It's been awhile since I last posted up a story :( If anyone was waiting, I'm terribly sorry for the wait. But yeah, I do hope to be able to write more before school starts X( Oh yes - thank you to Rocking The Redhead, TheAnnoyingOne97, CreamoCrop, mpenguin15, Empress of Verace, Monica Kyler, ZogioAndtheGLEE and IggyInin20218 for kindly giving a few comments on the last chappie :3 Okay then, I've been given plenty of kid!lock prompts from very willing people, and I'm gonna start with TheAnnoyingOne97's idea, in which the Holmes brothers get a pet! :D Well, in this story, more like they 'had' a pet; it didn't exactly followed the prompt, but once I had the idea, I couldn't change it :( I do hope you'll enjoy reading it nonetheless, and thank you for the prompt, TheAnnoyingOne97! :DD


Mycroft was torn between the decision to either sigh in annoyance or snort in amusement. Sherlock was staring ahead expressionlessly; Molly…well, Molly was-

"WHY?!"

-Molly was crying.

"OH TOMMY! WHY- WHY MUST THIS HAPPEN TO YOU?!"

"It has to happen sooner or later," Sherlock responded slowly.

Molly only cried harder, and the curly haired boy widened his eyes in slight surprise at her reaction. Mycroft, however, took the opportunity to conceal a sharp bark of laughter behind a hand at his younger brother's expression. If he knew him well, he would say Sherlock needed more guidance in the art of comforting and consoling someone; how would someone ever think of the phrase 'it has to happen sooner or later' as comforting?

"YOU!"

Sherlock frowned immediately at the harsh word directed at him which was accompanied by a small angry index finger. "'Me'?" he repeated, albeit cautiously, as he pointed at himself.

"IF IT WEREN'T FOR YOU BEING SOO BUSY PLAYING PIRATES, HE WOULDN'T HAVE DIED!" Molly half-screeched.

"Molly, let's think this through in a more logical manner-"

"HOW MUCH LOGICAL CAN YOU GET WITH THIS?!"

"Yes, Sherlock - how much logical can you get with the current situation?" Mycroft chiped in, a smirk in place as he leaned against his black umbrella. "The only logical thing thus far is that you truly are the one to have caused Tommy's…death."

"Mycroft, you're not making things any better."

"Never was my intention."

"It's not my fault-"

"YES IT IS! IT'S ALL YOUR-"

"MOLLY, THAT THING WAS SICK; OF COURSE IT'LL-"

"YOU COULD HAVE BROUGHT HIM TO THE PET STORE TO BE TREATED! YOU HAVE LOADS OF MONEY-"

"IT'S JUST A GOLDFISH, FOR GOODNESS' SAKE!"

Silence fell in the group.

Molly looked down to the transparent bowl of water she was grasping, which contained a floating but upside-down orange goldfish, and another tear fell from her eye. "Tommy wasn't 'just' a goldfish; he was my friend," she whispered tenderly.

Sherlock merely stared at her. "What?" He then shook his head and continued, "I mean, it's a goldfish; it can barely understand what you're always on about. It can't be your friend."

"He can, and he is!"

"Was - and it's an 'it', not 'he'!"

Molly stuck out her tongue at him in retaliation, to which he rolled his eyes. "Very mature," he mumbled.

"Though, in Sherlock's defense, Molly," Mycroft spoke up as he straightened himself, "he wasn't exactly 'Tommy's friend' as well; you seem to be the only one lavishing it with care."

"Tommy was under his care! It's Sherlock's duty to make sure he, at least, stays alive!"

Sherlock scowled at the brown-haired girl at being told he was 'responsible' for the well-being of a goldfish (a goldfish, for God's sake; not a cat, nor a dog, or a rabbit, but a goldfish). "I never wanted a goldfish in the first place!" he retorted. "Mummy merely bought it as a decorative purpose, and it was you who got so attached to that thing, not me!"

Molly had had enough of arguing; huffing heatedly, she stomped over to one of the Holmes mansion's bathrooms and stood in front of the toilet bowl. Mycroft followed her, just in case she wanted to do anything rash.

"Bye-bye Tommy," the girl whispered as she gazed at the lifeless fish. "I have enjoyed playing with you, and I hope you go to a better place…"

While flushing the goldfish down the toilet, a male voice spoke above the noise, "Ah yes - the sewer is a 'better place', indeed."

"SHERLOCK, SHUT UP! YOU WILL BE THE NEXT ONE TO BE FLUSHED DOWN THE TOILET FOR KILLING TOMMY- COME BACK HERE!"

Mycroft sighed a long sigh as the two kids ran around the mansion, one shouting something about human rights and the other about goldfish rights. "The woes of a big brother, especially one to a Sherlock Holmes," the teen muttered pityingly.


Aww. Poor big brother My.