnerving.

Standing up, Mycroft smoothed out some imaginary wrinkles on his suit. "Well, I must be off. Business to attend to." And without so much as a goodbye, Mycroft turned and walked away.

When he had turned the corner, Mycroft stopped and leaned against the nearest wall. He stood there for a moment, rubbing his face. To those walking by, it might have looked like he was taking a rest, or waiting for something. But if anyone had really looked at him, they would have seen the raw emotion of worry crossing his face. But then, just as quickly as it had started, it was over. The face turned cold and neutral again, and clearing his throat, Mycroft continued to walk away, swinging his umbrella as he went.

Turning to look at Lestrade, Sherlock sighed.

"They didn't find anything."

Not surprised that Sherlock knew, Lestrade shut his mouth and tried to appear less dumbfounded. "Yeah. His name is Dr. Nick Chase. He went to Harvard and MIT, has a PhD and Masters in Molecular Biology. He had a job at a lab in London, but was fired for taking chemicals for his own experiments. His basement had been converted into his own personal laboratory. It was filled to the brim with different chemicals and mixtures, but forensics couldn't find anything that could definitely be the antidote, so they took the whole lot and are running tests on all of them. Donovan is interrogating him now."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and made an annoyed face. "Why isth Donovan doing it insthead of you?"

"Because I wanted to make sure you were okay." Lestrade said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well, I would be much bettew if I wasth'nt in the body of a five yeaw old! How am I sthupposthe to view a cwime scthene when I can't even sthee over the countew?"

Lestrade grimaced. "Well, I can fix that one. You aren't coming to crime scenes."

"WHAT?" John and Sherlock both exclaimed.

"You can't do that to me!" exclaimed Sherlock. What would he do? Now the boredom would be unbearable.

"Please don't do this to me!" pleaded John. He had been counting on distractions in order to take care of Sherlock. Now what was he going to do?

"I'm sorry." said Lestrade, more for John's sake. "But how am I suppose to explain why a five year old is running around a crime scene?"

While Sherlock was upset, he saw Lestrade's logic. "Fine. Can I at leastht have sthome of the cold casthesth?"

For a second, Lestrade considered saying no. From what he had heard, Sherlock hadn't had the best childhood in the world. He hadn't had many friends (or any), and his brother probably wasn't the best of company. He kinda wanted Sherlock to enjoy his second chance at childhood. But he knew that if Sherlock didn't have something to do, he would drive John up the wall. "Yeah, I'll get you all the cold cases we got."

John gave a small sigh of relief, while Sherlock still had cute a pout on his face, causing Lestrade and John to laugh.

"Well, I need to go back to the Yard and fill out paperwork. I will come and check on you tomorrow, okay?

"Okay." John answered before Sherlock could say anything.

Getting up, Lestrade patted John on the back, earning a small smile, and ruffled Sherlock's hair, earning a large scowl. He then turned and left, leaving John and Sherlock alone.

A/N: I know that Sherlock and Mycroft were a little OOC, but it will make sense later.

I'm not sure if I like this chapter or not but whatevs.

Also, if anyone has ideas for the story worth sharing or a title, I'm all ears!

XOXOXOXO