"I don't have to kiss him right?" Greg asks, his mouth full of chewed up bits of fried chicken. Next to him, Luke is fighting with his own meal. A few peas bounce from his plate and onto Greg's. Greg looks away from the grown-ups to glare at Luke who is now piling pea after pea on the edge of Greg's plate.

His mother shakes her head. "Of course not, sweetheart, you're still too young to do that. Luke, honey, please stop putting your veggies on Greg's plate."

Luke stops but does it again when Greg's mother begins to talk to Aunt Isobel. Greg retaliates by grabbing the bottle of hot sauce and squirting a great amount on Luke's meal. "Get the mustard," Luke orders him. He doesn't seem to understand that Greg is avenging his food. Together, they pour condiment after condiment until there's a huge mess on not only the plate, but the paper placemat beneath it as well.

"You're going to die hungry," Greg warns him, mid-squeeze. "Unless you eat that."

Luke frowns at the thick brown soup that was, just a few seconds ago, a half-finished meal of fried chicken and rice. "Muuuum," he whines, banging his fork on the table to get their attention. An accusing finger is suddenly pointed at Greg. "Greg messed with my food."

"I didn't do it!" Greg yells. A few people turn their heads to look at the noisy family. "It was Luke!"

Luke gapes at him. "It was not!" he says loudly. "He tricked me!"

In the end, it is both their fault. Greg's mother apologises to the manager, who has come out to inspect the noise, while Aunt Isobel drags them outside and scolds them. She slaps the back of their hands for good measure. The slaps aren't hard but they do the job of leaving both boys ashamed of themselves.

"Now you two behave or else we'll go home right now," she warns.

"Still your fault," Luke mumbles but he grabs Greg's hand and tugs him forward.

The tailor making Greg and Luke's suits is an ancient Omega who keeps mistaking Luke for Greg and Greg for Luke. Neither children like her very well, but they forget that as soon as Madame Siccion brings out their suits. "Why's yours black?" Luke complains when Greg tries his on. It's a perfect fit and when they make him face the mirror, they coo over him and tell him how handsome he looks. Greg doesn't really feel handsome. He stares at the little boy in the mirror and thinks that he looks the same, only with nicer clothes.

"Yours is nice," Greg tells Luke who's also wearing his. It's brown, though, a colour Greg knows Luke dislikes. Apparently, neon green is not an acceptable colour to wear in a formal event. But colour aside, the suit does look nice. It's not like Greg's. Madame Siccion says it's more like Mycroft's, though Greg has yet to see what Mycroft's looks like. Mycroft won't even tell him what colour it is. He wonders if it will be red or orange, like Mycroft's coats.

"You also get that ring," Greg adds, pointing at the silver band around the ring finger of Luke's right hand. "I want one."

"You're getting a mate and you still want a ring? Greedy," Luke jeers.

"I am not!"

"Yes you are."

To make matters worse, he twists the ring around his finger and tells Greg how shiny it looks and how cool it is. Greg glares at him. His mum told him countless of times already that only Luke gets a ring because he's Greg's sentinel and only sentinels get the ring. The only thing that stops him from stealing the ring from Luke is the knowledge that Mycroft doesn't get a ring, either.

Luke turns to his mother while still playing with the ring. "What does a sedinel do again, anyway?"

Aunt Isobel turns to Greg's mum. "It's sentinel, love. You look after Greg until he and Mycroft bond properly," she tells him.

Both children just look at her.

"You make sure that he and Mycroft are getting along. It's more of a position, actually, not exactly a duty, Kind of like being the best man. The ring—it's a symbol that you're a witness to their pre-bond. At least, that's what I think. I'm not too familiar with pre-bonding ceremonies since they're really just for aristocratic families."

Neither of them say anything. Finally, Aunt Isobel sighs then says to Luke, "You just make sure no Alphas hurt Greg, not even Mycroft."

Luke frowns. "But I've been doing that my whole life! Why's it only now I get this ring?"

"It's because you're stupid," Greg says simply. Any other time, Luke would attack him and they'd have a wrestling match, but he's far too distracted by the ring on his finger. It's really just a simple silver band which will be replaced every time Luke gets bigger and it's not even expensive. But it's shiny. Greg likes shiny things.

He doesn't care if it means he's greedy. That ring is quite nice.

"I like this seminal thing," Luke announces.

"It's sentinel, sweetheart," Aunt Isobel corrects.

"Sedinel, Seminel. Sentinel," Luke says each word carefully. "Sentinel. Yeah, that's right. I like it."

"And why's that?"

Luke smiles sweetly. "It makes it okay to hurt Mycroft."

