Chapter Text
It had all started when they had investigated Baskerville. Sherlock and John were making their way to the lab when a voice rang out across the lot.
“Bilbo?”
Sherlock kept on walking even as he glanced to his right and saw a soldier staring at him and John and their escort. John however, had stopped walking.
“Thorin?”
Sherlock stopped when he heard John’s shocked voice and realized that he was no longer behind him. Sherlock looked at John, whose eyes were now fixed on the soldier making his way over to them.
“John,” questioned Sherlock, wondering why John was responding to a soldier who was clearly not speaking to them.
However, John ignored him as he went to intercept the soldier.
“Bilbo,” yelled the soldier now with confidence and a radiant smile as he picked up speed.
John increased his speed as well and soon he and the soldier were embracing as if they were old friends. Sherlock watched, in shock, for a moment before he got his wits back and approached the pair.
“John, we have a job to do,” stated Sherlock, completely ignoring the man that John was hugging.
The soldier most likely had served with John at some point and then been transfered here.
“One moment Sherlock. Thorin how are you,” asked John with a grin as he pulled back and eyed his old friend.
“Better for seeing you again. It has been a long time my friend,” said Thorin with a grin before he hugged John again.
“Too long. What are you doing here at Baskerville,” asked John with a laugh as Thorin released him again.
“I requested a transfer to be closer to the boys. What are you doing here,” asked Thorin with a curious tilt of his head.
“Got sent home after I was shot,” revealed John.
“What,” asked Thorin dumbfounded and more then a little shaken.
Sherlock watched as Thorin’s gaze moved over John’s body in a frenzy. It was as if the man was trying to see John’s injury through his clothes. Sherlock held back his scoff at the gesture. Clearly the man wasn’t as close to John if he didn’t even know John had been shot.
“How did I not know you had been shot? We are listed as each others next of kin,” said Thorin.
The hurt was evident in his voice and on his face at the thought that John had chosen someone else as his closest friend.
“Did you change your forms,” asked Thorin gruffly, trying not to let his disappointment show.
“Of course not. You are still my emergency contact. And if they could not reach you they would call one of the boys,” quickly replied John.
“Then why is this the first I am hearing about you being shot,” said Thorin, now with more then a hint of anger in his voice.
“I told them not to call you,” admitted John sheepishly.
The look Thorin gave him had John quickly clarifying.
“It was after we had been reassigned to different regiments and we had just had that fight,” said John quietly enough that Sherlock had to strain to hear him.
“I apologized for that. I was being selfish and possessive and I apologized and you accepted,” insisted Thorin.
“Yes, yes and I still accept your apology. Its just I knew that you would drop everything and come running if you heard I got shot,” said John with an exasperated smile for his friend.
Sherlock felt a twist in his gut when he saw that smile. That was the smile that John normally gave him, and only him. It made Sherlock finally step forward and make his presence known.
“John, if we are going to ignore our case how about you introduce me to your friend,” said Sherlock, his suggestion more of an order.
“Right right sorry. Sherlock this is Thorin Durin. Thorin this is Sherlock Holmes,” said John as he gestured to each man in turn.
As Sherlock and Thorin shook hands it was clear that both alpha males were sizing each other up. Thorin had about two inches on Sherlock and was wider in the shoulders. Sherlock noted that Thorin’s eyes were icy blue and that his hair was pitch black. It was also longer then was consider acceptable by military standards and was pulled into a ponytail by an elastic, clearly a concession made by Thorin as he didn’t seem the type to tie back his hair. Thorin also sported a beard, but it was neatly trimmed. Judging by his uniform and the reaction of their escort, Thorin was a major if Sherlock’s memory of ranks and uniform was correct.
Thorin noted that the man before him held himself properly and stiffly, however he had never served. His hair curled over his forehead and neck, something that the military would have put an end to. Thorin was permitted to leave his hair longer thanks to his rank and his concession of tying it back while on duty. Sherlock also had very blue eyes that seemed to be analyzing everything there was to know about Thorin. Thorin quickly withdrew his hand and broke eye contact, not at all comfortable with someone trying to read him. Sherlock kept in his noise of frustration. Thorin was hard to read and it was near impossible to deduce how him and John knew each other.
“Pleasure to meet you. Now John we must get a move on. We don’t have much time until they discover we aren’t who we say we are,” whispered Sherlock.
John nodded his head in understanding, but Sherlock saw the sadness in his eyes as he prepared to say goodbye to his friend.
“We have a case to get back to,” said John sadly to Thorin.
“A case? What is it you do now Bilbo,” asked Thorin with a curious look.
