before they left london, sherlock was taken back to his flat to finish packing up his bag then told angelo that he'd be back next friday evening hopefully. he got back into the car with his brother, the tension spilling over the top as the car took them back home.

the sight of his childhood home brought back his forgotten past. he remembered running around the yard with his dog, dressed up in his pirate hat and wooden sword. the days his mother and father took them to the beach for a picnic. when he first got called an idiot by mycroft, when his dog died, the day his only friend moved away, and the day he left. it brought back awful memories looking at the manor, but also some good ones. he tightened his grip on his bag then followed mycroft down the stone walk way, stepping through the door and getting hit with the filmier scent of his mother's cinnamon honey bars. he was home.

"they're in the kitchen." mycroft said to his brother, taking his bag. "i'll take this to your room. go and see them."

sherlock nodded. he removed his coat, hanging it up on the hooks next to the door, hanging his scarf with it. he walked through the short hall from the sitting room to the kitchen, looking at the photos his mother had put up of the family. he stepped into the kitchen, seeing his father sitting at the table with the newspaper, his glasses resting on the edge of his nose. then there was his mother, staring at him with tearful eyes as her hand covered her mouth. she looked perfectly healthy.

"hi, mum." sherlock said with a smile.

mrs. holmes let out a sob as she walked around the table, latching onto her youngest tightly.

sherlock hugged back, forgetting what the comfort of his mother felt like. she still smelled like her usual perfume, the one his father got her on her twentieth birthday. every year she got a new bottle and never went a day with out wearing it.

"sherlock, my boy!" mr. holmes cheered, wrapping his arms around his wife and son.

sherlock laughed softly. "hi dad." he was still holding onto his mother, not being able to let her go. "i've missed you both. i'm so sorry for leaving like that."

mrs. holmes let go of her son, patting his cheek. she smiled up at him. "i'm just glad you're healthy and alive." she wiped her sons tears with her thumbs. "i'm glad your home."

sherlock smiled. he didn't realize he started crying. "i'm glad i'm home too." he looked at his father who was not able to control his happiness.

"look at you! twenty three and not eighteen! all grown up!" he cheered.

sherlock laughed softly, giving his father a hug, getting a clap on the back from him.

"i made tea. and the honey bars." mrs. holmes said. "sit, sit." she said to her son as she walked back around the table, grabbing the oven mitts.

sherlock let go of his father then sat at the table, his father taking a seat where he was before. he watched his mother pour a cup of tea of sherlock, setting out the sugar and a plate of her honey bars. he thanked his mother then put two spoonfuls of sugar in his tea, mixing it as he snatched a few honey bars, setting them on a napkin. mycroft sat at the other end of the table, smiling up at his mother as she set a cup of tea in front of him as well.

"mum, sit. i want to talk with you and dad." sherlock said. he quickly stuffed a bar in his mouth after soaking it in his tea, forgetting how good they were.

mrs. holmes made herself a cup of tea before sitting across from sherlock. "what is it?" she asked.

"you know of the watsons, correct?" he asked his parents.

his father nodded. "hamish is nice fellow."

sherlock glanced at mycroft, getting a nod from him. he sighed then looked at his mother then at his father. "their son and i are in a relationship." his mother gasped, smiling.

"oh that's wonderful!" she cheered.

mr. watson grinned. "that's amazing to hear!" he clapped sherlock on the shoulder, smiling widely at him.

after the tea and small talk, mrs. holmes started making dinner while mr. holmes went to his home office for his scheduled phone call with his publisher about his new book. sherlock and mycroft when into the sitting room, sitting opposite of each other as sherlock stared blankly at his brother.

"mother seems perfectly healthy. started a new skin care routine going by the softness of her hands. you lied to get me down here."

"yes and you fell for it. i was always the smarter one." mycroft said with his know it all smirk.

"why did you want me here now? i was due to come saturday."

"they wanted you here sooner."

"i have a job."

"yes, angelo's. nasty little place. surprised it passed health inspections."

sherlock rolled his eyes. "what do you want from me?"