"How about Greek mythology?" Mycroft asks. He takes a seat on the armchair beside Sherlock's crib then opens the book with a bit of difficulty due to its heavy weight. An illustration of Kronos eating his children appears. Mycroft frowns at the gory image then turns the page until it lands on an illustration of a baby Hermes constructing a lyre. He lifts the book up as much as he can and shows the drawing to Sherlock.

"This is you," he says as he turns the page. The picture changes to the interaction Hermes and Apollo. "And that's me," he adds, pointing at the older of the two gods. "They're brothers, like us."

Sherlock blinks at the picture before focusing his eyes once more on the stuffed animal Mycroft bought for him. He thrusts a small hand through the bars and makes grabbing motions. Mycroft sighs and closes the book once more.

"You're so attached to this," Mycroft says as he picks the toy from the floor. "You can't bring this all the time with you when you're older, Sherlock."

Sherlock, of course, doesn't understand any of it. At four-months-old, all he understands is that Mycroft is family and that the bee/bear must always be within his sight. Mycroft is quite pleased that Sherlock likes it so much. He dangles the toy over the crib and watches as Sherlock giggles and tries to make a grab for it.

"That's unclean, Sherlock," Mycroft chides when Sherlock latches his mouth onto one of the bear's ears. He whines when Mycroft tries to pry it off him, his face crumpling in a way that warns Mycroft Sherlock's about to have a good cry. He lets him have it in in the end. His hand itches and he wants so much to take the bear out of Sherlock's mouth but he stops himself and settles instead for stroking the soft black curls on Sherlock's head.

"Greg chose that," Mycroft says. Father once told him not to talk to Sherlock so much since he doesn't really understand but Mycroft enjoys it.

Besides, there's no one else to talk to.

"We're going to have a pre-bond," Mycroft continues. Sherlock has stopped chewing on the bear's ear and is now staring at him. "Then when we're older we're going to bond and then marry."

He's not exactly sure how he feels about the pre-bond, but Father tells him it's his duty, that it will make him proud if he goes through with it. Mycroft likes making Father proud of him, and frankly, Greg is nice, although a little slow. The only bad thing about having a pre-bond with him is Luke Rochewell who Mycroft really, really does not like. He asked Mummy if they can just discard the tradition of having a sentinel but Mummy forbade it and said that it's really the choice of the Omega's family since they're the one's going to choose the sentinel in the first place.

"It's not bad to have Luke as Greg's guardian," Mummy told him while Madame Siccion was taking his measurements. "Luke's there to make sure no one hurts Greg when he's away from you. And besides, you'll have an Alpha friend."

Mycroft did not tell Mummy that having Luke as a sentinel is a disadvantage as it means he's been given permission to hurt Mycroft if he ever does something bad to Greg. He may be a year younger but he's violent. His behaviour is just like those of the other kids in school, the ones who tease Mycroft for being too clever. Mycroft's eyes fall on the scrapes on his fingers, made more obvious against the black background that's Sherlock's hair. It was Evan who pushed him for getting the answer to Mr Irving's question right.

At least he didn't cry.

Distantly, Mycroft hears a door slam shut, followed by voices. Father fighting with Mummy again. He's in a horrible mood. Father doesn't shout often but when he does, it means that he's very angry at something and that Mycroft had better stay away. He can't hear what they're arguing about but their voices scare Sherlock. He begins to sob.

"Don't cry," Mycroft chides. Father is already in a bad mood and Sherlock's crying will only worsen it. Sherlock, however, only cries harder.

Mycroft looks around, searching for a distraction. There are actually a lot of things to distract Sherlock. His room is cluttered with toys and picture books, gifts from family members who got excited about having another male Omega in the family after several years. Mycroft picks one toy after the other, showing them to Sherlock but they don't make him stop weeping. The bee/bear is already in his crib and that's the one thing that can make Sherlock stop crying. Mycroft walks around quickly until he finds the music box. It's a small, simple thing. Not expensive either. On the lid, engraved in the dark word are the words from Jon W. Mycroft has no idea who Jon W. but his gift does the trick of calming Sherlock down.

He sets it on the armrest then pops opens the lid. A song Mycroft identifies as "Für Elise" plays. It's not enough to drown out their parents' voices but it's enough to distract Sherlock. He looks at the box curiously then thrusts his arm out and points at it. Mycroft ignores him this time. He picks up the mythology book and takes a seat in the armchair.

He can still hear them. Mycroft looks at his brother. Sherlock's sucking his thumb now, sleepy and content.

There's a sound of glass breaking, followed by another sound, one Mycroft identifies as his mother crying.

Mycroft opens the book and begins to read out loud.

