With a little bit of encouragement to Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock did manage to clean up the flat by morning, or at least enough so that Mrs. Hudson found it passable.
She waited with him in his sitting room, sipping a cup of tea, and chattering on about the joy of children and what a dear Alex was. Sherlock tried to tune her out as he drank his own cup, staring towards the window every few minutes, watching the rain continue pouring down. Mycroft had texted to say Alex would be there around ten.
After a long fifteen minutes of listening to the older woman ramble, Sherlock was glad to see a dark car pull up in front of 221 B. Mycroft stepped out with Alex at his side. He withdrew his umbrella and held it over the both of them. Sherlock took in the boy he'd grown familiar with, his rucksack with him, and his thumb in his mouth again. Sherlock sighed and debated how lenient he'd be about the bad habit. The boy had clearly been upset by the death of his parents.
Mrs. Hudson rose to her feet, smiling and vibrating with excitement as she went to the door. Sherlock rolled his eyes but found himself standing as well, even as he waited for his landlady to return with his new ward and Mycroft.
He heard the door open, Mycroft greet Mrs. Hudson even as she obviously focused her attention on the child instead.
They came up the stairs together. Alex had removed his thumb to chomp on a biscuit Mrs. Hudson had provided him. He smiled when he saw Sherlock and dropped her hand to run over.
"So I get to live with you now?" he asked.
"Yes," Sherlock said.
Mycroft cleared his throat.
"For now," Sherlock clarified. "If it's ruled acceptable."
Alex's head tilted, but he didn't question.
"Now, the place looks tolerable, Sherlock," Mycroft said, glancing around. "Alex's things are being packed up from the Watson apartment and will be brought here sometime this afternoon. Harriet Watson has been asked to go through the rest, she'll decide what things of John and Mary should be left to him and what can be thrown out."
Sherlock nodded and let his gaze follow Alex as the boy wandered around the now familiar flat, marveling at how much cleaner it was.
"You will expect check-ins," Mycroft said with a sigh. He sent a sharp look towards Sherlock. "I won't give you warnings. I won't accept any excuses if you start using again. I want what is best for both of you, and I do intend to make sure that is what is happening here. Am I clear?"
Sherlock nodded, half smiling as Alex said hello to the smiley face and the skull on the wall. They'd become familiar friends in his visits.
"Oh it'll be so good to have someone else around here," Mrs. Hudson said, beaming at all of them. "And a child at that. Never had any of my own of course, but I always loved the thought of having someone to look after. And Alex is such a dear."
Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Well do check in on him from time to time then, Mrs. Hudson. I'm sure Sherlock would appreciate a little extra help."
"I can try," Mrs. Hudson said. "Well, I promised my sister I'd call her this morning. So I'd best go do that. I'll see you around, Alex, dear."
The boy turned to give a sweet smile and nodded her way. Sherlock let his attention refocus on his brother who was still giving him a meaningful look.
"It will be fine," Sherlock said. "You may leave, Mycroft."
He pursed his lips but did walk to the door. Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief as he headed down the stairs, eventually disappearing out of view. He glanced back towards Alex.
"Why don't you have a seat," Sherlock suggested, recalling the first time he'd babysat telling the boy just that.
Alex set his knapsack aside and slid into John's old chair. Sherlock wondered if eventually he'd stop thinking of these items in terms of John. After a time they'd become Alex's instead… John's room, John's chair… given to his son instead.
"Alex, I need you to tell me about what happened when Moriarty came to your house and kidnapped your parents. I need you to tell me everything."
He gave a shrug and lowered his head. "Don't remember much…"
"Well, whatever you can remember."
"Dunno."
Sherlock sighed. The boy had curled in on himself again. Shrinking back into some kind of a shell.
He rose to his feet and stalked over to the boy, kneeling down on his level, peering at him. Alex looked up again.
"I need to know," Sherlock said. "Don't you want me to find the people who hurt your parents? Don't you want them brought to justice?"
Alex shrugged again, lower lip trembling. "Are my mummy and daddy in heaven now, Sherlock?"
"Heaven isn't real," Sherlock snapped without thinking. "It's what people make up to feel better about their uncertainty of death. Heaven is for idiots who want to believe in imaginary constructs such as God and religion and all that nonsense."
Alex sniffled and then tears started rolling down his cheeks before he was sobbing in rough hiccups, burying his face in his arms as his whole body quaked.
