A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! So a lot of you requested a part 2 to I Need A Favor so here it is!!! I had planned it to be short and sweet...but I got carried away.....Hope you like it!!! Enjoy<3

Sherlock's entire being was on fire from John's kiss, even though their snogging session had ended nearly twenty minutes ago. John had backed Sherlock against the bed, sending both of them tumbling to the sheets. The fall had hurt John's broken wrist, reminding Sherlock that he had to get a proper cast for the injured limb.

They were walking down the street, John clinging to Sherlock's arm. The older boy kept glancing around, wincing whenever a car sped by. Sherlock could tell the boy was scared of his father finding them, so he made sure to walk through the back alleys he often took to avoid the bullies from his school.

They finally reached the massive private school, Sherlock swiping his student ID and leading John into the empty halls.

"Holy Shit man, you go to school here?"

"Yeah, it's not the best, but they have the greatest Advanced Chemistry class outside of Saint Bart's College." Sherlock shrugged, swiping his ID once more to gain access to the art wing.

"Jesus mate, you're a fucking geek, aren't you?" Sherlock hesitated, concerned where John's thoughts were headed. Sherlock gasped as he felt John grip his elbow and spin him around, pulling him close and smirking up at him. "You never told me there was a brain hidden under all those curls."

"I don't exactly hide it John. My room is full of text books and medical journals, and less than an hour ago I reset your broken wrist and stitched your side together." John smiled reaching up and tousling Sherlock's hair.

"You're cute." Sherlock blushed, stuttering uncertainly. "Come on Genius, let's do some craft-type-stuff."

"We are building you a cast John, not making Christmas cards." John laughed and pressed onto his toes, kissing Sherlock lightly. "And you're distracting me." John giggled and stepped back, letting Sherlock lead him over to one of the tables.

It took almost three hours for Sherlock to finish the cast. The whole time, John talked about his school, his family, and some of his friends. It turned out that both John and Sherlock knew Mike Stamford. Mike was taking the Advanced Chemistry class at Sherlock's school, and was on the same rugby team as John.

"So, tell me your story. So far, all I know about you is that you're a posh genius with an older brother and a family that forgets you." John was sitting on one of the desks, playing with the cast that now adorned his broken wrist. It was almost fully dried, and Sherlock was just cleaning up his station. The younger boy hesitated, unsure what to say.

"I'm not really that interesting John."

"I beg to differ."

"Fine. I'm fifteen-"

"Wait, what?"

"Yes John, I'm almost three years younger than you. I am three years ahead of most students my age. No one likes me, not that I blame them for that-"

"Stop that." John growled, grabbing Sherlock's elbow and dragging him to stand between his knees. "Why would you say that?"

"Because John, I'm a fifteen year old with an IQ that is higher than most teachers here, I have a drug problem, I'm abrasive, I can tell every dirty little secret about someone within three minutes of meeting them-" Sherlock's words faded to a surprised sound as John's lips crashed inelegantly against his, one of the shorter boy's hands was around the back of his neck, while the other gripped his hip tightly. Sherlock's hands however, scrabbled wildly against John's sides. He had no clue how to handle this much physical contact.

"They're wrong." John mumbled against his lips, breathing heavily and shaking his head slightly. "You're wrong." He moved the hand that had been on the back of Sherlock's neck to his cheek, still pressing soft kisses to his lips.

"I'm really not John." John kissed him again, licking gently into his mouth and sucking on his bottom lip. Sherlock whimpered, scrabbling for purchase once more against John's sides.

"Yes, you are. You saved my life, patched me up, and convinced me not to jump all while being three years younger than me and high off your fucking skull." He leaned back, taking Sherlock's face in both his hands and grinning brightly. "Babe, you're fucking brilliant!" Sherlock tried to fight the laugh that rose in his chest, but failed, dropping his head against John's shoulder and giggling. "Come on Genius, let's go get some sleep. I'm knackered." Sherlock nodded, quickly packing up the rest of the art supplies and leading John out of the building.

The next day, both boys had school, so Sherlock walked with John to his Public school before heading off to his own school.

Hey babe – JW

Hey – SH

Not one for pet names are you – JW

Sorry – SH

Pumpkin? – SH

Oh God – JW

We'll work on it – JW

I have Rugby practice after school – JW

I should be done by about 7 – JW

Would you like me to come meet you? – SH

Nah, I'll be with the boys, I should be fine – JW

Alright. Let me know if that changes – SH

Yes mom – JW

...I'm not sure how I feel about being your mother... - SH

It's a joke babe – JW

G2G – SH

Sherlock was in his room, running an experiment on mold cultures, when he was pulled from his thoughts by a frantic pounding at the front door. He hurried to answer. It was a boy about John's age, his face was flushed and he was panting. His eyes were filled with fear and he was trembling with adrenaline.

"Hey, you Sherlock Holmes?"

