Thanks for the reviews once again! I enjoy writing this fic and I'm not one of those people who won't post unless I get a certain number of reviews. I'm satisfied to know at least a few people like it. A writer's job is to entertain and put their talents out there. As a writer, I'm satisfied with as much or as little feedback that I get on my work. If at least one person likes it, I've done my job :)

Chapter 3

John was still sipping his now cold cup of tea. Thoroughly disgusted with it, but for lack of better things to do for the past half hour, he decided cold tea was better than being stuck in the storm that was occurring in Mycroft's office. He heard many shouts, threats, and even some banging around. Clearly their discussion was not going well.

Suddenly he heard a furious "piss off!" and Mycroft's door opened and slammed shut, a furious Addie stormed out. He watched as she stomped to the loveseat opposite him and plopped herself down onto it forcefully. She was literally shaking and seething, her face turned away from his. John sat there awkwardly, not knowing quite what to do. Addie had stopped seething and was now shakily breathing, her sniffles and wiping of her eyes not lost on him.

"Are you ok?" he asked, thinking it would be rude not to express some concern.

"Fine!" she snapped.

"Ok then. Great." He replied.

There was silence between them for another minute or so before Addie broke it.

"They keep asking me to explain it all to them. To tell them how I did it and where I've been. But I just can't! They won't understand!" she said.

John sat there quietly not knowing what to say.

"It's just…all this has happened so fast. I'm not prepared for any of it. I need more time!" she said, her anger deflating, her posture taking on one of defeat and exhaustion.

"Do you know what it's like to carry something around with you for so long that it becomes this all-consuming part of your everyday life? Like your life, who you are, who you were, is defined by this one thing and you know your only chance of surviving it is to lock it away and try to deal with it yourself. Then someone comes along and asks you to just let it out; lay it all bare, as if it's not something that has been consuming your day-to-day thoughts and actions. As if it can be fixed by sharing your feelings over a nice cuppa and some chocolate biscuits. Do have any idea what that's like, Dr. Watson?" Addie asked.

There was a pregnant pause and a long exhale from John before he answered, his eyes transfixed on a spot on the carpet.

"Yes," he answered. "I do."

Addie's head snapped up to look him in the eye before allowing an empathetic and understanding smile to cross her lips. John's eyes looked up to catch hers and he returned the smile, feeling the locks on his heart loosen just a bit.

"So," John started. "They still discussing in there?" he asked.

"Yes. Mycroft likes to give the appearance of a discussion, all the while forgetting that a discussion requires the input of the other party to be heard and considered," Addie said exasperatedly. "I'm sure the discussion is ranging from Sherlock trying in vain to negotiate with Mycroft, and them sharing observations and ideas about how to get me to reveal my "secrets" to them," she finished. "It's all rather tedious and predictable."

John absently sipped at his cold tea and nodded his head.

"That tea must be crap now. Cold and tasteless," Addie said.

"It is actually. Disgusting," he answered.

"And yet, you're still drinking it," she said.

"Yep," John answered.

"Because you've nothing better to do."

"Yep."

"Well, you might as well get comfortable and find something else to do. Knowing those two, we could be here a while," she said, grabbing a magazine from the table and reclining on the loveseat.

John grabbed the newspaper off the table and began flipping through it. He abandoned his cup of crap tea and was now idly perusing the headlines.

Addie broke the silence once again, lowering her magazine to peer over the top of it. "So how is it?" she asked. "Living with Sherlock?"

"It's…it's rather interesting," he replied.

"That's putting it nicely," Addie snorted. "Come on John, you can be real with me. I lived with him practically my whole life. I know what he's like."

"Ok then. Living with Sherlock is madness. It's infuriating and frustrating at times. He never cleans up, he's always making a mess, and those experiments! The things he stashes in the pantry, good lord!" John exclaimed.

Addie chuckled and shook her head. "Ahh, his experiments. Those are fun aren't they?"

"If that's what you want to call them," John answered.

"He used to let me help him when we were younger. Loved to teach me all about science and the amazing things you can find in the mundane. I stopped helping him though, after a few years." Addie said.

"Why? What happened?" John asked.

"He used my favorite Barbie doll as his test subject. I came home from school to a melted and singe- haired toy lying on my bed. I cried hysterically for hours and refused to be his assistant ever again."

John couldn't help but chuckle. Addie fixed him with a patented Holmes glare. "It's not funny!" John was still failing to hide his amusement.

"Well I guess it kind of is. Sounds a bit ridiculous too when you say it out loud."

"Sibling rivalry traced back to a melted Barbie doll? Sounds pretty ridiculous to me," John laughed.

"Well, to Sherlock's credit, he did buy me a new doll for Christmas that year, so I couldn't stay mad at him for long."

"He does that a lot doesn't he? Make you angry then go and redeem himself to the point where you are angry that you just can't be angry at him anymore," John said, smiling.

Addie laughed and looked at John again. She could tell by the wistful look in his eyes that Sherlock had definitely found a way to break into his guarded heart and gain a bit of his trust.

Addie shifted on the loveseat and yawned. The magazine came to rest on her chest and she continued to study John.

"So, John, do you have any siblings?" she asked.

"Yes actually. A sister. Harry…er, Harriet. She's older than me. Likes to go by Harry. She's a…umm…"

"A lesbian," Addie finished for him.

"Well, yes, to put it mildly. Harry and I were never really close. Not because of her…preferences. Just because of our personalities. We couldn't be more opposite really. I remember, one time when we were younger…"

Addie was listening to John's story with vague interest. Her desire for sleep winning out over talking with John. Her eyes were battling with her to stay closed and let her rest and she was fighting it with all she had. It was a losing battle though and her exhaustion won out, pulling her into a peaceful sleep.

"And then I said, 'Harry, if you ever mess with my stuff again, I'll tell mom all about your lunchtime escapades with Linda.' You should have seen her face! Never seen her so scared!" John finished, laughing, looking to Addie for her reaction.

He was met with a snoring and sleeping Addie, sprawled out on the sofa, hand dangling to the floor, magazine lying open on her chest. John smiled and shook his head as he picked up the newspaper and started reading.

A short time later Mycroft's door opened and both brothers came through the door.

"Addie! We've reached a decision and nothing you say will change it. We've decided…" Sherlock was cut off by a loud "Shhh!" from John.

He looked curiously at where John was pointing and saw Addie sleeping on the loveseat. Mycroft chuckled from behind him and shook his head.

"Still stubborn as always. Refuses to give in until she can't fight it anymore."

"I knew she was exhausted. I mean, you saw the state of her. She looked ready to drop any moment," Sherlock said.

All three men were silent, staring at Addie and not knowing where to go from here.

"She sure knows how to ruin a good conflict. Didn't even get to use my "big brother" voice," Sherlock said trying to sound mad but failing. The affectionate smile on his face betraying his annoyance.

"Well, it's been a long day for all of us. Best be getting home and resting ourselves," Mycroft said. He walked over, removed the magazine, and placed it on the table before carefully and gently lifting Addie into his arms. He walked out of the room while Sherlock and John followed.

Mycroft continued to gently carry Addie out to the car that was waiting outside. John crawled in, followed by Sherlock and Mycroft set Addie down next to him, careful not to jostle her too much. Sherlock grabbed her arm to steady her and allowed her head to come to a rest on his shoulder.

John thought it very odd to see the Holmes brothers being so gentle, caring, and…human. But as much as it confused him and surprised him, he found it strangely fitting. Just two men looking out for their younger sister, quite possibly the only one with the ability to crack their cold demeanors. He decided that if he had to have anyone looking out for him, he'd sure as hell want it to be the Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes.