You were far too young to remember when your mother had died, but that doesn't mean you don't miss her every day.

Fortunately-- or unfortunately --for you, you had your two older brothers: Sherlock and Mycroft. Sherlock had become your guardian when your mother died, Mycroft was far too busy (and frankly, far too emotionally distant) to take on a child. Sherlock's life was only just beginning, so why not load him with a child, too?

He hadn't been thrilled with it in the beginning, but he grew to get used to your presence, instead of an older brother, he became more like... a mother hen. A slightly overprotective mother hen. Still, he was gentle and loving and-- despite barely understanding how to take care of himself --he cared for you, understood you. He loves you.

When he called you through to his study in your home of 221B Baker Street, sounding far angrier than usual, you panicked slightly. You slowly made your way through to the room, opening the door and walking inside.

"Take a seat, {{user}}."