Since his parents sat him down and explained to him why he's going to have a pre-bond with Mycroft, Greg has been going to the Holmes' estate. Before, the Holmes' estate was merely the huge house up on the hill that seemed to exist in a world of its own. Now it has become Greg's favourite place in the world. He likes the enormous house with the many rooms and he likes the miniature forest and the huge pond where they can go searching for frogs. Luke, because of his sentinel duties, has to go with him as well.

Mycroft doesn't like it. He and Luke haven't liked each other since Luke tackled Mycroft to the ground and hit him again and again until the ice cream vendor pulled them apart. Greg tries not to mind it, but it's hard when both boys keep demanding his attention. Mycroft deserves more of it, of course, because Greg's going to have a pre-bond with him and he and Luke have known each other since they were born. But if also feels like a betrayal to Luke when Greg spends time with Mycroft.

So Greg just does the next best thing and hangs out with little Sherlock.

"Don't touch him", Mycroft snipes at Luke who has just prodded Sherlock's cheek with his finger. The ring around his finger has been polished and is now gleaming brightly against his pale skin. Greg looks at it enviously.

"Too late, I already did it," Luke says back, his hand still hovering over Sherlock's face. They narrow their eyes at each other, and Greg can already see it, can already see Luke tackling Mycroft and hitting him again, maybe with Sherlock's rattle. There are no adults in the room and if they fight, Sherlock will cry, and Greg definitely doesn't want to hear that again. His eardrums nearly burst the last time Sherlock had a tantrum. He looks at both boys quickly, searching for a solution.

"Your suit looks cool," Greg says to Mycroft quickly just as Luke straightens himself. It's grey but what Greg really likes is the silver tie pin, the one that's shaped like an owl. Greg thinks that it's also unfair that Mycroft gets something shiny. He doesn't complain, though. Mycroft has this way of looking at him, like he's far too young and doesn't understand anything. Greg hates that look. He may be a year younger and Mycroft might be a lot smarter than him, but he's not stupid. Luke is.

Mycroft frowns at him. "You've said that before," he points out. Luke is staring at Greg disbelievingly, but luckily doesn't say anything as Sherlock has grabbed onto Luke's finger and has started gnawing on his sentinel ring.

"Ew, stop that!"

"Sherlock, that's dirty," Mycroft scolds over Luke's screaming to get Sherlock away from his hand before he chews it off. Greg clamps his hands over his ears. They don't stop arguing until the door opens and Mycroft's mother walks in. She stands in the threshold for a moment, taking in everything: Luke's saliva-covered ring, Mycroft's messy hair which Luke pulled to make it stand at a funny angle, Greg with his hands over his ears, and Sherlock still trying to grab onto Luke's hand.

"Go outside," she orders them as she carries Sherlock in her arms, "before you wreck the whole house."

Mycroft nods then quickly takes Greg's left hand at the same time Luke takes his right one. They glare at each other.

"Let go," Mycroft tells him.

"No, you let go," Luke says back.

Greg looks at both of them. "I don't really need someone to hold my hand, you know."

But of course, they don't listen to this either, so Greg ends up being tugged back-and-forth between them. Luke lets him go first, but that's only because he gets distracted by the backyard. Greg has to admit that it does look great.

"That's one big cake," Luke says, pointing at the enormous chocolate cake on the buffet table. Greg stares at it as well. It's big enough for him and Luke and Mycroft to get buried alive in. He thinks for a moment that Mycroft doesn't really care about it, but when Greg looks at him, he sees that Mycroft is also looking at the cake with a fascinated expression on his face. He fixes it when he catches Greg looking, feigning disinterest.

"Will it hurt?" Greg asks as Mycroft helps him up one of the high chairs they provided. Mycroft gets on his without difficulty. The doctor, the same auburn-haired man Greg saw in the hospital, pats his head encouragingly.

Mycroft shrugs. "I have no idea," he admits.

Mycroft's mother explained things beforehand. They'll have to do a blood exchange. "It's just like getting shots from the doctor," she said. "It won't hurt at all."

It won't hurt, she said. You'll feel better once it's done, she said.

Mycroft's mother is a liar.

Luke waves at him from the crowd. Greg tries a smile, one that fades quickly when the doctor holds up a syringe with the largest needle Greg has ever seen. "Cool," he hears Luke say as the doctor rubs alcohol on the back of his neck. The liquid cools quickly around his skin. It's a pleasant feeling but it doesn't last long. The needle pierces his skin slowly. Greg can't help it. He screams.

Mycroft's hand is still in his. Greg doesn't meant to, but he squeezes hard until it's over. A smaller needle pierces his skin once more but it's much less painful.

There is something very wrong with adults, Greg thinks as he sobs and shakes in his chair. He's still in pain and yet they're clapping, like he's done the most wonderful thing in the world. Greg remembers the time he fell off his bike and scraped his knee. His mother yelled at him, then, for being reckless. That didn't even hurt. But now his neck feels like it's on fire, and she's just standing there, smiling at him proudly.

