A/N: This chapter seems really long and rambling, and if it is I'm sorry! Hope you enjoy anyway. It's Christmas at the Holmes residence. Thanks for reading, please review!

Tuesday is Christmas Eve, and both boys are incredibly excited. John is excited to give Sherlock his gift, and Sherlock is glad John is going to finally stop humming Christmas carols every time there's a lull in conversation.

Sherlock tries to stay out of the way all morning because of everyone setting up for the party. He decides to try to read in the sitting room, but his mother and aunt are in there chatting.

"Sherlock, my love," Rebecca says when they pause.

Sherlock looks up over the top of his book.

"Come here, my pet," she demands.

He gets up and goes to her without question. She pats the sofa between her and Ramona, so he shimmies his skinny butt between them.

Rebecca wraps an arm around his shoulder and wipes the curls out of Sherlock's eyes. "My beautiful son," she says, kissing his cheek. "How was your concert?"

"It was fine," Sherlock says, a bit annoyed. This is the first day Rebecca's been home since before his concert. Sherlock can't help but think that she should have been there instead of asking about it later.

"You played well? Perhaps later you could give us a show."

"Maybe," Sherlock mutters.

Rebecca strokes his hair and the back of his neck. "Where is John?"

Sherlock shrugs.

"Why don't you go fetch him? Get some fresh air, hmm?"

Sherlock nods. "Sure, Mother."

Rebecca kisses his cheek. "You're so handsome, my darling. Just like your father."

Sherlock smiles. "Thanks, Mother." He pats his aunt's knee and stands from the sofa.

He quickly leaves the house after that, narrowly dodging the cake entering the house and the florist with the flowers. He makes his way to John's house as fast as he can, eager to get away from his noisy block.

Sherlock notices that Dawn's car isn't in the driveway, so that means John is home alone. And usually when John's home alone, he stays up in his bedroom because the living room is too cold and he doesn't seem rude by staying up there.

So Sherlock decides to scare John. He climbs up the tree right next to John's bedroom window and jumps onto the roof under John's window. It's tilted, so he has to crawl very carefully to the window.

He knocks on the window first, knowing that alone would scare John. But when John doesn't answer right away, he frowns. He figures John is in the bathroom, since there's an empty glass right next to John's computer (which is right next to the window), so he quickly opens the window and falls in.

"Umf!" he grunts, falling roughly on the floor. "Damn…" he sighs, rubbing his elbows.

Sherlock then hears the toilet flush next door, so he quickly gets up to close the window, then falls back on the ground when he hears John exit the bathroom.

He hears John enter the bedroom, and he has to stifle a laugh. His stomach turns in anticipation, then he sees John's feet under the bed on the other side.

Sherlock sees his towel drop, so he grins and quickly stands.

"BOO!" Sherlock yells, holding his hands up like claws.

John screams loudly and throws his pants at Sherlock. "Dear fucking god, Sherlock!"

Sherlock laughs and falls onto John's bed, nearly crying because he's laughing so hard.

John grabs his pants and slips them on, then tackles Sherlock on the bed.

Sherlock continues to laugh, and John can't help but begin to laugh with him. He falls off Sherlock and lays next to him.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock says, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Saw the opportunity, so I took it."

John hits Sherlock's chest. "You arse."

Sherlock's laughter dies down and he looks over at John. John looks at him, then leans over and kisses his cheek.

"I got kicked out of my house," Sherlock explains. "My mother sent me over here to stay out of the way."

"Well, good," John says, grabbing Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock smiles at him.

After spending an hour trying to coax Sherlock to eat, John finally succeeds and they eat hot soup outside in the cold snow.

"By sitting out here, I might get sick," Sherlock tells John. "But if I get sick, I might not have to go to Oxford."

"Oh, yeah," John frowns. "When are you going?"

"The day after tomorrow."

John wraps his arms around Sherlock and digs his nose into Sherlock's cheek. "I'll have to soak up as much of you as I can before you go."

"I'll only be gone three days," Sherlock tells him. "I'll even be back before New Year's."

"Good," John says. "I was invited to Brady's party. I'm sure you can go, too."

Sherlock makes a face.