"Yes. Who are you?"

"Names Greg. John told me to come, he's in trouble." Sherlock's chest tightened, he grabbed his coat and pulled on his shoes before racing out the door.

"What happened?"

"We were walking back here, when his dad pulled up and started screaming at him. John fought back, but his dad grabbed him and shoved him in the car. John texted me your address and told me to get you."

"Where do they live?"

"By the abandoned factory."

"Show me the factory." They ran in silence for a while, the dark silhouette of the abandoned factory looming closer with every step.

They approached the building, slowing to a stop just outside the door.

"Gavin-"

"It's Greg."

"Priorities George. Do you happen to know if John's mother is home?"

"Yeah, she works nights. God, what about Harry?"

"Who's Harry?"

"John's sister."

"Social Services took her a couple of nights ago. That's why his father is so mad. Go check on Mrs. Watson. Get her out of the house and call the police. Tell them that we will need an ambulance and officers in the abandoned factory as soon as possible."

"Sherlock, be careful. He has a gun." Sherlock nodded, watching as Geoff ran towards a run-down blue house. He turned back to the factory and gripped the door handle. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, pulling out his phone and shooting a text to John.

John, I'm at the factory – SH

I'm coming for you – SH

Sherlock crept through the dark building, listening for anything that would give away John's position. He was certain John's father would take John here. It was private and it would take weeks for anyone to find John's body.

John, if you can, make noise. It will help me find you – SH

He stopped moving and listened. The building was silent for a minute, there was no guarantee John could even read his texts.

A pained scream split through the air.

Sherlock ran towards the sound, bending down and grabbing a steel pipe he saw on the ground. He came to what used to be the break room, and had to physically stop himself from running in at what he saw.

John was in the middle of the room, his hands tied to a bar in the ceiling. His face was swollen and bleeding, and his leg was resting at a slightly off angle. Broken at the knee. John's father was sitting in a chair only a few feet away from John, a half empty bottle of booze in his hand.

Sherlock crept closer, making sure to align himself with John's line of sight.

Hey Gorgeous – SH

John's father picked up a cell phone off the table.

"Looks like your girlfriend is here." John's eyes sprung up, catching Sherlock's. He shook his head and fought with his restraints.

"Stop this, please. Just let us go. I won't tell anyone, you know I won't-"

"Shut up boy!" John's Dad reached his leg out and kicked John's already broken knee, causing the boy to cry out in pain. Sherlock ground his teeth and pulled out his phone.

The police are on their way. If you leave now, I won't aid in your arrest – SH

Come out Little Girl, or John dies – W

You keep assuming I am female – SH

After last night, John can confirm that both of us are, in fact, male – SH

Last chance – SH

John's dad stood, pulling out a large knife and walking up to John. He slashed the knife across John's chest, making the boy scream in agony. Sherlock leapt out of his hiding place, swinging the pipe and gasping as he felt the crush of bone beneath the steel.

"Sherlock!" John gasped as his father hit the ground. Sherlock had only hit his side, so at worst he had a few broken ribs. Sherlock kicked the knife away, stepping around the writhing man to help John with his bindings.

He gasped as a hand grabbed and pulled roughly at his ankle, sending him sprawling. The pipe bounced away from him as he connected roughly with the concrete. He was dragged back along the ground and flipped over, his arms pinned to his side under Mr. Watson's knees.

"This is the pouf you're shagging?" The man sounded furious, and the adrenaline was doing weird thing's to Sherlock's confidence.

"Nice to meet you, I'm doing your son." Pain flowered in his jaw and blood filled his mouth as he was punched violently. "What's wrong? Not a fan of the thought of me sucking your son's-"

"Sherlock! Making things worse."

"How can I possibly make things worse John?" Mr. Watson reached into his jacket and pulled out his gun, pressing it against Sherlock's cheek. "Ah, that's how."

"Shut the fuck up Pouf."

"He's good with the words John." The gun was cocked and Sherlock swallowed his panic. He had to protect John.

"You talk too much."

"I have never been told that."

"I said shut up!"

"Nope, want to know why?"

"No!"

"Too bad. See, if I keep talking, by the time I finish this sentence, if I have timed it right, this should happen." The room was filled with chaos as the police stormed into the room, knocking Mr. Watson off Sherlock's chest and pinning him to the floor. Sherlock sprung to his feet and released John's binding's, catching the broken boy in his arms as he fell.

He dropped John into one of the chairs, taking care with his broken leg. John grinned up at him, clinging to his jacket.

"Hey Gorgeous, long time no see."

"Really John? You've got to be in incredible pain right now and you're hitting on me?"

"Sorry, I thought that was what was supposed to happen when the sparkling knight saved the pretty damsel."

"You just called me 'sparkly'."

