Little Sherlock 4

"John! Thank God! You've got to help me. All these people are insane!" Sherlock cried out, instinctively reaching out his grubby little hands for the doctor.

Molly gave him a strange look.

"Someone's awfully grumpy. Do you need a n-a-p?" she spelled out the last word as if Sherlock wouldn't be able to catch it.

The three year old glared daggers at her and folded his arms.

"No I don't need a n-a-p," he spelled it out just to mock her, "What I need is to go back to my flat with John."

Moriarty shook his head and made a 'tsk tsk' sound.

"You're too young to have your own flat Sherlock. You're going to live with me, your father."

John stood with a perplexed look. He walked forward.

"Wait a minute. You're not his father."

The villain frowned at him.

"Of course I am. I adopted him after all."

"You mean you already signed the papers and everything?"

This time it was Moriarty who was confused.

"The wha-?"

John blinked at him.

"The adoption papers. You know, the things you need to adopt."

Moriarty had never looked more at a loss. John felt awkward having to clarify something like this to someone who's suppose to be a genius.

"You can't just grab a random child off the street and call him your son," he sighed, "You need custody rights."

Mycroft took this opportunity to step in.

"That's correct. And since I'm the only one here who's actually family to Sherlock, I should be the one to take care of him. So hand him over."

Sherlock was about to make a snide remark about dieting when he was cut off by Moriarty. The villain's grasped tightened into a protective manner.

"Oh no you don't! Maybe I'm not his father legally but since when do I give a damn about legal stuff? He's coming home with me! We're going to have pizza, then I'm going to teach him how to best punish minions who fail at their task. AND NO ONE WILL STOP ME!"

"I'm gonna' vomit!"

"EWW!" Moriarty screeched like a little girl and dropped Sherlock on the ground.

The itty-bitty detective sprinted towards John, his only ally in the world right now.

"John! Let's get out of here!"

He had to move his legs twice as fast to run at the same speed as he could as an adult. Without further question, John fled with him.

Mycroft and Moriarty followed. Molly got out of her car and ran with them.

"Call for a taxi!" Sherlock yelled at John.

"Why me?"

"Because a three year old can't call for one!"

"Oh right," John waved his hand at the street. A taxi came in the nick of time and he and Sherlock got in.

The taxi drove off, leaving the three adults behind. Molly wrapped her arms around Moriarty.

"Oh Jimmy! Our son's run off!"

Mycroft, the exercise taking its toll, put his hands on his knees and sucked in deep breaths of sweet air. When he recovered, he straightened his stance.

"You're just as mad as he is," he told her, "Why would you go along with this 'adoption' plan?"

"Because he's soooo cute!" she squealed unintentionally in Moriarty's ear.

The villain groaned. It came to his attention that it might be better to share Sherlock with a potential mother. After all, it was usually the female parents who took care of all the icky stuff like vomit. He shuddered.

"You're right Molly. We need 'our' son back," he said with emphasis, "Let's get in your car and stop that crazy man from kidnapping him."

Molly stared at him for a second. John, a kidnapper? But instead of questioning Moriarty she decided to just roll with it.

"Okay honey! Let's go!" she unintentionally shouted in his ear again.

Moriarty tried not to swear as the woman darted off for her car and he followed. Mycroft stared dumbfounded at their retreating figures.

Yep. They were both insane. Time to protect his baby brother.

xxxxxx

When the two escapees returned home, Sherlock immediately began experimenting with his chemicals. Even though he sort of knew that Sherlock's mind still functioned as an adult, John was put off by the sight of a three year old handling something so dangerous.

"Sherlock. What the hell is going on? How in the world-?"

"Moriarty shot me with a de-aging gun, tried to adopt me, trapped me in a warehouse and forced me to see a stupid cartoon. I escaped, my brother was an asshole, and then that's when you appeared."

The way Sherlock said it, without looking at John and in such a monotone voice, made it seem like he was just analyzing data. John frowned.

"So what's your plan now?"

"Seeing as how it was a de-aging gun and prying it off from Moriarty might prove too difficult, trying to use it as a means to change me back to normal would probably be meaningless. What we need to do is create a potion that will turn me back to normal," Sherlock held up two vials and poured a green liquid into a red one, turning it grey and bubbly.

"A potion? You're making it sound like you're in a bloody Harry Potter class!"

Sherlock looked up at him. Even with the stool that he was using for height when experimenting, he was still nowhere near as tall as John. It was weird to have to look up to see him.

"Are you with me or against me? Because so far everyone's been against me."

John thought for a moment, looking unsure.

"Well. Okay fine. But be careful." he warned.

Sherlock smiled at that.

"Of course."

He was never more grateful that John was on his side. He stared down at the liquid, debating on whether or not to drink it.