Sherlock wondered why Thorin had just called John, Bilbo, but before he could question it the conversation continued on without him.
“I assist Sherlock here. He is a consulting detective,” said John somewhat proud of his new lot in life.
“An assistant to a consulting detective. Thats a change from the homebody I remember growing up,” teased Thorin with a smirk.
“That changed the day I met you. I was respectable once and then you and your friends barged into my life and turned it upside down,” complained John who had the biggest smile on his face.
“And you love us for it. Now I must get back to my duty and you must get back to your case. We shall have to get together soon,” said Thorin, deeper meaning in his icy gaze.
“Yes we must,” said John sincerely.
“Perhaps the next time I am on leave I shall pay you a visit. And perchance the boys may come along,” said Thorin with a grin as he back away.
“Only your nephews. I don’t think I could handle the whole gang in the flat. At least not without a month’s notice to prepare,” replied John.
“Just the four of us then. Send me your address and we’ll arrange something,” said Thorin in parting as he turned around and began ordering soldiers about.
“Sure,” whispered John in reply as he started walking again.
Sherlock and the escort had no choice, but to follow him.
“Why did he call you, what was it, Bilbo,” asked Sherlock with a grimace on his face, as if the name felt funny on his tongue.
“Its my middle name. I was born John Bilbo Baggins. Then mum remarried and I became John Bilbo Watson. Most everyone called me John except my closest friends,” reminisced John.
“Am I not one of your closest friends,” asked Sherlock, offended and a good deal hurt.
“Of course you are. I stopped introducing my self by Bilbo though after I went to St. Bart’s. Only those I grew up with still call me Bilbo,” explained John.
“I prefer John,” stated Sherlock as if his word was law.
“Of course you do,” muttered John.
“Besides what kind of name is Bilbo anyway? Or Thorin for that matter,” said Sherlock with a scoff.
“They’re family names. Passed on to us,” stated John not tolerating Thorin’s or his name being criticized, even if it was only Sherlock being Sherlock.
Sherlock didn’t bring up the name thing again.
Over the next few days John and Sherlock ran into Thorin numerous times and when they went into the forest to confront, what they though was a no longer existent hound and Dr. Frankland, Thorin accompanied them along with Lestrade. Sherlock hated to admit it, but he had actually appreciated Thorin’s presence when the hound did in fact turn up. What Sherlock had not appreciated though, was how Thorin had stood in front of John, acting as a shield, even as both fired on the animal.
Sherlock didn’t even try to delude himself into thinking that he was feeling any emotion other then jealousy. John was his one and only friend and he did not like sharing him with the likes of Thorin Durin. A man who had known John, or Bilbo as Thorin called him, since they were youngsters and didn’t that just grate on Sherlock’s nerves. What also grated on Sherlock’s nerves was the near constant mentions of the boys and allusions to a fight between John and Thorin that had apparently, at one time, caused a rift between the two. Sherlock wished he knew what the fight had been about so that he could reignite the fighting and separate John and Thorin again. However, John refused to talk about it and in no way was Sherlock going to ask Thorin. When the hound of Baskerville case was over and they had said goodbye to Thorin, a tearful goodbye on John and Thorin’s parts, Thorin had promised to visit soon. That was four months ago and Sherlock had almost forgotten about the man who called John by a name that was not who he was and who looked at John with a shuttered affection. Of course that was until the doorbell rang one day, when they hadn’t a case to distract them. Mrs. Hudson had answered the door and based on the titters coming from her, the visitor or visitors were gentlemen. Most likely one of her visitors, thought Sherlock dismissively as he went back to analyzing the tongue in the petri dish. However, he was soon paying quite apt attention when Mrs. Hudson walked through their door, trailed by three men.
Sherlock instantly recognized Thorin Durin despite him not being in uniform. The other two men however, were unfamiliar to him. Clearly they weren’t strangers to John though as they threw themselves at him, tackling him to the floor. Sherlock moved to intervene and stop the attack on his friend when he heard the laughter coming from the pile of bodies on the floor. He recognized John’s laugh and then categorized the laughs of the two men on top of him. The men were definitely younger then John, himself, and Thorin. One had blonde hair that was pulled back into a short ponytail, like Thorin’s, while the other had shoulder length dark hair that was loosely clipped back from his face. Both had faint beards that were neatly trimmed, just like Thorin’s and when Sherlock managed to get a view of both men’s faces there was no doubt in his mind that Thorin and these two men were all related to each other. That struck a memory in Sherlock’s brain and he recalled John mentioning Thorin’s nephews. These must be them, thought Sherlock as he kept himself from growling. The men were still on top of John.
