He stopped the cab three doors down from his destination. He paid the cabbie and hesitated before he got out. He turned his collar up and smiled a little as he thought about something that had been said so long ago. That when he did that he was showing off to look cool. He just hoped that the person who said it would want to see him again. It had been three years. Three years since Sherlock Holmes had jumped off of the roof of St. Bart's. Three years since he had been declared a fraud by Scotland Yard and the press. Three years since he had last seen John Watson standing in front of his grave begging Sherlock not to be dead.

Sherlock Holmes now walked towards the door to 221B Baker Street. He had no idea how he would convince John Watson to let him in, let alone let him explain. He just knew it was time. Time for the truth. Time to come home.

He stood in front of the door and hesitated again before he rang the bell. He hoped John would answer and not Mrs. Hudson. He did not know how the older woman would react to his resurrection and he did not want to hurt her any more than he already had. It was moments later when the door opened and before him stood the man he had wanted to see more than anyone in the world. Before he could get a word out, the door was promptly slammed in his face.

He knocked. The door immediately opened and John sighed as he looked at him. "I've finally cracked up," John said quietly. "I've finally cracked up. It took three years but it's finally happened."

"John, I'm real," Sherlock said as John shook his head.

"No. No, see if you were real, you wouldn't have let me go through the hell of the last three years," John said as he glared at Sherlock. "If you were real, you wouldn't have put Mrs. Hudson through your funeral. That woman loved you like a son. She was devastated when I told her you committed suicide."

"I did it to protect her," Sherlock said as he stood inside the doorway. "I did it to protect her and Lestrade and you. Especially you. You would have died if I hadn't jumped. You would have been killed by a sniper's bullet. I did what I had to do to make sure that did not happen."

"What are you talking about?" John asked as he finally released his grip on the door.

"Please, John, can we go upstairs?" Sherlock asked. "I don't want Mrs. Hudson to find us arguing in the hallway."

John thought about it for a minute. "Yeah, all right. I don't want her to be shocked into a heart attack or something."

John motioned for Sherlock to go upstairs. Sherlock started up the stairs as John shut the front door and took out his phone. He waited a minute. "Greg, you better come over. Quick as you can, yeah?"

"John, what's going on?" Greg's voice asked from the other end of the line.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," John sighed. "Just get over here quickly."

"Yeah, sure, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"All right," John said as he hung up and went upstairs. When he entered the flat he saw Sherlock standing in front of the window like he had so many times before. John closed his eyes. He still wasn't completely convinced that he wasn't cracking up. When he opened them, Sherlock was looking at him.

"I assume you called Lestrade," Sherlock said as John fell into his chair.

"Yeah, I did. Are you going to tell me how this is possible?"

"I would rather only explain it once," Sherlock said as he turned back towards the window. John didn't see the look of heartbreak on the younger man's face.

It was fifteen minutes later when they heard someone coming up the stairs. Sherlock turned from the window when he heard Greg say "Bloody Hell."

He was surprised to see the Detective Inspector holding the hand of a small boy of about five and an infant in his arms.

"Daddy, Papa said you aren't allowed to say that in front of me and Abi," the boy said.

"I know, Danny," Greg said as he looked down at the boy. "Daddy just had a shock. How about I take you and Abi upstairs and she can take her nap while you make a picture for Papa?"

"You said I could watch telly when we got to Uncle John's."

"And you can. Remember Uncle John has a telly upstairs for you and he has some of your favorite DVD's. You can watch them and make a picture for Papa."

"Okay, Daddy," Danny said as he looked over at John. "Hi Uncle John."

"Hi Little Man," John said as he smiled at the boy.

"I'll get them settled and be right back," Greg promised.

"Daddy, why does he look like the picture of Uncle Sherlock Papa has in his study?" Danny asked as they went upstairs.

"I'll tell you later," Greg said as his voice faded.

"Lestrade has children?" Sherlock asked John after they were alone again.

"I thought that would be obvious," John said as he glared at Sherlock. "You knew about Danny before you…"

"Yes, but I thought Lestrade had a wife. That child referred to his Papa."

"Lestrade's divorce was finalized while we were investigating Baskerville," John sighed. "Charlotte made him think she was having an affair and filed for divorce. She lied. She was sick."

"Cancer," Sherlock remembered. "I was going to tell him after we got back but Moriarty…"

"Yeah," John said as he looked away from Sherlock. "Anyway, Greg and his husband got married about six months after your death. His husband adopted Danny and Abi was born six months ago."

"Who's his husband?"

"Mycroft," Greg said as he came back into the room. "I knew he was keeping something from me. I just thought it was something involving the government. I never thought it was you."

"Mycroft knew?" John asked as Sherlock sighed.

"Not until it was too late to do anything about it," he said as he sat in his armchair.