Grown-ups are weird.

Mycroft's crying as well, but not as much as him. He's wiping his face quickly, as if he's embarrassed to be seen crying. Greg has no idea why, but the sudden urge to cling to Mycroft hits him hard. He thinks about fighting it for a moment, but his neck still hurts and all he wants is a hug and maybe some of that cake. Mycroft doesn't even fight him off when Greg grabs onto him and buries his face in his shoulder. A few people coo over them, and Greg hears the clicking noises that means someone's taking pictures.

"Sorry," Greg tells Mycroft when he finally releases him. His neck doesn't hurt anymore, but he feels upset again when he sees what he's done to Mycroft's suit. "I got snot on your owl."

Mycroft looks down at his tie pin. "That's fine," he assures him, though Greg isn't very convinced. He keeps looking at the pin with an unhappy expression on his face. In the end, he takes it off and leaves both pin and tie on the table.

Luke is already half-finished with his second slice of cake when Greg and Mycroft join him at the table. The sentinel ring is now covered in frosting and so is the lower part of his face. Greg wonders where Aunt Isobel is. He finds her soon enough and sees that she's been distracted by one of Mycroft's older cousins.

That ring really should be his. Greg's the one looking out for Luke, not the other way around.

"You cried," Luke says to Mycroft happily, his mouth full of cake. Bits of it fly out of his mouth. Mycroft backs away carefully.

The older boy frowns at him disapprovingly. "You made a mess."

Luke doesn't deny it; it's not like he can, anyway. He sets his fork down, takes a long drink from his cup, belches, then announces, quite seriously, "I need to pee."

Greg glares at him. "I'm not going with you! You always get me into trouble."

"Fine," Luke mutters. "You're no fun, anyway."

Luke isn't allowed to go anywhere alone on his own. He has a penchant for breaking things, his mum said. But he really, really needs to pee, and his parents are too busy making new friends to bother with him. Not even his older sister Naomi will take him. She went off with an older kid who looks like Mycroft. Luke has learned that when his sister with is with a boy, he's not supposed to disturb them.

He still needs to pee.

The house is quiet as most of the guests are outside, drinking and stuffing their faces. Stuffing their faces without him! That's just mean. Luke walks around quickly until he finds the bathroom. It's quite nice, the bathroom. It has a big tub and bottles that smell really nice. Luke pees then just stands there for a moment, wondering if it will be a bad idea if he takes a bath and plays with all the shampoo and lotions.

That would be very bad. Very, very bad.

He takes one of the bottles anyway.

The way back, Luke finds, is difficult. The house is really huge and has twisting corridors and after that even more twisting corridors. Luke scratches his head. He's about to go to plan b (scream his head off until someone finds him) when he hears voices in the room next to him.

Don't look don't look don't look.

Luke stuffs the bottle of bubble bath in his pocket then peers through the small gap. There are two men inside, one of whom he recognises as Mycroft's father. Mr Holmes is sitting while the other man is walking about, carrying something in his arms.

"He looks just like you, Siger," the man says. He's a short man with cropped blond hair and dark blue eyes. Mr Holmes looks at them both with a bored expression.

"He's an Omega," Mr Holmes complains. He makes a face, as if he's just swallowed something disgusting.

The man glares at him. "You talk like he's got a disease. He's adorable."

"Nat," Mr Holmes says, "do you have any idea how hard it will be to raise him? Medical exams, special schools, self-defence lessons…" He wrinkles his nose. "I'll have to find an Alpha for him as well. Yours is one, right? A boy?"

"John?" The man laughs. "He's only three, Sig."

"I don't mean today. When they're older. It will save me some trouble."

"I don't know. Maybe." The man, Nat, grins and looks around the room. "I can't imagine him in this setting, though. You know how we are. We're not…posh."

"You can say that again."

They laugh. Luke scratches his leg. He should go but there's something exciting about listening in on a conversation he's sure he's not supposed to be hearing.

"He looks like Sherrinford, you know?" Mr Holmes says. Nat frowns at him. "Too much like him, in fact."

"You've been seeing him, then?"

Mr Holmes purses his lips. "You don't approve."

Nat rolls his eyes. "Oh come on, Sig. I don't know anything about bonding but I do know you're playing a dangerous game. You can't balance it."

"Says the man who had three girlfriends when he was twenty."

Nat laughs. "Shut up, Holmes, before you poison your son's ears."

Luke doesn't want his ears poisoned. He steps away from the door as quietly as possible then rushes off to wherever the exit is.

He forgets about their exchange once he's reunited with his cake.