“Alright boys thats enough,” said Thorin with authority and more then a hint of affection.
The boys happily climbed off of John and helped him up. They then pulled him into a hug.
“Uncle Bilbo,” said the boys in unison.
“We’ve missed you,” started the blonde boy.
“Uncle,” finished the dark haired boy.
“I’ve missed you both as well,” said John with a smile as he pulled back and looked over both boys.
“My how you’ve grown,” exclaimed John looking at both boys.
Sherlock took note of the heights and saw that the blonde was only about an inch taller then John. However, the dark haired boy was Sherlock’s height, putting him five inches taller then John.
“You’ve changed too Uncle Bilbo,” said the blonde.
“Yeah. You’ve changed your hair,” complained the brunette.
“I liked the curls,” stated the blonde.
“Same here,” agreed the brunette.
Sherlock and John’s heads bobbed back and forth to keep track of who was talking.
“Fili, Kili stop talking circles around him,” said Thorin as he chuckled at his nephews.
At that moment Sherlock cleared his throat and four sets of eyes turned to look at him. John’s were the only ones not surprised to see him there.
“Ah Mr. Holmes. We did not mean to intrude upon your visit,” said Thorin, even though Sherlock could tell that Thorin wasn’t truly sorry.
“You are not intruding upon a visit. I live here,” stated Sherlock as if it was common knowledge that him and John lived together.
“I was led to believe that this was John’s flat,” said Thorin only appearing to be slightly confused, while in truth he was very confused and a bit unsettled.
“It is. And its mine. We share the flat,” said Sherlock with a smile just to annoy Thorin.
“You share a flat,” demanded Thorin.
“Uncle Bilbo are you with this guy,” asked the brunette with a slight look of disgust that offended Sherlock.
“He can’t be Kili. This guy isn’t his type, right Uncle,” asked the blonde, who Sherlock deduced must be Fili.
“I mean look at him. He’s not that tough looking,” said Kili.
“Kind of scrawny,” added Fili.
“Not as tall as Uncle.”
“Nor as large.”
“Kilian, Filip that is enough,” chastised John, glaring at both boys.
They had the decently to look slightly abashed if not apologetic.
“We do...”
“apologize,”
“Apology accepted,” said Sherlock not at all meaning it.
These boys had come into his home and begun insulting him and comparing him to Thorin. And clearly, according to them, he was severely lacking in the attributes that John apparently found attractive. This was not a good day for Sherlock.
"Sherlock this is Filip and Kilian Durin, or Fili and Kili for short. Boys this is my friend and collegue Sherlock Holmes," introduced John.
Both boys got up and approached Sherlock. Sherlock gave them a suspicious look and almost backed away before two hands were extended toward him. He shook hands with them before taking a step back. The boys eyed him a moment longer before abruptly turning around and bouncing over to John.
"We're hungry Uncle Bilbo," whined Kili.
“You’re always hungry,” said John with an affectionate grin.
Fili and Kili stared at him a moment longer before John let out a sigh.
“Go pillage the pantry, but there better not be any food thrown,” shouted John after the two disappearing youths.
Those seemed to be the magic words as the brothers beamed and bolted for the kitchen.
“Don’t touch any of my equipment,” shouted Sherlock with a disgruntled tone at his house being invaded by the two exuberant youths and their uncle.
“Don’t sit in my chair,” grunted Sherlock before Thorin could sit down.
Thorin stopped mid sit and moved to sit on the arm of John’s chair, his thigh pressing into John’s arm. Thorin actually couldn’t find it in him to complain about the sitting arrangements while Sherlock held in a growl and mentally kicked himself. Sherlock wished he could complain on John’s behalf, however, John had his arm resting on Thorin’s thigh and they were chatting amicably. Sherlock looked at John who was smiling up at Thorin and then he looked at Thorin who was smirking smugly at him. Sherlock glowered which just made Thorin grin broader.
The three adults could hear cabinets being opened and closed in the kitchen and the murmured chatter of the boys. John watched Sherlock’s perturbed expression as the boys raided their food stuffs. Sherlock looked up as the boys moved to the fridge and he vaguely thought that he should give them a warning, but it was too late and things quickly went downhill when the fridge was opened. Fili and Kili both yelped and slammed the door closed, causing John and Thorin to get up and look at them, startled. The boys came back into the living room and flanked John.
“Stay away from our Uncle you creep,” yelled Kili.
“If you so much as lay a hand on him I’ll remove it,” threatened Fili going for his pocket knife.
None of the adults had a clue as to what was going on, but that didn’t stop Thorin from shifting in front of John, partially blocking him from Sherlock’s gaze.