"at dinner, i want you to tell our parents why you decided to run away. what you've been doing all these past years. why you made contact now."

"is that all?" sherlock asked.

"yes." mycroft replied.

sherlock got up from the chair he was sitting in, ignoring the stare from his brother as he headed for the stair case, walking slowly down the corridor to his room. there was a faded line from when he was younger and ran down the hall with a permanent marker against the wall. he smiled softly at the memory, looking at the family photos on the wall. everything was still in the same place and the guilt sat heavy on his shoulders as he stopped outside his bedroom door, looking in to see everything as he left it except the room was spotless. his bed was still in the corner with the shelves above it that were filled with books and cds. his desk was spotless besides a few text books stacked from largest to smallest and his lamp. his bookshelves weren't a cluttered mess and were nice and organized, his microscope and chemistry set sitting neatly on the middle shelf. he kneeled at the side of his bed, reaching his arm under as he felt for the familiar case then once he felt it, he pulled it out. the leather was covered in a thick layer of dust, but sherlock could see his named carved in that he did with his pocket knife when he was thirteen. he leaned against his bed, stretching his legs out as he set the case in his lap, flicking the locks open and looking at his instrument. he took his phone out his back pocket, unlocking it the dialing john's number.

"hey," the voice came through the phone. "we just got done with dinner. mum loves the bracelet. how are things there?"

"my parents were happy to see me. my mother cried and my father constantly had a smile on his face." his fingers traced the strings of his violin.

"was that not the reaction you wanted?"

"i dunno. i expected them to be pissed or something else, but not as happy as they were. my mum made cinnamon honey bars, knowing they're my favorite and also made tea."

"i'm sure she just missed you. you are her son and you were gone for years. how is she?"

"that was a lie to get me here sooner." sherlock sighed, gently plucking a string with his index finger. "mycroft wants me to tell them why i ran away and what i've been doing."

"that would be the right thing. they're your parents, love. they deserve to know."

"i told them about you." sherlock's mouth curled into a smile.

"oh yeah?"

"yeah," he huffed out a laugh. "my mum was happy for me as well as my father."

"well that's good. also irene says hello. she's currently going on about how cute the bracelet is and that we should-

"-hurry up and get on with it!" irene interrupted john, shouting into the phone and into john's ear.

sherlock laughed softly, hearing a thud then john giggling as irene threatened to choke him out for kicking her off the bed. "i have a serious question." sherlock said. "i need it to be private though."

"right," john said softly. there was silence and sherlock heard the soft click of a door then the ruffling of john getting comfortable. "i've locked the door and buried myself into my clothes. i don't think irene will be able to hear me."

sherlock huffed out a small laugh. "now, i'm not proposing. it does have something to do with that though." he felt the string of his bow between his fingers. "but, would you be keen of the idea of me asking your parents for your hand in marriage."

"you know you're supposed to do it without me knowing, right?"

"yes. i do. i just don't want to propose then you say no."

john wasn't able to contain his smile. "you're and idiot."

"i know. now answer the question."

"of course i would be keen of that idea. i'd be mad if i wasn't."

sherlock was grinning like a school boy who had just asked his crush out. "don't be expecting something to happen." sherlock said a bit sarcastically. "it's not like i want to marry you or anything."

"me either." john played along, laughing softly. "that would be a total disaster."

sherlock laughed. his eyes moved to his door where his brother was standing. "dinner." mycroft said then walked away.

"hey, i'll call you later tonight. my mum just finished dinner."

"yeah. okay. i love you."

"love you, too." sherlock said the hung up. he pushed his violin out of his lap then got up, stuffing his phone into his pocket as he went downstairs. the sweet scent of his mother's roast engulfed him as he walked downstairs. he smiled to himself and walked into the dining room, seeing his father setting the dish on the table as his mother was already seated at the end of the table, smiling at sherlock.

"it's got everything you like. potatoes, carrots, peppers, and asparagus." she said.

sherlock went to his mother, kissing her cheek and thanking her before sitting across from mycroft. the auburn raised a brow and him and he nodded, knowing what he needed to do.