Thank you so much to the lovely MrsNoggin for being a lovely beta. Story title taken from the song "Say Something" by Great Big World.

This chapter has a very brief mention of rape.

John walked through the door, weariness in every line of his body. It had been a particularly rough day at work, and he wanted nothing more than a cuppa and to relax with his wife. The look on Mary's face, though, brought him up short.

"What's wrong, love?" he asked, concerned. Mary was curled up on the couch, eyes red from crying.

"Sit down, John. There's something we need to talk about."

He sank down next to her, worry forming a tight knot in his stomach. "What's going on?"

"The baby…" she began, trailing off as she tried to collect herself. "It's not yours."

Whatever John had imagined Mary would say, it was not this. This was far worse. He sat quietly, feeling sick. Had he not been attentive? Was he simply not enough for her anymore? Had he driven her away with his friendship with Sherlock? He knew that their relationship was not always easy to understand, but Mary had always said that she accepted it.

"That's not funny," he said finally. This had to be some sort of sick joke. There was no way he deserved this.

"I know it's not funny. But it's true."

John fell back against the arm of the sofa, trying to absorb the information. He wished he could have felt completely surprised, but he had known that something was coming between them. He had thought Mary's moodiness was simply her hormones out of balance from pregnancy, but maybe he had been completely off the mark.

"How do you know?" John leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees, refusing to look at her.

"I wasn't sure, so I had a paternity test done."

"How?" he was genuinely surprised. John knew you needed to have either a blood or saliva sample for that kind of test, and he was sure he'd have remembered giving either of those.

"I… I drugged you."

John felt that Mary sounded far too calm for that particular statement. He looked over at her, and found himself unsurprised by the look on her face- she seemed unaffected by the declaration that she had dosed him. Deep down, he had never completely trusted her after the incident with Magnussen, as much as he had tried to. It was strangely fitting that she was living up to the fear he had thought buried last Christmas, when he had attempted to accepted her for who she was.

"What?" Something in John snapped as he observed her demeanor.

"Sherlock…" she trailed off.

"What did he do?" His voice was dangerous as he asked the question.

"Nothing," she admitted quietly. "But the story of Baskerville, how he drugged your coffee. It showed how easy it could be done."

"So you drugged my coffee to get a sample?"

"Your tea. It was a simple matter of adding some sleeping pills one evening. I needed a saliva sample, and it was the only way to get one without you asking questions I didn't want you asking."

"I see," John said, feeling completely numb. He sat in silence for a few moments, trying to get a grip on his thoughts. "Who is it?"

"John." Mary placed a hand on his shoulder. "Please…"

"Who is it?" he repeated, pulling Mary's hand off of him.

"Charles."

"Magnussen?" he whispered, hardly believing what he was hearing.

"Yes." Mary stared at her hands, folded in her lap.

"Did he," John swallowed, murder developing in his heart. "Did he rape you? Please don't lie."

"No, he didn't." She looked down at her lap. "It was consensual."

John was reeling, what Mary had just admitted was starting to sink in. His whole world had been turned upside down with this single conversation. John's emotions felt ripped in two. On one had he was incredibly relieved she hadn't been raped, but on the other he was incredibly angry at her infidelity. The combination made him feel incredibly guilty, but he pushed that aside to be dealt with at another time. Preferably a time where his emotions weren't so incredibly raw.

"Consensual," he said, betrayal filling his mind. She had cheated on him. She had cheated on him. With Magnussen. The thought circled his mind, threatening to get stuck there. He didn't even realise he had stood up until Mary stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"John, please don't leave me. I love you." Mary grasped at him, trying desperately to make him stay. He turned on her, unshed tears in his eyes.

"No. You love you. And I just can't do this anymore." He walked to the bedroom- their bedroom- pulling out a duffel bag from the closet and throwing clothes blindly into it. Mary waddled along behind him, seeming to realize that nothing she could say would help the situation.

"John…" she trailed off, hovering in the doorway as she watched him. He ignored her, knowing that he was about to lose his temper. He didn't want to make this any easier for her, knowing that if he started shouting she would feel more justified about cheating. Zipping up the bag, he shouldered it and patiently waited for Mary to move out of the doorway.

"Don't leave," she begged again.

"I just can't do this anymore- too many lies, too much deceit. I don't even know who you are anymore."

"I'm the same person I've always been."

"No," John said, finally getting past her. "Everything has been a lie. Everything."

"John," she pleaded, "John, please. I'm sorry."

"Just… stop. Stop this manipulation. Goodbye, Mary." He slammed the door, and headed to the one place he could really call home.