Sherlock shook his head and rose again, deciding the questioning would go nowhere with Alex being so ridiculous. He stalked off towards his bedroom to find his laptop, deciding to do some searching on his own if his witness wasn't going to be of any help.
He continued to hear muffled crying from the living room. Perhaps this was a poor idea. Maybe Mycroft was righ—
No. The idea was ludicrous. Mycroft was never right. Sherlock let out a groan as he sank onto his bed and grabbed the device from where he'd left it half under the sheets. He opened up the computer and set about doing some preliminary news searches. He texted a contact of his homeless network along with Lestrade. Feeling perhaps hopeful of leads, Sherlock almost missed the knock at the door.
"Sherlock," Alex's voice came through the barrier.
The man sighed and went to open it, finding the boy standing there looking small and lost and scared.
"'M sorry," the boy whispered. "Please don't be mad at me"
"I need your help. Boohooing isn't going to help me," Sherlock said.
"I didn't mean to," Alex said, even as he sniffled a little more. "It was really scary, Sherlock."
Sherlock let out a humph but did have to admit the boy was probably scared. Moriarty was a dangerous criminal, and Alex was only five…
"What can I do to make it less scary?" Sherlock asked, trying to resist curling his lips or indicating any level of disgust.
Alex thought a minute. "Can you guess it like you did that one time?"
"I can't guess what Moriarty said or did precisely without you telling me, Alex. If I could I wouldn't be asking you," Sherlock pointed out.
Alex shrugged, shoulders flopping down so that he slouched and his entire posture matched the drooping pout on his face
"What do you normally do when you're scared?" Sherlock sighed, reaching up to rub his temple, wondering how parents prevented constant migraines if this was how this sort of thing worked.
His face brightened after a moment. "When I got scared at home mum would make me hot chocolate and we'd curl up on the couch with some of my toys under a blanket and then I'd tell her why I was scared and she'd kiss me and hold me and tell me that I didn't have to be scared cause she'd always protect me."
Sherlock was incapable of stopping his facial movements reacting to that. The disgusting level of… cuddly cuteness was enough to make one vomit. Still, the cogs in his mind turned through the possibilities there. Hot chocolate…he had no clue how to even go about making such a thing…. Alex only had one of his toys with him…kissing ew…cuddling and holding— no. This was absolutely repulsive.
What had he done as a child if he'd felt some level of fear? Had he experienced such a thing? Hmm… he recalled petting Redbeard a good amount. Reading books to distract himself. And—
His head shot up. Oh yes. Perfect. Sherlock snatched the blankets off his bed, nearly sending the laptop flying.
Alex stared at him as he stomped off towards the living room. The boy trailed in his wake, still somewhat uncertain after all of the drama of earlier.
Sherlock pulled the chairs from the table over towards the two arm chairs. He glanced back towards Alex who still appeared rather lost, thumb back in his mouth. Sherlock let his attention focus back on his work, arranging the chairs in a sort of circle before beginning to drape blankets over the framework. A soft oh from behind him alerted him to the fact that Alex had figured it out.
Spreading the final blanket on the ground beneath the newly constructed fort, Sherlock turned to look at the boy, finding some level of satisfaction in the smile on his face.
"Cool!" Alex said, darting over to explore Sherlock's new creation. He grinned as he got down on hands and knees and crawled into the fort. Sherlock chuckled and grabbed for one of the lamps, dragging it so it could rest in the small area with them, lighting up the blanketed cavern.
"When I was a little boy I used to pretend I was a pirate," Sherlock said as he settled himself on the blankets beside Alex. "And this was my cave where I'd bury my treasure and hide important things…it was where I knew everything I wanted to keep hidden would be safe. This pirate cave has never been discovered, Alex. I'm sharing it with you now trusting you will keep it safe too…and know that in here you don't have to worry about Moriarty or any other people who might frighten you."
Alex gave a feeble nod. Sherlock reached a hand over to Alex's backpack and pulled out the soft dino and handed it to the boy, watching as he cuddled it close, though thankfully the thumb didn't go anywhere near his mouth.
"Can you tell me what happened, Alex?"
The boy let out a strangled whimper before crawling over to Sherlock. The man froze as the boy threw his arms around the detective, half in his lap, the dinosaur having fallen to the side. Sherlock sighed, scooped up the boy and then the soft toy, cradling both close to him so that he felt Alex's muscles began to relax again.