"I also called you a knight Sherlock, keep up." Sherlock blinked down at his grinning friend for a minute before returning the grin. He leaned his forehead against John's giggling with his friend until his was dragged away by EMT's so they could fix John's wounds.

Sherlock fought with the EMT's to ride in the ambulance with John, but they finally agreed after he not-so-subtly insinuated that they were cheating on their spouses with each other.

Sherlock stayed by John's side as much as possible, holding his good hand when he was allowed. John had six broken ribs, several severe lacerations, a concussion, and a broken knee. The hospital tried to release John into the care of his parents, but Sherlock fought to have John just released.

"His father just tried to beat him to death! You really think he is safe with his family?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Holmes, but John is still a minor, we have to release him into the care of his parents."

"You're being-"

"I believe I can help with this." Sherlock spun to find his older brother leaning heavily on his umbrella. John swayed unsteadily beside him, crutches tucked firmly under his arms. He looked confused, his gaze darting between Sherlock and the new man.

"Mycroft? I thought you were in Paris?"

"You really thought I would leave work for a month to wander around Paris with Mummy and Daddy? You're an idiot little brother." Sherlock frowned, but didn't object.

"Why are you here Mycroft?"

"To save your little friend apparently." Mycroft pushed off his umbrella and signaled for John to follow him. "This young man is to be released into the care of the Holmes family." He placed a folded piece of paper in front of the nurse.

"What?" Both John and Sherlock asked, John almost falling over in shock. Sherlock grabbed his elbow and held him close.

"His father is going to prison for several counts of child endangerment, attempted murder of a minor, and aggravated assault of a minor. His mother surrendered custody of John Watson to myself for the remainder of his time as a minor." Mycroft turned to face John and Sherlock, a slightly smug smile on his face. "Go home boys, and do try to avoid destroying the house." Mycroft turned back to the nurse, reaching to sign the papers for John's release. Sherlock grinned at John, his heart sinking when he saw the concerned frown on the other boy's face.

"Mycroft?" He asked, knowing what John was thinking.

"Yes, Brother Mine?"

"What of Harry? His little sister?" John's eyes closed, pushing tears from his eyes. Mycroft turned, seeing John's distress. He stepped up to the shorter man, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and smiling softly at the boy.

"Your baby sister has been placed in the care of our Godmother, Mrs. Hudson, where she will remain until she is an adult. It's over John. You are both safe." John grinned, dropping his crutches and wrapping his arms around Mycroft, shocking the older man.

"Thank you, Mycroft." John whispered into the man's chest as he sobbed. The elder Holmes sibling smiled, returning the hug gently. "How can I ever-"

"You owe me nothing John Watson. No child deserves to be beaten by his father. Besides, you have already given me everything that has ever mattered to me." John pulled away, steadying himself by gripping Mycroft's forearms.

"I-I don't understand."

"You saved my little brother Mr. Watson. It is I that owes you the world." With that, he left, offering John a wink as he walked away. Sherlock caught John as he started to lose his balance, propping him up against the counter and grabbing his discarded crutches.

"What did he mean?"

"About what John?"

"That I saved you? How?" Sherlock's mind flashed back to that night, after he left John.

Mycroft was waiting outside the warehouse, of course. That infernal umbrella open to protect him from the rain.

"Are you finished throwing your fit Brother Mine?"

"How did you find me?"

"Don't be stupid Sherlock, you always wind up here." Sherlock flipped him off, stumbling towards the car Mycroft had propped himself against. "Who was that?"

"Who?"

"The young man you who's life you just saved." Sherlock blushed, an image of John's sparkling eyes filling his mind.

"His name is John."

"Who did that to him?"

"His father." Mycroft's face turned to stone. Their father had been abused when he was a child, now both brothers hated men like that with a passion.

"You offered him assistance, I assume?"

"Of course."

"If you give him that option, you can't bail on him Sherlock. You have to stay clean."

"I know." He looked back at the warehouse, his nearly-sober mind cementing in his promise to John. "I won't abandon him."

"I gave up drugs, because I promised you I would always be there to help you." Sherlock mumbled, a deep blush crawling over his cheeks and neck. John looked at him in shock.

"I-I didn't know- y-you never said-"

"Of course I never said. How do you go about telling someone you just met that you gave up hard drugs because you promised to help them? We didn't know each other. I didn't even know if you would call, much less that we would become friends." Sherlock fiddled with the screw on one of John's crutches.

He gasped as John grabbed his waist, pulling him close and digging his good hand into Sherlock's curls. His being sparked with fire as John pulled his face down so their lips met. Sherlock could taste John's tears and just the faintest hint of blood from the cut on the shorter boy's lip. He sighed and melted into the kiss, his hands finding purchase on John's hips.

"Thank you, Sherlock."

"Why are you thanking me?"

"Because you have given me everything." Sherlock grinned down at John, slightly light-headed from the kiss. "Can we go home now?"

"Yeah John, let's go home."