Silence
'Be silent, don´t make a noise or he will hurt you!' The boy in the cage shivers from the cold, wet air and out of fear. Fear of being seen and been used for whatever the men who took him want to. Fear of the bored men who always find something new they want to teach the boy. Or fear of being forgotten, like the month before when he nearly died because no one came and gave him water. He had been so thirsty like never before in his life until his mind wasn't able to think anymore. They had found him and showed mercy. They gave him water and soup afterwards. Drinks and meals together was a rare occasion.
The boy didn't understand why they keep him. His parents refused to pay for him. No wonder. They would never answer a kidnapping or any other threat. They still have another 'perfect' son as heir. He loved his brother and the boy was sure that his brother loved him back but they parents weren't able to feel love or even affection for their children. They need perfect little puppets, with perfect manners, perfect dreams and perfect appearance. They need only one, when the second one gets killed it doesn't matter. 'He wasn't perfect anyway, they don't need him' the boy thought for the millions time since he heard his kidnapper argue about what should happen with him. What use had a child no one pays for it? Useless; that is what he is, useless.
After they had treated him relatively human to the beginning, until they got the message his parents wouldn't pay the horror of his captives begun first. Cutting his food and water, treating him worse than an unwanted animal they forbid him one day to talk, to make any kind of noise. No crying, no load breathing, no making noises on the metal form the cage. Noting, every noise lead to a punishment that let the boy hold his breath when one of the man was close.
The boy looks out of his cage, between the bars and dreams of a bit blue sky or the wind on his skin. He thinks about the last book he read and the feeling from the paper under his fingertips. He misses the warmth of a hug from his brother and a good night kiss in the evening on his forehead. He doesn't want to go home back to his parents but he wants his brother.
Greg Lestrade, twenty-one years old and his first week in his new job as police officer for the NSY, was nervous. Really nervous because he wasn't sure that the police academy had prepared him probably to enter the base of a criminal organization. He wasn't alone, his colleagues, the ones with much more experience, try to take away as much nervousness as possible.
Lestrade wasn't sure what he expected as they entered the building but he was very sure a fight of life and death was not planed.
While walking through the gate the silence around them was more than a little suspicious. They know from the heat signature that there were at least ten people in the building. The first bullet that flew through the air was the one that nearly ended his life, a few millimeters to the left and the thing would have hit him into his eye. Lestrade throw himself to the ground behind a small container, taking cover. Later he couldn't tell what happens in which order but at least one of the criminal was taken down by his gun. He didn't kill the man, but he had injured him at his leg. Lestrade don't want to imagine the feeling he would have had if he had kill that man. He had never killed but even a criminal had the right to face justice alive.
After the gang had given up, most in pain on the ground, the police start to secure the crime scene and searching the building. Lestrade and two other officers were searching the cellar, as they enter the last room of the corridor they found something horrible, they found someone. Locked in a cage that was supposed to hold dogs or other animals, was in the far corner a child. Not older than five, set a boy crouched in the corner with the greatest distance to the door. The room was dark the only light came from a naked bolt from the ceiling. They boy didn't move and without his moving eyes he could be dead.
The police officer lower they weapons and Lestrade as the youngest moved slowly to the cage. One of his colleagues gave him a blot cutter to open the lock. He lowered himself down and tries to look not threatened.
"Hey sunshine, my name is Greg. I´m a police officer and I will get you out of here. Okay?" The boy´s eyes watched him but he didn't answer or moved.
"I will open the cage don't be surprised. I will make sure none of the pieces will hurt you." Still no reaction, but for now it was good that the boy was away from the door, Lestrade used the bolt cutter at the lock and puts the pieces in his pocket before he opens the door.
"You can come out now. It´s save. We will bring you home." It took more than a minute until the boy starts to move but he stops in the middle of the cage, as if he waits for Lestrade to move away from the door. Sensing it, Lestrade stepped back and waited for the boy to come out.
Standing in front of the police officers they could see him shiver if out of fear or coldness was not clear. But the boy must have been a prisoner for a long time. Thin, dirty and very frighten. Lestrade takes off his uniform jacket, slowly and lays it around the boy´s shoulder. Wrapping him is the better word and to his surprise was the boy not moving, just waiting.
"Can you tell me your name or where you live?" Big blue eyes look into his soul but no word was spoken. "Let´s get out of here we can find out the other stuff later." Smiling he picked up the boy, who didn't fight and by the time they reached the door upstairs, his little fingers cramp into Lestrade´s shirt.
Outside was already half a docent of ambulances waiting for them, one especially for the found boy who was still not talking or making any noise, holding on to Lestrade as if he was his only life-line.
The paramedic did what they could do in this situation. Treat his small injuries, give him something to drink and make sure the boy wouldn't go into shock. Lestrade stood close to the boy, writing into his note book, every useful information that could be important later. He also writes down everything that could help to identify the boy.
He looks down to the boy as he pulled weakly at his shirt. Lowering himself to the boy´s height, he smiled a bit, not too much but enough to encourage the boy to say what he needs. "Yes, sunshine?" The boy didn't speak but he pointed at the note book and Lestrade gave it to him. Wondering what the small boy wants, he looks upside down on the paper to see it. Before he could read it, the note book was given back to him. It says 'Sherlock' in beautiful letters. He had never seen a child write like that. The handwriting was beautiful.
"Is this your name?" Lestrade asks, what else could it be? The boy nods ones. He gave the name to his colleague that someone would find his parents to stay by the boy, sensing that he starts to trusts him and he wouldn't risk that trust.