John took a seat in his chair while Greg sat on the couch. "Why did you do it?"

"I arranged to meet Moriarty on the roof of St. Bart's after you left to check on Mrs. Hudson. I knew the phone call was a hoax. He was trying to get me alone. I thought that he wanted to kill me. So I made arrangements to fake my death. I required Mycroft's assistance to make it look like I was really dead. I never intended for you to witness it, John. I also thought I could avoid it by capturing Moriarty."

"What happened?" Greg asked. "We found his body on the roof after you…"

"He told me that he had three snipers trained on the three most important people in my life," Sherlock said as he closed his eyes. He opened them and looked at Greg. "You, Mrs. Hudson and…"

"And John," Greg completed for him.

"I thought I could make him call them off. I never thought he would shoot himself. I knew then I didn't have a choice. I had to jump. When you got out of that taxi, I knew I had to keep you from coming on that roof, John. I would never have been able to go through with it if you had come onto that roof. And the consequences were unacceptable."

"You jumped to save our lives?" John asked as Sherlock looked at him and nodded his head.

"You didn't think about what I would go through watching you die?" John asked as he got up and started to pace.

"John, I didn't have a choice," Sherlock said as Greg held a hand up.

"John, I don't like it any more than you do but I understand why he did it," he said as John turned and glared at him. "Think about it, John. He did it to save your life. To save my life and Mrs. Hudson's. If he hadn't, where would Danny be now? If he hadn't, Abi wouldn't be upstairs in her cot having a nap."

Greg turned to Sherlock. "What have you been doing the last three years? You've obviously stayed clean."

"Only just," Sherlock admitted as he lowered his head for a minute. He knew how hard both John and Greg had fought to keep him sober. "There were times that I thought the only way to stave off the loneliness would be to get high. Then I would hear your voice in my head, or John's, and I knew how disappointed both of you would be."

John took a good hard look at him. "Your eating habits haven't improved."

"Too busy taking down Moriarty's web," Sherlock shrugged. "I only just finished eliminating the last piece of the puzzle a month ago. The sniper that was sent after you, John. Ironically he served in Afghanistan with you. Colonel Sebastian Moran."

John's eyes grew big. "I remember him. He was special forces."

"He was determined to kill you after Moriarty died. I think he knew I was still alive somehow. I chased him across Europe and Asia before I finally was able to eliminate him."

"How many people did you have to kill?" John asked softly.

"Too many to count," Sherlock said as he looked John in the eye. "I did what I had to do to make sure you were safe."

"Daddy!" Danny's voice came from upstairs. "Abi's stinky!"

"I'll be right there, mate!" Greg called to his son. "I'll be right back."

He got up and went to the upstairs bedroom while Sherlock watched him. He looked over at John. "Lestrade and Mycroft?"

"I know," John laughed a little. "I was surprised myself. Turns out Mycroft had been there for Greg when the divorce happened. They had started dating and were engaged when Charlotte died. It was Mycroft's idea for him to adopt Danny."

"Are you really my Uncle Sherlock?" came Danny's voice.

Both men looked at saw him standing just past the door to the sitting room. Sherlock got up and went over to kneel in front of the boy. "Yes, I am. It's nice to see you Danny. I haven't seen you since you were very small."

"Daddy said you had died," Danny said as he looked at his uncle. "It made Papa very sad."

"I understand your Papa was sad," Sherlock said. "And I'm sorry. I didn't die but I had to go away to make sure you and your Daddy and your Papa and Uncle John were safe."

"Is my Mummy going to come back too?"

Sherlock looked over at John who got up and joined them. "Danny, your Mummy was very poorly. She didn't want to leave you but she had to. Uncle Sherlock didn't want to leave either and I understand how it is confusing."

"I understand," Danny said sadly. "Mummy was sick and couldn't get better. Uncle Sherlock had to go away to stop the bad guys from hurting us."

"Exactly," Sherlock said as he scooped the boy up. "Now, I think it's high time you introduced me to your sister."

They left the sitting room and went up the stairs just as Greg finished changing Abi's nappy. "Lestrade…Greg, I think you have someone there I need to meet," Sherlock said as he put Danny down.

Greg smiled a little. "Sherlock Holmes, meet your niece, Abigail Lestrade Holmes."

Greg was surprised when Sherlock reached out and took the baby. "Hello Abigail. I wish I had seen your Papa's face when he found out you were on your way."

Greg laughed. "I thought he was going to drop his tea when I told him."

"You carried her?" Sherlock asked surprised.

"Don't look that surprised. I'm not that old."

"I didn't say you were. I just forgot that Mycroft couldn't carry children. I guess I just supposed he could because I can."

"You probably deleted it," came Mycroft's voice from the door.

