"What are you, my bloody sober companion?" Harriet Watson asked as her older brother unsuccessfully tried to cover up the fact that he was checking her kitchen cabinets for booze.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," John answered dryly. He decided to start checking everywhere else as well.

"I'm clean. I've been for months, John. By all means, search the flat top to bottom if you must. Mind if I have a bit of shut eye while you do it? It's been a long day." Harry let out an exaggerated yawn.

"Well, your record gives me plenty of reason for concern, doesn't it?" said John as he began checking behind the furniture.

Harry angrily snatched a coaster from her end table and chucked it at John's head. "Oy! " said John. "That wasn't funny!"

"Wasn't meant to be!" said Harry as she shot up from the sofa.

"I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you don't fall off the wagon again, Harry. Sorry if it puts you off a bit."

"Excuse me, Who was it that took care of YOU, after Sherlock decided to take a jump—" Harry stopped at the look on her brother's face. She took a deep breath. "Sorry."

"No-no, you're right."

"And I haven't had a drop since."

"I know, but I can risk losing anyone else."

"You won't lose me, at least not to the booze."

John walked over to his sister and pulled her into a tight embrace. "How can I be sure of that?" Harry pulled back a little and met his gaze.

"Did you ever wonder why I started drinking in the first place?"

"I just thought it was because of Mum and Dad's accident"

"That's only part of it." Harry exhaled slowly and but her lip. She'd never really spoken to anyone about the last time she'd spoken to her father.

"You did speak to them before they died, didn't you?"

"I sort of spoke to Dad; if you can call it that… Mum wouldn't see me."

John felt a knot in his chest. He knew things were tense between his sister and his parents, but had a feeling he was about to find out how tense. He sat down on the sofa and gestured for Harry to do the same. She slowly sank into the seat beside him. She rested her elbows on her knees and pressed the tips of her fingers to her lips. John put his arm around her.

"Look I know Mum and dad weren't always easy to-"

"Mum and Dad never disowned you, did they?"

"What?"

"When I told them I was gay, they said they didn't want to see me anymore. You were stationed in Afghanistan at the time. I went to the hospital when I heard about the accident. Dad told me I was a disgrace. He said he didn't have a daughter; threatened to call security on me. He knew it was the last time we'd talk and that's what he said."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't want to bother you with it." Harry said with a shrug. She wiped her tears with her sleeve. "Anyway, I started obsessing over the fact that my own parents didn't want me. The only thing that took the edge off was a glass of wine…soon wine wasn't strong enough. But after what happened to Sherlock and what it did to you, I decided that Mum and Dad didn't matter. Their problem with me was their problem, not mine. I won't let it rule me ever again."

"And Clara?"

"What?"

"Well, I never asked about Clara either."

"She was cheating on me. It's why she bought the phone, and a lot of other gifts I got rid of when I got rid of her, except Gladstone, of course." Harry indicated her bulldog curled up in his little bed in the corner.

"I'm so sorry," said John.

"For what?"

"Well, it's not like I treated you any better than Mum and Dad."

"John, you didn't approve of my drinking; my choice. Mum and Dad couldn't accept me for who I am."

John's phone rang. Harry glanced down and saw Mary's name on the caller ID. "You'd better take that."

"I can call her back."

"John, answer it."

"We're having dinner tomorrow night with her. Promise to behave yourself."

"Won't be a problem," said Harry with a grin. "I actually like Mary."

"Do you?" said John raising his eyebrows skeptically. The one thing Harry Watson had in common with Sherlock Holmes was the level of contempt for his girlfriends.

"Yeah, well, she actually cares about you," said Harry. "But you should shave your mustache before tomorrow if the dinner's that important."

"What would you know of that?" asked John. "You're a lesbian and my sister." He teased as he answered his phone.

Shshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshshsh

When John finished his conversation with Mary, he walked back into his sister's sitting room to find her asleep on the sofa. He grabbed a blanket, covered her with it. He was completely oblivious to the fact that he was being watched through the window by the cabbie he and his sister had taken no note of earlier that day. It was the same cabbie who would also be a waiter at the bistro he would be dining at with his sister and his fiancée the next evening. For most of the evening they would take no notice of the waiter.