"Mum answered the door," Alex said. "She screamed. I heard a man laughing and saying something to her, like…'gotcha' or something. And then dad yelled and the man said to come quiet or he'd kill mum… dad called him lots of bad names and then yelled at me to hide. I thought of the crawlspace and went there. I heard him coming across the floor. He started saying my name…all…songlike…you know in this creepy way. He was angry when he discovered I was in the crawlspace cause he couldn't get me down there. He screamed at me and said he'd kill my mum and dad…but they kept telling me they'd die anyways…"
He burst into sobs again and Sherlock made a soft shushing noise.
"Mum said to cover my ears and to not come out again til you came to get me. She said it was ok and not to listen to him." Alex whimpered softly but continued. "I covered my ears. Could still hear screaming, but he decided apparently I wasn't worth it so he left. I think…I think I heard something before he went about leaving me as a surprise… and then he said something about… something about a boathouse…"
"That's very good, Alex," Sherlock said. He attempted a smile, though his thoughts were already circulating so quickly it was difficult to focus on the task.
"Will you stop him, Sherlock?" Alex whispered.
"Of course," Sherlock said automatically.
He set the boy back down on the blanket. He crawled out of the fort and went to find his laptop. By the time he returned Alex was already immersed in the book he'd brought with him, looking over information about various predators in the natural world. Pleased to have found him quiet and occupied, Sherlock set about searching for boathouses in the area. It had to be something abandoned of course. Not too far from the Watson's residence. There were only a few options that met such a requirement. He sent the three most likely listings to Lestrade, though he wondered if he should go investigate himself. He became more involved in looking at activity around that area, hoping to find something of interest, any clues as to Moriarty's involvement.
"Hoo-hoo." He looked up to find Mrs. Hudson peering in through a gap in the fort. "There you two are. I was just coming up to see if you'd like some tea. Oh aren't you having fun, both you boys doing your research in a tent."
Alex smiled. "I'm learning 'bout tigers, Mrs. Hudson!"
"Oh are you? Look at how dreadful those claws are!"
"Tea?" Sherlock said, clearing his throat.
"And biscuits," Alex piped up. "'M really hungry."
"Did you have lunch, sweetheart?" Mrs. Hudson asked.
He shook his head, drawing Sherlock out of his focus on the computer screen.
"What time is it?" he demanded of his landlady.
"Nearly three," she said. "Oh Sherlock, please tell me you didn't forget to give him lunch!"
The detective had the decency to look ashamed as she tisked and scolded. She offered a hand to Alex and promised to make him a sandwich.
"Would you be so kind as to make me one as well?" Sherlock asked, and was startled when she snorted and pulled Alex away without another word.
He rolled his eyes and decided he wasn't hungry anyways. He went back to work at his computer, losing track of time so that when Alex came back he hardly noticed.
"Mrs. Hudson's made dinner…she says it's just this once. Want to come eat something?" Alex said.
"Hmm? Dinner? You just ate lunch," Sherlock pointed out.
The boy giggled. "That was three hours ago, Sherlock, and it was just a half a sandwich. I stayed and talked with her and helped her make dinner. You should come eat. It's not good to skip meals, you know."
Sherlock muttered something under his breath but did shut the computer and get up to go with Alex downstairs. Mrs. Hudson shot him a look from the stove but didn't say a word as he seated himself at the table with his new ward.
"It's nothing fancy, but I figured it'd be a good meal for a growing boy," Mrs. Hudson said as she ruffled Alex's hair on the way by. She set a steaming pot on the table and ladled up portions of stew. Sherlock felt his stomach rumble in agreement at the smell. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten.
He dug into his stew though was paused in his efforts when there was a knock at the door. Mrs. Hudson rose to her feet to get it, reassuring the two of them they could continue eating. Sherlock deduced what he could from the knock. A woman most likely based on the lack of real force behind it, though it had been a short rap in quick succession. Someone rather impatient then. Hmm…
Mrs. Hudson greeted the door cheerily as she generally did. He heard an exclamation of surprise, then some soft murmurings that had to be sympathy of some kind. Alex's ears perked up as the stranger wandered back with the landlady. He grinned and jumped to his feet.
"Aunt Harry!"
Even without Alex's exclamation, Sherlock could have figured out who she was. Short choppy blond hair, bloodshot blue eyes, that same familiar nose and similar yet more slender facial features. She smiled and a wave of familiarity overwhelmed him, watching as Harriet scooped up her nephew.
