A/N: You'll see a different side of Sherlock that may surprise you.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock. But I do own Abigail and Brianna.

Sherlock was toeing off his shoes when the first notes of a song he'd not heard in years blared from 221b. Anger coursed through him as he raced up the stairs. Once to the top he threw open the door to reveal Mycroft. Knowing she was somewhere in the flat he kept his voice low. The smell of her toiletries waft from the bathroom

"Why did you bring her?" he all but growled knowing if she heard him talk like that it would upset her unnecessarily.

"Because she's your wife, Sherlock." Mycroft said trying to stay calm. "Besides she's on medication now that has her stabilized. Don't keep blaming her for Brianna's death! You know it wasn't her fault."

John walked into the flat and upon seeing Mycroft, John turned to Sherlock who looked like he'd been slapped. That puzzled him along with why it smelled of vanilla and roses in the flat.

Before anyone could say anything an excited feminine voice came from the doorway of Sherlock's bedroom.

"Sherlock!" a short auburn headed female rushed past John knocking him off balance as she was making her was to the taller man. She wrapped her arms around his middle and it looked like she would've buried her face in his torso if it hadn't been for her spectacles. The Consulting Detective looked lost as to what to do but he hugged her to him nonetheless. When she pulled back, Sherlock turned her to face John and said thickly, "John, this is Abby. My wife."

"I beg your pardon? Wife? Where has she been hiding?" he choked out in surprise.

"At the family estate. She's been receiving treatment for Bipolar Disorder. Which took a lot longer than I'd anticipated. Sherlock, I found her a therapist here in London so you don't have to worry about that. No need to worry about her medications or spectacles. I have that covered. Now I must be off." Mycroft stood and as he got close to Abby they embraced. "Now, sister, remember try not to lose your temper with Sherlock. He's changed just as much as you have." Abby nodded with a smile, her bright blue eyes shining with happiness.

Once Mycroft left Abby wanted to take Sherlock's hand but she knew how he felt about that. Unless he initiated it. They'd not seen each other in almost four years. The last time they saw each other they'd had a huge row and she did as she threatened-she buzzed his head with the electric hair trimmer. Somehow Mycroft knew and took Sherlock to rehab and then came round to get her. To take her to a Psychiatric Hospital. She stayed for a month before being take to the estate and she stayed there unless she had an appointment with doctors. She couldn't even go walking by herself. She was fine at first but then as the years grew on she grew tired of it. Sherlock didn't even come to visit, only Mycroft and he kept her up to date on what her husband was doing.

The man with the blond hair was just taller than her and after a few awkward minutes he said, "I'm Doctor John Watson. Nice to meet you."

She smiled and said, "Abby Holmes." before she could say anything else Sherlock gave her a look and said in a certain tone, "Abby."

She squealed in excitement despite the fact she knew he was angry because she knew what to expect. Abby ran from the lounge and to Sherlock's bedroom before throwing off her clothes and jumping in the bed.

John gave Sherlock a puzzled look as the taller man said in a tone he didn't recognize, "No matter what you hear or think is going on in there, do not-I repeat DO NOT-come in there or allow anyone else to go in there."

Before the shorter man could say a word Sherlock had slammed the bedroom door.

It wasn't even a few minutes when John heard a hand slap against skin. Shaking his head he knew for some reason that wasn't going to be the worst he would hear that night. It was a good thing Mrs. Hudson was on holiday.

An hour and half to two hour later Holmes came out in just his pajama pants scratching his head. John saw a few distinct scratches on Sherlock's arms and shoulders.

"I wish I still smoked." Sherlock said to no on in particular as he grabbed his mobile to check his messages. Seeing none he texted Lestrade to let him know Abby was back.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock, I was completely wrong about you." John muttered.

Sherlock's head snapped up and before he said, "You thought I was gay. Its okay I'm mostly asexual till it comes to her. Then well-you'll see when she gets up. Before you think it I don't abuse her-its different than that."

A little while later Abby came out of the bedroom in a no sleeves night gown and John could see bruises forming on her wrist in the shape of handprints. Plus she was walking awkwardly then she looked around before stiffening and whispering accusatory, "You don't have a picture of her anywhere. Me I'd understand but her, Sherlock!"

His long legs ate up the distance between then and he lifted her without any effort. He went and sat her on the sofa before kneeling in front of her. "Brianna is dead and there is nothing you nor I can do to bring her back. I don't have a picture of her around because it made me think of you. And thinking of you would make me angry at the fact I wasn't there to protect either one of you. Lestrade feels the same way but for different reasons and you know that."

"Wow that's really rational of you, Darling. And I'm really sorry for buzzing your hair off that night." She whispered going from anger to contrite in a matter of seconds.

Sherlock shrugged stating pompously, "I deserved it because of how badly I upset you. I allowed you to do because I love you."

"You never stopped even when you yelled into the telephone while you at rehab that you knew I'd called your brother?"

He nodded, "Look I know I was using much more after Brianna was killed. I was using because I foolishly believed that if I stopped I would forget her. But I was wrong. It took me a long time to come to understand that."

"Who're you and what have you done to the Sherlock Holmes I know?" John stated in awe.

"I told you I'm different with her. Even my brain is different. I don't know why." Sherlock stated before his mobile buzzed. He grabbed it and saw it was text from Lestrade.

Its good she made it safely. I'll be round in the morning to see you both -Lestrade

A/N: I hope I didn't change Sherlock too much. And you'll have to wait till the next chapter to find out what Lestrade's relationship was and now is to Abby. I haven't lost a child to death but I know what it's like to have a child taken from me. So I can relate to Abby and Sherlock. Please review and let me know what I can do to keep Sherlock and everyone else within how their supposed to be.

Lana