“What is going on,” demanded John, not at all liking his surrogate family turning on his best friend.
“He is evil,” said Kili as he continued to glare at Sherlock.
“Kili,” chastised John.
“It is true Uncle. There is a head in the fridge. And its tongue is on the table,” growled Fili, holding his pocket knife in front of him as if it were a full sized sword.
“What,” demanded Thorin as he watched Sherlock and backed up into the kitchen, never once removing his eyes from the man.
A moment later he came back into the lounge and went to grab John.
“Come along we are leaving,” said Thorin, no question in his words.
“I am not leaving this is my home,” replied John resisting the tugs on his arms.
“I am conducting an experiment. I would never harm John,” inserted Sherlock, finally as he approached the group.
“Experiments,” demanded Thorin disgusted.
“Yes, experiments. I would not expect you to understand them,” said Sherlock snidely.
“Are you calling me unintelligent,” demanded Thorin, greatly offended.
“Compared to me you have little more then the brain capacity of a dwarf,” said Sherlock, pleased with his insult.
“Necromancer,” shouted Thorin.
“Emotional retard!”
“Dragon!”
“Stop,” shouted John.
He had no idea how the argument had escalated so quickly to the point of name calling. And not even particularly good name calling. Well, he supposed that Sherlock did sort of bring dead things to life with his experiments and he was a bit possessive and moody like a dragon at times. Of course Thorin was an emotional retard and sometimes he acted like a dwarf, but that didn’t explain how both men had picked that up about each other. And in such a short amount of time. It was almost as if they were simply calling each other scarily accurate names from a book.
“Enough,” said John with am exhausted sigh, even though everyone had stopped talking when he had shouted.
“Sherlock I thought we talked about putting body parts in the fridge,” said John with an exasperated look.
“I placed a post it on the fridge as you told me to do when I have an experiment in there. It is not my fault that your friends do not know that that is the indicator,” said Sherlock, a bit petulantly.
“Oh yes because most people put post it notes on their fridges to warn others that there are body parts in there,” said Thorin sarcastically.
“Thorin you are not helping,” said John through gritted teeth.
“I am not trying to Bilbo. This man is certifiably insane. Now can we please go. I have a flat here in London that you are most welcome at.”
“Yes and we live there too. We can all live together like a big happy family,” said Kili with a look of childish pleasure at the possibility of his childhood dream coming true.
“Please say you’ll come,” begged Fili.
Sherlock looked between the four of them and wondered how they had gone from fighting about a head in the fridge to talking about John moving in with them. Sherlock did not like this turn of events. He did not like them at all.
“He can’t move. We have a contract with Mrs. Hudson. If he were to leave and break that contract both her and myself could take legal actions against him,” said Sherlock proud of his reason for John having to stay.
However, the feeling of pride quickly went away when he looked at everyone’s faces. Thorin looked murderous at the idea of John continuing to share a flat with Sherlock and Sherlock’s implied threat. The boys looked angry and protective at the thought that Sherlock would try to hurt John, even if just by legal means. And John, well John was the hardest to look at. He looked quite upset at the idea that Sherlock would bring legal actions against him just for being with his family. Sherlock looked away, a stubborn mask of indifference slipping over his face.
“Could we have a moment please,” asked John as he looked at Thorin and the boys.
All three really wanted to say no, but the look on John’s face had them agreeing.
“Fine, but we are right downstairs and when you are done we are going to lunch,” stated Thorin, never once asking John, but John was used to that.
“Sure,” said John to appease them.
When everyone, but John and Sherlock, had filed out of the flat, John turned to look at him.
“You would do that,” asked John quietly as he looked at his best friend.
Sherlock wanted to be his stoic and uncaring self and say yes, but that wasn’t the type of person he had become being friends with John. He cared about people now. Well, select few people, but those he did care about he was protective of. He also had come to know that being honest with John was truly the best policy or else he would end up with a disappointed and sulky best friend and Sherlock hated doing that to John.
“Of course I wouldn’t,” revealed Sherlock after his silence.
“Then why did you say it?”
“I don’t want you to move out. I am a very difficult man to live with and it took forever to find a flat mate to put up with me. And we work quite well together. Besides how many flat mates let each other put body parts in the fridge?”
That startled a chuckle out of John which made Sherlock chuckle which then started them both off laughing over the bizarreness of their conversation which was so them. At that moment the door to the flat opened and Lestrade came in. John and Sherlock both looked at him and for no reason whatsoever they began laughing again.
“Well, I see you two are acting normally,” said Lestrade with a exasperated sigh.
