Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.

Note: I'm glad some people seem to like my idea, but just FYI a little review would be extremely appreciated. Also, I apologize for any mistake or weird sentence, but unfortunately English is not my first language.

Chapter 2

John Watson was sitting on the couch, face buried in his hands.

"There's another one." was all he kept murmuring.

Sherlock was staring at him from his armchair, his chin resting on the tips of his fingers, his hands clasped together in his usual meditating pose.

Sherrinford Holmes was staring at both of them, casually leaning against the doorframe, his lips curled in a smirk.

"John." Sherlock called. "John!"

John sighed, dreading to look up at his best friend.

"John, stop being boring."

John couldn't help a faint laugh hearing that.

"You two are just adorable." He heard Sherrinford say.

"Shut up." snapped his brother.

John sighed and looked up, fixing his deep blue eyes into Sherlock's greyish ones. "You have another brother."

"Honestly, I can't understand why you're making such a fuss over this, John" Sherlock, as usual, ignored what John had said. "I'm sure either me or Mycroft have mentioned him once or twice.."

"Never" John's voice rose a little, and he cleared his throat. "You've never talked about a third brother."

"What's the matter anyway? John, this is my eldest brother Sherrinford. Sherrinford, forget you ever saw or heard about John Watson."

Sherrinford burst out laughing and took a few steps towards the couch, offering his hand. "It is a pleasure to be officially introduced, Doctor Watson. It was about time." he flashed Sherlock with a disapproving look, shaking his head. "My little brother was never an example of good manners, I'm afraid."

John stared at that face, so similar to his friend's and yet lit up with a gleeful spark that was so unlike the other two Holmeses brothers. Well, at least of the two he knew.

"Are there other siblings you've forgotten to tell me about?" he aasked, frowning.

Sherlock groaned. "No. But really, John, I can't see why you have to be so upset."

John decided to let it go for now, until he had sometime to talk to Sherlock alone. His frown deepened as a voice inside his head told him that he was indeed overreacting, after all Sherlock's private life wasn't exactly any of his business anymore. Or ever.

Sherrinford went to fetch a glass from the small table next to John's armchair, which was filled with what could only have been whiskey. "I am deeply offended, kiddo, that you wouldn't even mention me to your boyfriend" he complained, and sat in John's armchair, crossing an ankle on his knee. He smiled brightly at the good doctor.

John had widened his eyes, had Sherrinford really just called Sherlock kiddo? Normally he would have found it funny, but for some reason he wanted to wipe that smirk off Sherrinford's face.

"John is married, Sherrinford. And no, not to me." Sherlock looked extremely annoyed. "Now, I do believe it's Mycroft's turn to be delighted with your presence, so get out." He pointed lazily at the door, pressing his lips in a tight line.

Sherrinford sighed. "Someone comes back to good ol' England after all these years and his brother doesn't even let him finish his first glass. Seriously, Sherlock, you embarrass me." He winked at John. "Pray tell, Doctor Watson, what brings you to my little brother's abode?" but John didn't have time to answer, because Sherrinford raised a hand to his forehead dramatically "Oh dear me, I'm no better than you, Sherl! How terribly rude of me, would you like something to drink, John?"

John just stared at him for a moment. First kiddo and now Sherl. He pressed his hand into a fist, and then shook his head. "I'm fine, thank you".

Sherrinford nodded and ranted some more on his brother's failure as a host, to which Sherlock replied by saying that he had never invited him in the first place.

In the meantime, John debated within himself why the fact that Sherlock had never told him about his other brother made him feel so betrayed. He stood up and assumed what Mary called his "Captain Watson pose": straight back and hands clasped behind him. The two Holmeses stopped talking and turned their heads to look at him, both equally surprised.

"Well, I'm sorry I interrupted your family reunion" John said, voice empty. He was trying so hard to remember why he'd come there in the first place, why he had felt so excited to see Sherlock, to tell him… oh yes, that Mary was going to a conference in Edinburgh and would be away for an entire week, and John was wondering if he could temporarily move back to Baker Street while he had the house re-painted. He looked from his friend to his brother, feeling like a fool.

"I.. I just wanted to check in on you, Sherlock, because Lestrade told me you haven't replied to any of his texts lately." He lied, biting his lower lip. "Glad to see you're all right. I'll see you around, take care." He bowed to Sherrinford. "Nice meeting you." and sprinted down the stairs.

Coward. He thought, opening the front door and walking into the pouring rain. He had panicked and ran away, and now he felt terribly embarrassed. John Watson was a soldier and a doctor, he had never in his life fled from danger, let alone a highly awkward first encounter with his best friend's eldest brother. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, deciding that he didn't want to think about what impression of him Sherrinford Holmes must have had, and even worse what Sherlock must have thought of his shameful behavior. The face of the mysterious third brother flashed in his mind, his features so similar to Sherlock's, and yet the ironic sparkle in his green eyes, the slightly tanned and wrinkled skin, and the ever present confident smirk couldn't make him look more different from the Holmesness he was used to know.

John had always trusted his guts, especially when faced with strangers that looked powerful and overconfident. If he had to be honest, Sherrinford gave him the creeps, and made him feel so insecure that he felt the need to get as far away from him as he could, in the shortest time possible. His guts told him not to trust that man at all, and yet he had left Sherlock alone with him without even thinking twice about it.

Well, it's his brother. He thought. A brother neither him nor Mycroft had ever bothered to mention though, and whose presence Sherlock clearly couldn't wait to get rid of.

He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and the woman who was running behind him to get to the Tube station almost knocked him over.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" she yelled at him before disappearing down the stairs.

But John didn't even hear her, he was debating whether he should go back to Baker Street or let Sherlock handle the situation by himself. John mentally cursed at himself for leaving his gun at home.

But then, why would he ever need a gun with Sherrinford Holmes?

Shivers ran down his back and his shoulders contracted painfully at the thought.

He turned abruptly and took a step, but then his cell phone beeped.

Are you okay? SH

John laughed at himself, because that was exactly what he should be asking Sherlock.

He stood under the rain, staring at the screen, and then typed back.

Of course.

Liar. SH

John bit his lip and thought about what he could say, but then he shook his head and put his phone back in his pocket, and went to get the Tube.

He was being stupid, of course Sherlock would be fine. Just because Sherrinford had seemed so weirdly enthusiastic about John, it didn't mean that he was a threat.

Plus, John had decided that he would go get his gun first, before going back and apologize for his rudeness.

Just to be sure.