"Fine, fine," John concedes. "Maybe I'll hang out with you instead."

"My brother has a New Year's party," Sherlock says. "Maybe we could go there instead."

"You don't want to go to a party with our peers, but-"

"Our peers are Vince and Perry. My brother's peers are-"

"Lestrade?"

Sherlock chuckles. "Yeah. Just him."

John smiles at him. "Well, we'll talk about it later, ok? Because as much as you hate it, Brady is my best friend."

Sherlock frowns. He opens his mouth to reply, but John stops him.

"Yes, you're my best friend," John says. "Berk."

"Well," Sherlock replies, "You've only known me practically your entire life, and—"

"And I've seen you naked." John winks.

Sherlock blushes. "Shut up."

They finally wander back to Sherlock's house around four; John in his best suit and Sherlock yet to dress. They walk into the house and Clement hears them before he sees them.

"Mycroft?!" Clement yells from somewhere near the kitchen.

"No! It's us!" Sherlock shouts back.

Clement appears in the hallway. "Where the hell is your brother? I needed him here half an hour ago!"

Sherlock and John shed their coats, then begin to follow Clement back to the kitchen.

"Why do you need Mycroft so urgently?" Sherlock asks.

Clement shakes his head, clearly flustered with something. "It's nothing, love. Go upstairs and get dressed, ok?"

Sherlock looks confused, but he grabs John's hand and drags him upstairs.

Sherlock dresses quickly, for guests are set to arrive very soon. He puts on a black tuxedo with a black bowtie, and John beams at him.

"You're so bloody handsome, it's unreal," John says as they exit Sherlock's bedroom.

"So are you," Sherlock tells him. "I love your suit, I'm so glad you wore it."

John smiles at him. They get to the stairs, but before they step down, they pass Mycroft's bedroom and hear shouting. The words are muffled, they can't make out what's being said, but they know Clement is shouting at Mycroft. The boys look at each other, shrug, then go down the stairs.

Guests arrive soon, and John is greeted warmly by Sherlock's family. They've known each John for a very long time, of course, so it's perfectly normal for them to act this way towards him.

"John!" Sherlock's extremely friendly Uncle Asher, says. "I knew you'd be here, friend. My brother tells me you and Sherlock have finally taken your friendship to the next level. Wonderful, my dear, just wonderful. We all knew anyway! If it wasn't my Declan it'd be our little Sherly, that's what I tell my brother!" Asher pats John's shoulders, then leaves to greet the other guests.

John laughs, glancing at the blushing sixteen-year-old. "Sorry, mate," he tells Declan.

Declan scowls at his dad. "No worries, I just wish he'd quit saying that. I have a girlfriend!"

John laughs again.

Sherlock's mother only has one sister, Ramona, but Sherlock's father has four brothers and one sister, which means John hears Asher's speech many times from each of Sherlock's uncles and aunts. He makes it down the line of Clement's siblings, (Asher, Beatrice, Dallon, Elijah, and Fletcher), and enjoys all of what they have to say.

Sherlock's aunt, Beatrice, asks John a million questions about what he plans to do after school.

"I think I want to be a doctor, ma'am," John tells her.

"A doctor? My first husband was a doctor," she says. "Wicked man, but I'm sure you'll do just fine, John!"

John doesn't quite know whether to thank her or not, so he excuses himself to find Sherlock.

Dinner is served once everyone arrives, and Sherlock and John are placed at the 'kid' table. It's not quite a kid table anymore, since the ten occupants are aged between ten and seventeen, but nobody at the kid table is served wine.

Sherlock's youngest cousin, Gabby, is seated next to John. She's ten, and for the past three years in a row, she's sat next to John and beamed at him all through their meal. She always tells John how magnificent he is, using her giant vocabulary (and sometimes French), and John laughs it off every year.

"Oh, Gabby," her big sister, Nora, says. "Don't you know that John is Sherlock's boyfriend now?"

Gabby and the next youngest, Liam, look confused.

"Hasn't he always been?" Liam asks.

The table laughs.

"It's actually quite recent," John tells the young kids.

"Well, I don't care," Gabby says. "If it's quite recent, then John was my boyfriend first."

