~You've Shown Your Hand~

Currently Mrs. Hudson's words were repeating in his head over and over "It changes people, marriage". He hadn't thought it would change John, becoming a husband, and it hadn't. His becoming a father though had. His closest confidant was now somewhere at this very moment off changing nappies and wiping noses. When just mere months ago they had been running around together quipping back and forth while solving crimes.
Much had happened in their lives since the day Sherlock was to be exiled and sent to what his brother Mycroft had assured him would be his certain death. That exile while brief, just the time it took for the plane to take off and turn promptly right back round, had been a rather sobering moment for the self proclaimed Consulting Detective. Though he should have been thinking of strategies on how to obtain what could be called a "stay of execution". He was more concerned about what would become of his companion and trusted friend ex-military man, Doctor John Hamish Watson.
His concern for this man, his life, his wife, and their unborn child were the exact reason he found himself in this current situation. He had done everything he could to keep his vow that he had made to Mary and John on their wedding day. He had betrayed his own blood and shot a man in what appeared to be execution style for even entertaining the idea that he could harm Sherlock through hurting one of the very few people in this world he held dear.
Sherlock would never be described as a sentimental man by those who had met him, and even less so by those who knew him. John was his "pressure point" as Magnussen had to easily himself deduced. He had gone after John physically by almost having the man publically burnt to death and then emotionally by going after his recently married to and pregnant wife, Mary.
Mary, Sherlock had discovered, was not exactly the woman she was claiming to be. He knew very little about her factual history. She was obviously some sort of trained killer having shot Sherlock but only nearly killing him. She could have easily ended the detective's life the moment he happened upon her in Magnussen's office, but she hadn't. She was a crack shot too so it would have been easy at the short distance he had been standing from her.
Her intent was never to kill him though, just to remove him from the scenario till she had time to think, time to convince him to not tell John who she was, what she was, the same reason she had gone to Magnussens office from the start. For all her lies Mary did not lie about her affection for John, Sherlock had seen that the moment he met her. He trusted Mary, even though she was one of the few people who had ever been able to lie to him without him seeing right through her. Something about that of course upset the flamboyant hotshot detective but he found himself also rather impressed.
He may not know what she had done in her past, it could be more horrible then even he could imagine. He knew though that the woman she was now, Mary Watson, would be able to protect John. More so that she wanted to protect and care for John. It was a relaxing thought that even with Sherlock out of the picture John still had a sociopathic guardian angel looking after him.
John was no child needing tending to though. The ex-military Doctor had been more then capable of taking care of himself and even Sherlock at times. After just knowing Sherlock a few days John had shot a man through a window from another building when he felt Sherlock was in danger. Their bond was immediate and strong. The small statured almost indiscreet Doctor was one of the most admirable men Sherlock had ever heard of and had the pleasure to not just know, but be true friends with.
What did this all mean for Sherlock though? He was flying to what could have been his death and his only thoughts were of his friend. His brother Mycroft had always warned about becoming too familiar with others. "Alone keeps you safe" Mycroft's voice echoed through Sherlock's' brain. Sometimes though Sherlock wondered what Mycroft was really trying to tell him by using that word, you.
Mycroft, like Sherlock, was not one for flowery language or sentimental remarks but something his older brother had said to him suddenly came to the forefront of his mind, "All lives end. All hearts are broken. Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock" For the first time in a very long time, since the only funeral he had ever attended, besides his own of course, his mind drifedt back to Harris. That was the moment the phone rang, and he heard his brothers' voice, and not just in his head this time, telling him his greatest adversary somehow had also faked his own suicide, and that his face was currently being broadcasted on every single screen in Great Britain repeating the words over and over again "Did you miss me?" James Moriarty, the self proclaimed Consulting Criminal, was back. That meant if Moriarty was back Sherlock would have to be too. His greatest nemesis had saved him from exile.
No one was safe now, not Molly Hooper, Lestrade, his parents, Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson, Mary with her unborn child, and especially not John Watson himself. Sherlock had killed himself once to save them all before. His being cast out may have only lasted a handful of minutes but he had gleaned more about himself in those moments then he had cared for. Perhaps Mycroft had always been right. Alone keeps you (as well as everyone else) safe, and caring is not an advantage. He hated that Mycroft was always right.