“What brings you by Greg,” asked John as he and Sherlock calmed down.
“Do we have a case,” asked Sherlock eager to get John away from his friends/family and their lunch plans.
“Mrs. Hudson called when she heard fighting between you and your uhh visitors,” said Lestrade as he looked at the door and realized that the three men he had seen downstairs had followed him up the stairs and were staring at him. Finally the two youngest ones turned their eyes to John, but the older of the group continued his unyielding stare and Lestrade couldn’t quite keep in his shutter. He could tell that this man could be very dangerous if the situation provoked him.
“Uncle Bilbo are you ready to go,” asked the brunette boy as he bounced over to John.
“Uncle Bilbo,” questioned Lestrade confused.
“Greg please meet my family. This is Thorin, Filip, and Kilian Durin. Thorin, Fili, Kili this is Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade,” introduced John.
“Pleasure to meet you. Why did he call you Bilbo?”
“Because thats his name. Well, his middle name,” said the blonde Fili as he too moved over to John’s side.
“Ah okay. Well, as long as everything is alright then I suppose I can go,” said Lestrade moving to leave.
“Wait, you don’t have a case or anything,” asked Sherlock a bit desperately.
“Not an active one. I have a few cold ones, but...”
“Perfect I’ll work on those,” said Sherlock as he moved to get his scarf and coat.
“Okay,” said Lestrade confused, but used to the feeling when it came to Sherlock and his antics.
“You coming John,” asked Sherlock coming to stand by the door.
Thorin moved out of Sherlock’s way and stood next to John. His hand grabbed John’s and squeezed lightly. John felt the tug on his hand and gave an answering squeeze.
"I promised lunch. Text me if we get a case," said John as he was guided out the door.
John decided to take his family to the restaurant of Sherlock's friend. When he saw John he gave him a hug and led them to the best table in the place. Fili and Kili nearly had kittens when they were told their food was on the house. John laughed and told the boys to at least attempt to control themselves.
Everything was very high spirited from there. They all talked of what had happened over the few years that they had been separated. Fili and Kili had started university and Thorin had requested a transfer to Baskerville when, his sister Dis, the boys' mother, died. John was upset by the news. Him and Dis had always gotten on well and had often enjoyed making fun of Thorin together. John talked about how he got shot and was sent home. That sent Fili and Kili into protective mode and flanked John as they left the restaurant. That made Thorin laugh before he reached back for John's hand and pulled him from the boys' grasp.
Fili and Kili decided to take a taxi back to their flat, promising to visit their Uncle Bilbo soon. Thorin hailed another taxi and he and John hopped in. After instructing the cabbie to drive around a bit, Thorin turned to face John.
"Sorry I didn't tell you about Dis. I tried to find you via the army, but they were no help," said Thorin sadly as he absentmindedly played with John's hand, which he still held.
"I am sorry I wasn't able to be there for you and the boys," said John squeezing Thorin's hand.
"Look Bilbo I know we didn't end things on the best of terms. I mean I apologized and you accepted, but things weren't the same and then you got transferred and," Thorin would have continued, but John had covered his mouth with his hand.
John gave him an indulgent smile before removing his hand.
"What are you getting at Thorin," asked John patiently.
"I want to get back together," said Thorin in a rush before anything could stop him.
John gave a sad sigh before looking down for a moment. Thorin lifted John's chin and looked him in the eyes. If John didn't already know Thorin, the intensity of his gaze would have taken John's breath away. As it was John became a bit warm.
"Just give me a chance please. I promise I have changed."
"Thorin you were always so set in your ways," trailed off John.
"Except when I was truly wrong. I was wrong Bilbo. You were not an object and you have a right to your own life. I just want to be part of that life," pleaded Thorin.
"Pull off here onto Bakers Street," said John when he saw where they were.
Thorin's heart broke as he heard John give the instructions. John looked at Thorin and saw his stricken face. He grabbed Thorin's hand and turned to face him.
"I'm not saying no, but," continued John before Thorin could interrupt, " I do need to think about it."
Thorin didn't necessarily like that answer, but it was better then no.
"I understand. Take as long as you need love. Just know that I will still love you and still be your friend no matter what you decide," said Thorin as he caressed John's cheek.
John leaned into the touch for a moment before he exited the taxi.
"Wait," said Thorin before John could close the door.
He pulled a chain from around his neck and went to place it around John's neck. John knew the ring that hung on the chain and didn't move to stop Thorin.
"This is yours and always will be," said Thorin as he kissed John on the cheek and got back into the cab. John held the ring tightly as the cab drove off.