Chapter 3

Sherlock dropped his hand and let his eyes wonder all over John.

"You're a soldier and a surgeon." His voice was much smaller and higher pitched, matching the child's body.

John could feel a tear falling down his face but he wouldn't allow himself to cry, not now, not in front of what was now the child version of his best friend. "How do know that?"

"Tan line on your wrist and your left leg isn't very good at holding me up like your right one is. Aaaand you have surgeon hands."

He couldn't help but let the corner of his lip curl up just a bit, "You're right. I was an army doctor. Just a doctor now though." He bounced his left leg up a bit indicating Sherlock was right about that bit too. He smile fell back though, "You don't remember me though?"

Sherlock took a closer look, narrowing his eyes, then turned his head to look at the peculiar room around them. "This is where you live. But you don't live alone… Oh cool!" Sherlock jumped up with excitement and got to the floor. Only his shirt remained on him but it was plenty long enough to cover his small body. "A skull! Is it real?" his eyes lighted up.

John let out a sigh, 'well I wasn't expecting this…' "It is." He stood up and grabbed the skull letting the younger Sherlock hold it.

"Woooow! Myc wont le' me have a skull." He pouted in a way very reminiscent of how adult Sherlock would.

"Myc? Oooh."

"Mycroft is my brother. He's the best. But he wont let me have what I want." He carefully inspected every square inch of the skull trying to commit it to memory.

"Ha. The best? I would never in a million years think I would live to see the day…" he chuckled bemusingly to himself and barely noticed Sherlock carefully placing the skull on the floor and looking around the flat again.

Spying a framed picture Mrs. Hudson had left on the coffee table Sherlock picked it up and studied it before holding it up, "Him. This is who you live with isn't it?"

It was a holiday photo of John and Sherlock together, Mrs. Hudson had taken it with them both unaware and thought it would be nice to leave it up there. In it Sherlock was crinkling his nose in disgust of John's girlfriend at that time who was just out of the cameras view. John was planning on tricking Sherlock by giving him a box containing progressively smaller boxes inside so he couldn't guess what his present was, the look of satisfied devilish trickery written all over his face. It was a classic Sherlock and John photograph.

John looked down at the image with a hint of sadness, "Yea…"

"You look sad… did he leave you?"

Sherlock caught John quickly looking away before taking the picture from him and putting it back down. "We need to get you properly dressed. Er, stay here, I'll be right back…. Don't… don't touch anything." John didn't want to leave his vulnerable flatmate alone but he also couldn't take a boy that was roughly 5 years old to the store without pants on.

Sherlock too his opportunity to study the flat better and get a better idea as to why he was there and who exactly this army doctor was.

Half an hour later John came back in with a large back he plopped on the floor before relocking the flat. He was terrified that he would come home to a torn apart flat and a crying child. He didn't. Instead, only a few items appeared to moved around, but carefully, and Sherlock stood in the middle of the room holding the newspaper and looking at it in complete bewilderment.

"Sherlock? What's wrong?"

With out looking up Sherlock stated in an unbelieving tone, "Tha's… tha's me."

"Hm?" John stood over his tiny flatmat and looked down. There on the front cover of the newspaper was an article describing his and Sherlock's last case complete with a photo of the two. The title read "Consulting Detective Sherlock Holmes Solves Another Case."

"I'm a consul-…. Consul-… consul-ing…"

"Consulting."

"Tha's wha' I said!" Sherlock's grasp on the paper tightened as he began fuming.

'He has a lisp?' John suddenly realized. "Er well… actually…"

"You must be John. If tha's me, why am I small?"

"Well…"

Sherlock dropped the newspaper completely and looked disbelievingly at John. "You're my friend?!"

"Of course I'm-" John was cut off as the small Sherlock grabbed onto his leg to hug him. That's when he remembered people saying Sherlock didn't have friends, apparently they meant ever.

Still holding onto his leg with bright eyes Sherlock looked up, "Are we best friends?"

"The very best." He gave a reassuring smile.

"You're much better then a skull." John could definitely see the kid and adult similarities.

John leaned down to be eye level with Sherlock, "Well thank you." Both of their eyes wondered back to the newspaper now on the floor. "Plus you're just about the smartest and coolest person alive. Did you know that?"

"Obviously I'm the smartes'… but Jawn, why am I an adult in the paper and photographs?"

"Er, well, because you are an adult." John could see Sherlock was clearly confused, "Well you were, Mor- this bad guy made your drink something that made you a kid again."

"Like a villain?"

John nodded, "Arch nemesis actually… but I'm going to fix it ok?"

Sherlock nodded. "So I really live here with you?"

'This might not be so bad.'