"You're getting so big," she exclaimed with a laugh. "Oh look at you, nearly six now, right?
He smiled and nodded. "Did you bring my stuff over?'
"Yes, I packed up some of your things and brought them over. We'll get the rest in the next few days, alright?" she asked.
Alex gave a grin and hugged her causing her smile to soften a bit as she hugged him back. Her eyes locked on the detective almost immediately.
"I hope…I hope we have an understanding," Sherlock began.
"What that you have people in the government who can pull strings for you?" Harry snapped.
Alex winced at the harsh voices and Sherlock decided to change tactics.
"I'll come help you move his things," he suggested.
"But Sherlock, your food will get cold," Mrs. Hudson said.
"No, it's fine. I can reheat it if need be. Harry will want to be on her way to go visit her…" he looked her over and found the clues, "girlfriend in a bit. I'll help with the boxes so she can be off faster. You two continue without me."
Harry scowled but set Alex down and walked back towards the door with Sherlock following behind her. He kept staring at her face, admiring the similarities of John's that were now denied him thanks to Moriarty. Alex had these too, but boyhood kept them soft and less distinct. Hers, while feminine, brought up strong memories of his old friend. John…the mere name sent waves of unexplored emotions through him.
"Look, I don't mean to take your nephew from you," Sherlock began. "Mary and John did list me as next legal guardian."
Harry sighed. "We got off on the wrong foot. Listen, I love Alex a lot, and like John and Mary…I want what's best for him. If they thought that was you…so be it. Just wish my brother trusted me enough…but I know why he didn't. Honestly, not sure I want a kid hanging around anyways. Not sure my new girlfriend would appreciate it… you'll let me visit him though?'
"Of course," Sherlock said. "I would never suggest keeping him from his relative. I swear if I had any thought of John wanting him with you I would gladly have surrendered my own rights to him…I…" he sighed, "I really don't know much about raising kids."
Harry chuckled at that. "Eh, neither do I. But you're probably doing just fine. Last time I was over for dinner Alex wouldn't stop talking about you." She opened the trunk of her car and Sherlock reached in to scoop up a box.
"Really?" he asked.
"Yep. I think you're his hero," Harry said. "Don't know what you did, but that kid adores you. And hey, that counts for something right?"
Sherlock was silent as he helped carry the boxes back towards 221 B. You're his hero. To hold such an important role for a child he couldn't even remember to feed, Sherlock wondered how long that would last. Alex would realize soon he wasn't a hero…he wasn't even close. Sherlock just had to hope the boy wouldn't be too disappointed by that realization.
"Hey," Harry said as they reached the door. "Seriously, you'll do great. Alex is a very loving little kid. He sees people's problems, but he loves them anyways…bit like Johnny that way. He's loyal to a fault that kid. And whatever you've done you've hooked him, and I swear there's probably next-to-nothing you could do at this point to drive him away. You've only got to look into his eyes to see it."
Sherlock followed her in through the door, not sure if he believed her or not. Alex greeted them in the entryway, bouncing up and down as Mrs. Hudson pointed out that he wanted to come help rearrange his room. Sherlock paid special attention to the boy's eyes as they went upstairs. He smiled at Harry and chattered to her about his book and the blanket fort and the flat and Mrs. Hudson. But when he said the name "Sherlock" for the first time to her, the detective swore he saw a spark light in the child's eyes. Perhaps Harry had a point. There was something there. Bright and warm, utterly human yet magical in the same right.
Sherlock swallowed the lump in his throat as he tried to process this information. He wanted to deduce this, wanted to use logic to twist and warp it to fit his understanding of the world. But the undeniable fact of the matter was that Alex indeed looked at him differently.
He thought of holding that warm body in his arms in the fort reminiscent of his childhood and allowing those secret longings to come out of his mouth. He'd told Alex the cave was safe, it was a place he could be scared. Sherlock had never quite imagined it was he who'd end up feeling the largest amount of fear at the end of the day. If Alex had truly entrusted him with his heart…who was to say he wouldn't break or crush the fragile thing? Sherlock knew nothing of the inner workings of children's love… he'd only have to hope Harry's interpretations were right, and that Alex would continue to love him no matter how much he continued to mess up.
A/N: Wrote this a bit fast worried I wouldn't have time later with an HP marathon. Please read and review!