Hello all! This is my first Sherlock and Supernatural fic so feel free to critique me! This first chapter takes place in March of 2011 so right after HoB for Sherlock and Season 7 for Supernatural. Enjoy!


John H. Watson didn't bother even locking his computer as he set it down after putting up his latest blog entry. It wasn't like it did anything anyway so why bother? The menace himself stood by the window, his precious violin resting easily in his arms as piercing grey eyes scanned the street below.

"I see you've given up."

"Sherlock, when you can figure out the password no matter what I do, I don't know why you would want me to continue."

"That's simple. To see if you're actually becoming smarter. So far the results have been dismal."

With a huff of annoyance, John headed upstairs while Sherlock Holmes resumed his people watching. Boring really. An adulteress here, a postman with sick infant over there on his usual route, it was so utterly mundane that he actually wished that Lestrade would come to him with a ridiculously easy case. It would only take up ten minutes of his time, twenty if he went to the Yard himself, but it would be better than nothing. Yes, the Baskerville 'hound' had been interesting but not even a day back in London had captured his fleeting attention.

Scanning across Baker Street once more, something finally caught his eye. It was an ordinary looking man at first but it was the tiny pieces that were more interesting. He had honey colored hair that seemed to stay in place despite the breeze that had been common as of late. The swagger to his walk exuded confidence yet with the way he leaned back slightly made it look like there was a weight that he was carrying. Not only that, there seemed to be a concealed blade on his person and yet despite the fact that he was armed, he casually ate a candy bar.

Suddenly, the man looked up and stared straight at Sherlock and even the detective had to actively keep himself from flinching at the intensity in the chestnut colored eyes that seemed to look into him. The serious look on the stranger's face suddenly melted away to a grin while he made a small wave and mimed himself answering a phone.

Sherlock actually jumped when his cell phone rang from the desk and he glanced at it before turning back to the man only to find him completely gone with no trace that he'd even been there except for a lone candy wrapper on the ground. With a frown, he returned to his phone and answered it.

"Yes?"

"You kept me waiting long enough and you owe me a favor for letting you get into a highly confidential military base so you could look for a hound."

"Ugh, it's you. Why don't you go stuff yourself with cake like you usually do and leave me alone?"

"Honestly, I rather would but Mummy has ordered us both home for something she deems important."

"…ordered?"

"Completely mandatory and non-negotiable. When I asked why she was literally demanding our presence, she would only say that it had to do with your biological father."

Sherlock was stunned. In his 35 years of life, his mother had absolutely refused to give him or his brother any information on who had helped conceive the younger genius. He had looked into everything but there was not a single trace to be found. Even his DNA was odd since the fraternal matches did not match a single person in any database and even Mycroft had checked if only to find out before his brother. The fact that their mother had suddenly decided to break her silence…was daunting.

"By your silence, I am assuming you will be coming?"

"I've been trying to find this out since I was old enough to know what to look for. What do you think?"

"The car is already outside. We pulled up while you suggested that I should enjoy some cake."

"Shut up."

He hung up on his older brother and quickly put on his shoes and coat.

"John! I've picked up a lead on one of the biggest cases in my career!"

John poked his head out of his bedroom with a befuddled look.

"And what would that happen to be?"

Sherlock merely gave him a mad but completely sincere grin.

"My father. Mycroft is kidnapping me at my mother's orders. I don't expect to be back for another day at least once she has me in her claws."

John, after blinking at the fact he was hearing more about Sherlock's family life than he ever had in the two years that he'd known his flat mate, merely smiled.

"Have fun!"

"Oh but John, there'd have to be a murder for that to occur and I don't have the right poison to slip into Mycroft's sweets stash yet."

"…..I really hope you're joking."

Rather than answer, Sherlock rushed down the stairs to meet the official black car.

It wasn't really the fact that he was going to find out the longest held mystery in his lifetime that had him antsy beyond belief despite the fact he told his brother otherwise, it was the fact that it was now of all times.

Sherlock could recall the countless times he had tried to worm the information out of his mother through various methods as a child and yet each and every time she would shake her head with a smile and merely state the fact that 'he was an angel'.

Like that did any good if he was a good man or not.

So now Sherlock sat there squirming for the first time in years as the car pulled up to the cottage that their mother now resided in since Mycroft now lived in the manor that was much closer to London and was their childhood home.

"Calm down Sherlock, it's not like the information is going to do much more now than later." Mycroft chided and Sherlock resisted the urge to merely flip him off.

"Come off it brother dearest. I know you're just as curious as I am to find this out. I mean, you dropped the ball by not figuring out that mother was dating someone when you were a child and didn't even know until I was conceived."

That was also true. Even as a child, Mycroft still had his ability to deduct and it was powerful even at a young age. The fact that their mother had met with a man and conceived Sherlock without Mycroft detecting a single change in anything was a highly unusual occurrence and something that Sherlock relished in bringing up.

"Sherlock, I was six."

"And you were solving math that sixteen year olds would have difficulty with as well. You just don't like admitting that you missed something crucial."

Mycroft huffed as the car pulled to a stop.

"I'm still convinced that my childhood theory of you being an alien is correct."

"You could only hope, brother."

They exited the car together, a rare act of solidarity for their mother while Violet Holmes, the woman herself, waited at the door for them, absolutely beaming as she ushered them into the house.

"Boys! Come in, come in! I made cookies yesterday that are your favorite!"

"Anything with sugar and drenched in fat is his favorite." Sherlock muttered only for Mycroft to glare at him as he grabbed one of the offered sweets.

As they took a seat at the kitchen table, Sherlock did a cursory scan of his mother's home and nothing seemed to have changed that would initiate this meeting. It was all still rather odd.

"So I'm assuming that Mycroft told you why I wanted to talk to you in person and I know you've always wanted to know but to start off, it's been for your own protection."

Sherlock was honestly dumbfounded.

"For my own protection?!"

"Surely Mother-" Mycroft began but Violet shushed him.

"No. I am absolutely certain about this and before Sherlock was born, his father and I talked about the dangers of what came after extensively and I honestly still wouldn't have told you now if the need hadn't arisen." The brothers looked at each other in silence before turning back to their mother. Mycroft was about to speak again when Violet cut him off.

"Even with your position as a 'minor politician in the government' wouldn't stop whoever was after Sherlock. Now, the real reason why I wanted you here Sherlock, was that your father has come back."

Sherlock was still in a state of shock.

"What?"

Violet smiled at him gently and put a hand on his cheek.

"He honestly would have come back sooner but it was for your own protection dear. I am one of three people who know who your father is and the other two are him and his own father. He came back because of dire circumstances that couldn't wait any longer."

"And those are?"

"Why don't you let me answer them myself?"

Sherlock and Mycroft whipped their heads over at the man sitting at the fourth chair who was definitely not sitting there or even in the house a second ago. Then Sherlock realized who it was.

"You!"