The table laughs again.

"Hey!" Sherlock cries, grabbing John's arm.

Gabby grabs John's other arm and yanks him towards her. She sticks her tongue out at Sherlock, then smirks.

John laughs. "She's got a point, Sherlock."

Sherlock pretends to pout and sits back in his seat.

After dinner, the adults sit around to have coffee, while the kids spread out through the house to do their own thing. Sherlock, John, and four of Sherlock's cousins get out a Monopoly game to play to pass the time.

They elect John to be the banker, because none of the Holmes children trust the others to not cheat (since the Easter Fiasco of 2010), and while he's distributing the money, Sherlock sees Mycroft slip off into Clement's study.

"Gabby, come here!" Sherlock calls to his younger cousin.

She happily goes to his side. "Yes?"

"Roll the dice for me, ok? Don't buy anything. I'll be right back."

Gabby smiles widely and sits on the pillow Sherlock was occupying.

Sherlock whispers to John that he'll be right back, kisses his ear, then follows Mycroft.

Sherlock slips into the study as quietly as he can. He doesn't even think Mycroft hears him at first, but from his chair facing the fire, Mycroft greets him.

"Sit down if you're going to linger," Mycroft says.

Sherlock noiselessly travels through the room, then sits at the chair next to his brother's.

"What'd you do?" Sherlock simply asks after long minutes of silence.

"I fucked up, Sherlock," Mycroft says.

"Did you kill someone?"

Mycroft glares. "No."

"Did you get Lestrade pregnant?"

Mycroft glares, but can't help but chuckle. "Don't be absurd."

"What did you do that was so bad, then?"

Mycroft takes a deep breath. "Well, to put it simply, I invested poorly."

"So you're…broke?"

"Broke? No. Unemployed? Yes."

"Good," Sherlock tells him.

Mycroft looks up.

"You hated that job," Sherlock amends. "Even Dad knows—"

"Dad doesn't know it enough to be terribly angry with me," Mycroft tells him.

"Does Mother know?"

Mycroft snorts. "Mother fired me."

Sherlock's jaw drops. "Now, that's unbelievable."

"How?"

"You're her golden child," Sherlock says. "You're her, you're—"

"Well, not anymore," Mycroft says. "And perhaps not for a while."

"What does that mean?"

"I've got to go away, Sherlock."

Sherlock scowls. "What? Why? Where? How?"

"I've got to earn my position back," Mycroft explains, "So Mother is sending me to the United States to work for Uncle Asher's outsourced branch. I don't know how long, perhaps a year, perhaps only a few months."

Sherlock shakes his head. "Find a new job, something better. You can't just leave."

"You're not a child anymore, Sherlock. You can't beg me to stay when a new opportunity arises for me."

"This isn't an opportunity, Myc. This is punishment!" Sherlock shouts.

"Lower your voi—"

"No! This is a load of shit. What am I to do? What's going to—"

"For once, Sherlock, please. I beg of you, do not make me think of only you in this decision. I have to do this."

"And what does Lestrade think, hmm? Surely he isn't on board with this."

"As much as you tease, little brother, Lestrade and I aren't—"

Sherlock holds up a finger to stop him. "We will discuss that load of crap later. You can't go, Mycroft."

"I have to."

Sherlock doesn't say anything, he just scowls at the fire.

"The good news is that you don't have to do to Oxford with me this week."

Sherlock glances at him. "Why?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow morning."

Sherlock stands from his seat. "Now, that isn't fair!"

Mycroft reaches for Sherlock's hand. "Sherlock, please—"

Sherlock yanks his hand away from Mycroft. "No, I won't calm down. Ugh, this isn't fair!" Sherlock quickly storms out of the room, slamming the door shut as he goes.

Though nobody else notices the teen rush through the house, Clement does. As Sherlock gets up the stairs, Clement excuses himself from conversation with his siblings and follows Sherlock.

He lightly knocks on the door and goes in without being asked.

"Go away," Sherlock mutters from his window sill, where he is sitting perfectly and gazing outside.

Clement goes to him instead and places a hand on his shoulder.

Sherlock looks up at him, angry tears staining his cheeks.