"Papa!" Danny shouted as he ran to Mycroft. Sherlock was surprised when he saw Mycroft set aside his customary umbrella to catch the child and pull him into his arms.

"Have you been good for your Daddy today Poppet?" Mycroft asked with a warm smile on his face.

"Uh huh," Danny nodded. "Papa, look. Uncle Sherlock came back."

"I see that," Mycroft said as he turned his attention to his younger brother. "And I think that since Uncle John is a doctor he should take Uncle Sherlock to his clinic to make sure that Uncle Sherlock is in tip top shape. Just like he did you before you started school."

Danny turned his head to John. "Uncle John, you will make sure Uncle Sherlock is all right, won't you?"

"Of course I will Mate," John said as he smiled at the boy. "Tell you what, why don't you and Papa go tell Mrs. Hudson that Uncle Sherlock is home while I take him to the clinic."

"I'm fine," Sherlock said as he gave Mycroft a look.

"Really?" Mycroft said as he appraised his brother. "You've lost weight you couldn't afford to lose. You are paler than you should be. You are favoring your right side. Even something as simple as holding my daughter is putting a strain on you and she's only six months old and doesn't weigh that much."

"Come on Sherlock," John said as he came over to his friend and Greg took his daughter back. "It won't take too long. Then we can meet Mycroft, Greg and the kids at Angelo's for dinner."

Sherlock looked around the room. Somehow the faces that convinced him to cooperate were John's and Danny's. The look on the little boy's face broke Sherlock's heart. He nodded and followed John. He was determined to make sure the child knew that his lost uncle was fine and wasn't going anywhere. Danny had already lost too much in his life with his mother's death.

An hour later, Sherlock and John entered Angelo's. Sherlock was startled when he received a hug from the restaurant owner. "Careful Angelo," John warned. "He's covered in bruises and has a couple of cracked ribs."

Angelo nodded as he let go of Sherlock. "I knew you were still alive. I knew it. Just like I knew John and Greg would prove you weren't a fraud."

"Thank you Angelo," Sherlock said as John directed him to the table their family was sitting at. Mrs. Hudson stood as soon as she saw him, tears in her eyes. He let her pull him into a tender embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Hudson," he said as he put his chin on her shoulder. "I never…"

"Hush now," she said as she let him go and stroked his cheek. "Mycroft and Greg explained everything to me. And Danny made sure I understood that you were trying to protect all of us. I know why you did it. I'm just grateful you're back now."

Sherlock just nodded as she led him to a chair. Mycroft looked up at John as the doctor sat down. "He's okay," John told the group. "He's got some cracked ribs and massive bruising on his right side but there's no internal bleeding. He is underweight."

"John, please, I am right here," Sherlock said as Danny slid the basket of breadsticks over to him.

"Please eat Uncle Sherlock," he said.

Sherlock just nodded and took a breadstick. John just shook his head as Angelo came over and took their orders. After dinner, Mycroft and Greg took their kids home while Sherlock and John made sure Mrs. Hudson got to her flat okay. John started up the stairs then looked back and saw Sherlock standing at the front door about to open it. "Where are you going?"

Sherlock looked up at him. "I'm going to find a hotel until I can find another place to live."

"Why?" John said as he came down the stairs and stood in front of Sherlock.

"Because you don't want me to stay."

"When did I say that? When did I give you an indication that I didn't want you to stay?"

"You turned your room into a nursery for Lestrade's children. You've clearly moved into my room. There is nowhere for me in the flat anymore."

"You idiot," John said as he smiled at him. "I thought you were dead. I've been sleeping in your room ever since that day because it made me feel closer to you. I thought I was going to fall apart when you died. I hadn't slept in the upstairs bedroom in three years."

"Why? Why would you do that?"

"Because I love you, you berk."

Sherlock just looked at him for a second then he leaned in and kissed John. When they parted, John looked at him. "You're not doing that just because I said I love you?"

"Yes, well, no," Sherlock said. "I did it because I have wanted to do that ever since that night at the swimming pool."

"You have?"

"Yes, but I suggest we take this conversation upstairs before Mrs. Hudson comes back out and thinks we're going to have sex in the hallway."

John just laughed as he led Sherlock up the stairs. As soon as they entered the flat, he turned and kissed Sherlock again. Before they knew it they were in the bed making love to each other. After they had finished the 3rd round, John held Sherlock close. "Sleep, love, you need it."

Sherlock just nodded.

John pulled Sherlock close. "I love you Sherlock. Don't ever forget that."

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John as they lay back down and he put his head on John's chest. John stroked his lover's hair until Sherlock fell asleep. John couldn't help but think of what the younger man had been through the last three years. He vowed then and there to make sure that Sherlock was taken care of and that he knew how much he was loved, not only by John but by the rest of his family.