Chapter 8

Mycroft stopped just outside of Lestrade's office. He wasn't sure what exactly he would see once he walked inside. He only knew that he would recognize that mostly innocent voice of his kid brother anywhere… even if it was impossible. Obviously something had happened to Sherlock, but what? Did he think he was a child again? Had he really forgotten all the vicious fights they had? Mycroft sucked in a deep breath of air and knocked.

Lestrade opened it blocking the view from the door with his body, "Oh thank god you're here, they're driving me crazy."

"They?" Mycroft stepped inside as Lestrade opened the door further for him. He was sure his jaw had dropped to the floor when he saw the kid versions of his own brother and his flatmate making a tent out of an orange shock blanket and Lestrade's desk.

Sherlock looked up with wide eyes, "Wha' did you do to my brother!?"

"What happened to you?" Mycroft kneeled down, it had been so many years since he saw Sherlock so young and fragile.

"Me?! You're old!" he unsympathetically poked Mycroft's stomach "and fat. I told you to stop eating cake."

"and John… Lestrade what happened to them?"

"Not sure really. Yesterday they had a run in with Moriarty, Sherlock seemed sick afterwards but insisted on going home instead of the hospital. Honestly I've just been waiting for someone to tell me the joke is over and I've been played. Is that really Sherlock?"

"I can assure you Lestrade, that is in fact my brother." He felt two small hands tug on his suit and looked down at the blond haired boy.

"Who do you live with?"

"Oi, back to that one now. Might as well answer him, he can be persistent."

"Erm, I live alone."

"Why's that?"

"I'm not romantically involved with anyone."

"Oooh… so that's why people live together?" John's question peeked Sherlock's interest.

"For the most part yes. Now, we need to find a way to-'

Sherlock broke Mycroft's concentration with his overly loud voice "Is John my boyfriend?"

Lestrade tried to hide his amused smile.

"Neither of us are married or have any form of significant other and we have been living together for years." He brought his hands up to his classic thinking position, the rounder face and large eyes caused the position to lose it's mystic and just look adorable instead.

Mycroft shot Lestrade a look, for a brief moment they both foolishly expected John to quickly deny that he was gay like he always did. Instead he fixed part of the make shift tent and turned to face the two adults also awaiting an answer.

"Now brother, you're just friends." 'just' Mycroft nearly laughed, what he wouldn't have done for his brother to have at least one friend the first time he was a child. Maybe he would have turned out differently, been more human. Maybe there once loving relationship wouldn't have all gone to hell- or was that Mycroft's fault entirely? Never being there when it counted. He knew it was his fault.

"I'm going to take you and John home now, Sherlock, do you understand what's going on?"

"Of course," he eyed his much older brother up and down, "I was somehow turned into a kid again and lost my memories as an adult as a result. John told me the best thing to do was to contact you and you obviously have a lot of money now and an important well paying job- likely one with some amount of power behind it too. But he was also… hesitant? Croft…" his words were cold and purely factual until now when a slight undercurrent of sad peeked through, "Do you… not like me any more?"

Behind his back people referred to Mycroft as 'The Iceman.' This was the worst moment for him to remember the countless hours he had sold his own brother out to Moriarty all that time ago. Sherlock was too young to remember all the nights Mycroft said he would be home from school early to play with him, all the music recitals he had missed, and of course, the time he caused his little brother to jump off the roof of St. Bart's. It was no wonder that little boy would grow up to hate him so much. He gathered the small form up in his arms, "I have always loved you and I always will, even if I'm a terrible brother at times."

Sentiment was not always a chemical defect found in the loosing side, evidently.