"You talked to Mycroft?"

"Yes," Sherlock says. "How could you do this? How could you just send him away like this?"

"I have to, Sherlock. Not to blame anybody, but this was your mother's doing. She's the boss, she's—"

"He doesn't even like this, Dad. This isn't even his career, it was a passing job like a bagger at a shop or one of those people who never fail to fuck up my coffee order."

Clement chuckles. "They wouldn't fuck it up if you didn't order the most complex things."

Sherlock frowns and looks out the window again.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock," Clement squeezes his shoulder. "Can we just…deal with this after everyone leaves, please?"

Sherlock sighs. He knows hiding away in his bedroom is rude to John and his family, so he turns away from the window and wipes his eyes.

"We'll talk later," Clement says, kissing Sherlock's head.

Sherlock nods and stands from the window.

Clement goes to the door and opens it, and he's shocked to see John on the other side.

"I saw you guys heading up here, I just thought I'd make sure everything's ok?"

"Fine, John," Clement says. "But I'll leave you two for a moment."

Sherlock and John stay in the hallway, knowing they shouldn't be long upstairs.

"What's up?" John curiously asks.

"It's a long story, ending with Mycroft's moving to America."

John looks shocked. "What?!"

"Yeah, a work thing. I just…" Sherlock rubs his face. "I'm a bit upset by it."

"Understandably so," John says, rubbing Sherlock's arms.

"We should get back," Sherlock mutters into his hand.

John reaches up and takes Sherlock's cheek, then turns Sherlock's head to look at him. "It'll be ok."

Sherlock nods, then leans over and kisses John lightly. "Thank you."

John nods, then takes Sherlock's hand and leads him downstairs.

They rejoin the game, and Sherlock lets Gabby be "on his team". She calls them the "I Love John Club", and Sherlock's mind is temporarily shifted to enjoying his family instead of being angry at his immediate family.

After they're playing for a little over an hour, Clement finds Sherlock and his younger cousin, Declan, and asks them to go to the den.

The boys follow, and they find Clement, Rebecca, Mycroft, and Asher waiting for them.

"As you know now, Sherlock," Rebecca says. "Your brother is leaving for America in the morning."

Sherlock scowls. "Yes."

"And Declan," Asher says to his son, "Your attitude and grades are severely slipping, young man."

Clement steps in. "Sherlock, we've agrees to let Declan stay here until he-"

"Gets his shit together," Asher says.

Both teens nearly jump out of their chairs.

"What?!" Declan yells at his dad.

"So you're shipping one kid off and bringing another in?!" Sherlock yells at his parents.

"We aren't shipping one off," Clement tries to reason with Sherlock. "Mycroft knows what he needs to do. And we've got plenty of space here, Declan won't even be taking Mycroft's bedroom-"

Asher steps in again. "The bottom line, boys, is that we are a family. My brother has agreed to help me and I'm helping him. Mycroft is going to America and you're staying here. That's final."

Sherlock and Declan fall back against their seats. Mycroft stands silently in the corner.

"Anything else?" Rebecca asks.

The boys shake their heads.

"Good," Asher says. He kisses each of the boy's head, then leads everyone out of the room.

Gifts are distributed not long after, but there's a shift of tension in the air. Sherlock and Declan are busy pouting, Mycroft is silently drinking his fifth glass of wine in the corner. The parents of these particular Holmes are less enthusiastic about the party, but Clement and Rebecca still attempt to be pleasant hosts. Everyone else seems oblivious, but John knows something more is up.

Once everyone begins to leave, John notices Mycroft quickly slip out of the house before anyone notices. He politely says goodbye to everyone, then he and Sherlock retreat to Sherlock's bedroom.

"So..." John starts as Sherlock begins removing his clothes. "Do you want your gift?"

Sherlock looks at him as if he'd forgotten John was there. "I'm sorry, John. I'm afraid I don't feel very much in the Christmas spirit anymore."

"It's ok," John says. "It can wait until tomorrow."

Sherlock nods and unbuttons his shirt.

"What happened?" John finally asks. "The full story. Declan included." He sits next to Sherlock.

