multifandom one-shots

oh god, not another pt. 2 (sherlock)

tw: deadnaming and misgendering
word count: 1233
pairing: sherlock x trans!male reader (the reader is underage, this is platonic)
spoilers: the sign of three (season 3, episode 2)
a/n: for the non english peeps, DfE is england's version of CPS (child protective services)

Once I was settled down in their living room with a cup of tea in my hands, Sherlock asked me, "Where'd you learn how to do that?"

"I don't know, I've always been able to do it, I've gotten better with age though."

"He's better than you, Sherlock," John quipped with a smirk.

Sherlock scoffed, "No he's not."

"He knew I was shot in the shoulder, you didn't- how did you know, by the way?" he asked, turning to me.

"Saying you got injured was a guess to gauge your reaction, you glanced down at your left shoulder, therefore telling me you got shot in the left shoulder," I said, sipping my tea.

" But how'd you know it was a bullet? Could've been shrapnel."

"Shrapnel means an explosive was present, there's rarely ever one piece of shrapnel which means you would have more scarring on your neck and head, which you don't."

Sherlock stood abruptly, "Alright, I've been patient for long enough, my turn. You're young, no older than 16, much too young to have moved out on your own, which means you either ran away or were kicked out. You're good at pick-pocketing, well, not good enough to trick me, but plenty good enough to sustain yourself, that means you've been on the streets for a while. You said you're new around here, which means you move around often, smart if you're a thief and DfE is after you. Now, why did you leave home? Shallow breathing, you still haven't completely caught your breath from our little chase. That says respiratory issues, but you're not wheezing or coughing. Obviously wearing a binder, that and a lack of an Adam's apple tells me you're biologically female but, you have a male name and haven't corrected us when we used male pronouns, that says trans. That's why your parents kicked you out."

The flat was silent for a moment, "I see why people don't like you," I said, crossing my arms over my chest self-consciously.

John chuckled and joked, "I like this one, can we keep him?"

"My thoughts precisely, John."

"Wait really?!" Both John and I exclaimed at the same time.

"Yes really, my dear brother Mycroft probably has the DfE on their way to the flat already, so we have 10 minutes at the most before they get here."

"I'm not going to a bloody children's home," I mumbled, already putting my coat on.

"Sherlock, we can't just keep a child because you like having him around."

"I won't be 'keeping' him, I'll be training him."

I looked up in surprise, "Training?"

"Yes, I don't repeat myself so keep up," Sherlock said, walking back over to his chair and throwing himself into it, "You have three choices, one is leave now and considering your skill set, the DfE will most certainly not catch you, two is staying here and letting the DfE collect you, and third is agreeing to stay with John and I, and I will reason with my brother and the the DfE."

"How do I know you're not gonna hand me over to the DfE as soon as they get here?" I asked.

Sherlock sighs, "Because you have a gift, a dangerous one at that, and it's not going to get any use out on the streets."

"Keeps me alive," I mumbled.

"Yes, but it can do more than that," he said, throwing his arms out in a childish manner.

"Wait a moment, don't I get a say in this? It's my flat too," John asked, sounding quite flustered.

Search for weak points

"I can babysit," I said, looking towards John optimistically.

John's gaze softened a little and Sherlock smirked and gave me a look that clearly said 'I know what you're doing.'

Multiple car doors shut outside and Sherlock and I looked towards the window.

"Mycroft's here." Sherlock stated plainly and sat up properly in his chair.

"Are you sure you can talk me out of this?" I asked skeptically.

The detective rolled his eyes and scoffed, "Yes, I'm sure."

"Well if I'm staying here I might as well introduce myself, I already know you two, but I'm Dallas Hayes."

At that moment, Mycroft let himself into the flat and closed the door behind him.

"I will admit, dear brother of mine, this is a slightly unexpected first," the older Holmes brother said, and motioned towards me slightly with his umbrella before setting it down by the door.

"Oh, nothing I do could surprise you anymore," Sherlock spat.

Mycroft frowned at him and walked over to the mantle and turned to face John, "Nice to see you, John."

"Yeah, nice to see you too," he replied.

Sherlock rolled his eyes as Mycroft took his sweet time turning to face me.

"Abigail Hayes,"

I cringed at the use of my deadname and before Mycroft could say another word, Sherlock interrupted him, "He goes by Dallas."

The older Holmes scoffed and continued on, "Dallas Hayes, you are now under the custody and protection of the Department for Education-"

"Mmmm no he's not," Sherlock interrupted again.

"Then who's custody is she under, hm?"

"He, is under my custody."

"You're kidding."

"I never am."
"You can't even take care of yourself, how are you gonna take care of a child?!"

John cleared his throat, "He does take care of a child already, and he's quite good at it too," he said, pointing to a photo of John, Sherlock, and a little girl on the mantle.

'Why on Earth would you suddenly decide you want a child?'

"He's like us, Mycroft," Sherlock hissed.

"Prove it," Mycroft said, plain and simple.

"He was able to tell I had been deployed in the military, that I got shot in the shoulder, what hand I wrote with and that I had a small child. He could also tell half of my morning routine," John stated, "And he read Sherlock like an open book."

"Go on then, 'deduce' me," Mycroft said.

"Oh, well, um, you've been trying to lose weight lately, successfully, I might add, you and Sherlock are no more than 10 years apart and no less than five, you're right handed, I can't tell exactly what you do for work, but if I had to guess I'd say you're very high up in the British Government, there's a weapon of some kind, most likely a sabre hidden in your umbrella and the handle is a very small handgun, also you've never been in a serious relationship, at least not recently," I listed off my deductions quietly.

The flat was heavy with awkward silence for a moment before Mycroft spoke up, "How do we know s- he's not like Eurus?"

"Well considering he hasn't attempted to murder any of us yet, I'd say the chances of him being like Eurus are low," John said.

The older Holmes hasn't taken his eyes off me since I spoke out, "If he passes a full, thorough psych evaluation, I'll allow you to foster him, as long as you check in with me once a week."

"Deal," Sherlock said quickly, "Now, I believe you have authorities to deal with."

Sherlock ushered his older brother out the door and shut it behind him quickly.

"I'll be back by this afternoon," Mycroft yelled through the door, before the sound of his footsteps faded down the stairs and the front door banged shut.