Mycroft led his shrunken brother to his the car. He helped him up and looked back at John. John was frowning, obviously not very pleased with the turn of events. But Mycroft knew he was doing the right thing.
The car drove off with both Holmes brothers in the back seat. Mycroft noticed that Sherlock wasn't talking much.
"What do you want to eat?" he asked the toddler.
"I don't wanna' eat."
"How about chicken noodle soup? You like that."
Sherlock tried to look out the window but his head couldn't reach high enough.
"Hmm?" Mycroft secretly liked being called 'Croft' again.
"Why am I so small?"
Now the three-year-old had his attention on the elder Holmes, searching for an answer.
"What do you remember?" asked Mycroft.
Sherlock raised his hand to his mouth, thinking critically. He nearly slid out of his seat completely when the car made a turn. Mycroft would have to get him a safer car to ride in, or at the very least a seat.
"I was fighting the bad guy," Sherlock said in his high-pitched, super-cute voice, "And then he shot me. And then he was acting all weird."
"He wanted me to call him Daddy."
Mycroft laughed. He couldn't help it. He ruffled Sherlock's hair. The toddler was shocked at first, then he glared, trying to look scary. It was anything but. Mycroft laughed again.
"Stop making fun of me, Croft! I'm telling Mommy!"
"I'm not laughing at you. How's this? You take a nap after lunch and then I'll get you some ice cream."
Sherlock's eyes widened.
"Yes, Sherlock. Eat most of your lunch and take a nap and you can have any kind of ice cream you want."
Sherlock smiled bright enough to light up the whole town.
"Thanks Croft. Your nose is not so big after all."
When he was young, Sherlock would always say Mycroft's nose was big whenever he thought his older brother was being mean. Mycroft had not the slightest clue where he got the idea that having big noses and being mean were essentially the same thing.
Though Mycroft didn't voice it out loud, he liked that Sherlock was thinking like a toddler for now. It made protecting him easier.
Moriarty used his high tech spy glasses to peer through the mansion. He did have a de-aging gun, after all. So him having spy glasses wasn't that unbelievable. He and his minions were crouching underneath the bushes by the duck pond in Mycroft's yard.
The minions waited patiently for their boss to say something. One minion was playing with a baby duckling, before he got mauled by an angry parent. Another minion was eating the flowers because he recently failed a mission so Moriarty punished him by ordering him not to eat any food, only sticks and wild plants. Another minion was thinking up a new song that was sure to be a hit. He was just sure of it!
"Alright, here's the plan nameless minions. Once everyone's asleep, we'll take Sherlock and leave. Any questions?"
He looked at his men. The minions looked at a lost. One spoke up.
"So you want us to fall asleep then grab him? I don't know if I can do that."
"No, you idiot," Moriarty scolded, "Wait until everyone in that mansion is asleep."
"Wait until everyone in that mansion is asleep, does that include the kid?"
"Yes. We don't want him to scream and alert everyone."
The minion asking questions looked at the minion who had been thinking up a song and he pointed at him.
"Why would he scream? He works for you. He won't alert anyone."
"Okay, stay with me here," Moriarty was seriously thinking that he needed better help, "We wait until people in the mansion are asleep, Sherlock included. Then we grab Sherlock while Sherlock is asleep so that Sherlock won't scream and alert the people in the mansion. Are we clear?"
There was a moment's pause before the minions nodded that they understood. Moriarty looked back at the house. Sherlock was going to be his son, legally or not. He always wanted an heir that was just as smart as he was. The de-aging gun proved to be even more of a blessing than he thought it would be.
Mycroft cradled the sleeping boy in his arms and gently laid him on the car-shaped bed he had bought for him. Sherlock stirred once but soon fell back into a comfortable slumber.
Was it weird that Mycroft liked babying his brother again? Maybe he should see a therapist. He was almost inclined to think that Sherlock shrinking was a good thing. It brought them closer together than they have been for a long time.
Yep, he needed to see a therapist. But he'll do that later. For now, he would just let Sherlock take his nap. They both had a long day.
He smiled at the innocent sight of his brother. If they couldn't find a cure, then Mycroft wouldn't mind raising him. Sherlock would get a second childhood too, so there was nothing selfish about wishing it would stay like this.