Sherlock shrugs. "My parents are sending Mycroft to America. And apparently sending one kid away means they need another, so Declan to going to live with us for a while."

"And go to our school and stuff?"

Sherlock shrugs. "I guess."

"Well that's not bad, is it? Declan's fine, you get along with him. He's a nice enough kid."

Sherlock just shrugs again and pulls his shirt off.

John wraps an arm around him and rests his chin on Sherlock's shoulder. "But he's not Mycroft, I know."

Sherlock sighs.

"He'll be back in no time," John says. "You won't even notice he's gone."

"Perhaps."

John rubs his nose on Sherlock's soft skin and kisses his shoulder. "I'm here for you, love."

Sherlock nods, then turns his head to John. John looks up and kisses him.

John leaves not long after, and as Sherlock is saying goodbye, Mycroft returns. He's frantic and angry and rushes into the house.

Sherlock watches Mycroft, then turns back to John. "I'll see you tomorrow I love you goodnight," he kisses John quickly, then rushes inside.

Mycroft is pacing his bedroom when Sherlock gets up there. Sherlock just stands by the door and watches Mycroft.

Finally, Mycroft talks. "I'm done listening to you, little brother."

"Me? What did I do?"

"You made me think Lestrade was actually interested!"

"Anyone with eyes knows Lestrade is interested-"

"Apparently not, Sherlock! I went right over there, knocked on the door, and kissed him."

Sherlock begins to laugh. He's never seen his brother fuss over another person, and the sight is hilarious. "You idiot!" Sherlock cries. "Words help!"

"I'm not listening to you anymore," Mycroft says. "You were wrong, you didn't see, you-" he pauses. "What do you mean?"

"Words! You can't just make a move without further indication that you're going to. John and I danced around being romantic for years before we finally kissed, and right before we kissed, there were words. You probably just caught him off guard, that's all."

Mycroft sighs and sits on his bed. "I don't know, Sherlock. I-"

Mycroft is cut off by his phone ringing. He fishes it out of his pocket and checks the caller I.D.

"It's Lestrade!" Mycroft shouts, throwing the phone to Sherlock.

Sherlock continues to laugh as he answers. "Hello?"

"Sherlock...where's Mycroft?"

"Having a panic attack because apparently he's never had feelings before."

Mycroft glares. "Sherlock!"

Lestrade takes a deep breath. "As am I," he mutters, "Can I, uh...will he take my call?"

Sherlock holds the phone out for Mycroft. Mycroft hesitates, but takes it.

"Hello?" Mycroft answers. From there the conversation is one sided, but Sherlock hears Mycroft say, "Oh.-You do?-Oh, Greg, that's-Yes, I'll be there.-"

Mycroft hangs up smiling.

"Well?"

"He does like me," Mycroft says. "I...this is great..."

"I told you!"

Mycroft smiles up at his brother. "Thanks, Sherlock."

Sherlock smiles back and sits next to Mycroft. "So..." He frowns. "What time are you leaving?"

"My flight is at ten in the morning," Mycroft says.

"I'll go to the airport with you," Sherlock offers.

Mycroft shakes his head. "We'll say goodbye here."

Sherlock frowns deeper. "Why?"

"It's just something I need to do," Mycroft tells him. "I'll be back in no time."

Sherlock nods.

Mycroft rocks his body, nudging Sherlock. "Be good, ok?"

Sherlock nods.

Mycroft stands from his bed. "I'll be back, alright? Go to bed. See you in the morning."

Sherlock stands and follows him out.

Sherlock doesn't fall asleep right away, he just lays in bed thinking about the evening. Mycroft leaving and Declan staying is quite the news to receive all in one evening.

Sherlock can't help but dread Declan staying, just a little bit. He and Declan are only a few months apart, and ever since they were young, they've competed. Sherlock knows he's smarter, if only by a little bit, but Declan is outgoing and makes people laugh and has always been charming. They're two very different people, and Sherlock can't help but be afraid people will like Declan more.

Then, Sherlock realizes it only matters to him what one person thinks: John. And John's known Declan long enough to still fancy Sherlock more. So Sherlock smiles in the dark, sends John a quick text saying "Merry Christmas, I love you.", then goes to sleep.