The name was rare, rare enough to find the boy´s family very easy. After the paramedic says Sherlock was fit for the journey, Lestrade put him into an unmarked police car and they drove to Sherlock´s home address. He had to close the seat belt, because Sherlock didn't do it on his own. He was too busy to hold onto Lestrade´s uniform jacket but after explaining that he could keep it the seat belt was close and they were on the road.
Lestrade´s colleagues had called the family and as they stop the car in front of old, majestic looking mansion, the parents were already waiting at the door. He gets out of the car and walked around to open the door for Sherlock, but the child wasn't moving.
"Sunshine? We are home, look over there are you parents waiting for you." Pointing to the front door, Sherlock looked at Lestrade and not at his family. He looked a bit disappointed and a bit angry as if bringing him back to his family was a bad thing.
Lestrade pulled out his card of a pocket, the one with his private number and address added to his work number. "Here is my number, when you need something or you don't feel safe call me. I will help you." He puts the card into the child´s hand and nods encouraging. Sherlock closes his small fingers around the card, gets out of the car and holds out his arms to get lifted again, a wish that Lestrade fulfill gladly.
Sherlock´s parents are waiting (patiently?) for them to walk over to the front door. As Lestrade stands in front of them he sets down the child and introduces himself. Sherlock keeps holding his hand; he doesn't even look at his parents.
Suddenly Sherlock´s shouted name came traveled out of the door as another child, maybe twelve came outside, breathing heavy and still in his pajama. Sherlock let go of Lestrade´s hand, turns around and jumps into the open arms of his brother. Still without making a noise Sherlock cried silently into his brother's shirt.
"Thank you for bringing him home." Said the older brother politely, fixing Lestrade with his eyes and then leaving them at the door. His parents and Lestrade left behind the brother had brought Sherlock inside the house. Sherlock´s face hidden for the world holding on to his brother, disappears.
After the case was closed, the boy never talked about what happened, Lestrade didn't think too hard about the two children and the cold parents. Because it would just eat him up. He saw why the boy didn't want to get out of the car; he saw that only the older brother showed real happiness that Sherlock was back. But he could do nothing about it. So he didn't think… best to stop thinking at all.
"No." Mycroft said with iron coldness. "I´m not leaving Sherlock."
"Son, there is nothing to discussed, you will go to that school." His father said, not even locking at his oldest child, still having his head into the economy part of the Sunday paper.
"Darling, your father and I want only your best and this is the best school in the country. Everyone who wants that their child becomes something great sends their children to that school, like we want you to go there." His mother told him looking at him at least but without any affection.
Mycroft was angry, not only angry he was furious. His parents want to send him away and let Sherlock here with them. It´s only three months since he was brought home from that police man. His little brother hadn't talked the whole time, slept in his bed to not have nightmares or better fewer nightmares, he needs a light to calm down enough to even go asleep but even within the dreams there was no sound his brother made. Two doctors confirmed that Sherlock was able to talk physical but because of the trauma he couldn't do it. The children psychologist hadn't achieved anything until now. There was no way he would let his brother alone in this house without love.
"Mycroft." His father put the newspaper on the dinner table. "We are your parents, we say what is happening until you are old enough to decide it by yourself and that will be when you are an adult. Until then you do what we tell you. That means you go to this school. End of discussion.
Defeated Mycroft let his head fall and looks at his plaid. He hadn't eaten much, more than Sherlock next to him who hadn't touch his food but this wasn't good for him. He was still too thin and hadn´t got back the weight he had lost while being captured.
Later the evening, both of them in Mycroft´s bed he hold his little brother close, if he needn't to be the strong one he would cry. Cry because the world was unfair to them.
"Sorry Sherlock, I promised to stay with you but they don't let me. I hate to be a child. I want to grow up fast so we can both go away from here." Sherlock´s little hands hold on tight to his pajama shirt, as they suddenly let go of it, Mycroft looks down and sees something in his brother´s eyes what he hadn't expect; hope.
Sherlock gets up and walks over to the corner where he had place a few of his things. The jacket of the police officer that brought him home was one of the items that laid there. Coming back he holds a card into his hand. Mycroft takes it and reads a name, home address and private number. Not the normal business card of a police officer.
"You want him to help us?" Sherlock nods once. "You know he is a police officer, if we run away and go to him he has to bring us home. He would commit a crime when he hides us." Sherlock shakes his head. Mycroft has to smile. His brother was the best when you have to choose which person will help you and which one will betray you.
"Good then let's go." Packing a few clothes, their favorite things like Sherlock´s pirate book, a bit of food and water and all money they could find. Without getting caught the two boys made their way to London, capital of Great Britain.
Lestrade was a light sleeper, many noises wake him and since he worked for the police it got worse. First he thought that he had imagine the knocking sound on the front door but as it appears again after a few seconds he got up, put his dressing grown on and walked to the door. His gun lays save in his hand behind his back.
Arriving at the door it knocked again. "Who is there?" he asks through the locked door.
"Someone who needs your help." Lestrade had looked at his watch, it was after three in the morning and this was the voice of a child. Hiding his gun he opens the door. In the dark he needed a few second to recognize the boys, but at his front door in the middle of the night was Sherlock´s big brother (still doesn't know his name) with the small and sleeping Sherlock on his back.
Without hesitation Lestrade stepped out of his door and takes the sleeping child before the brother collapse under the weight and hushed the boy inside. The older one looked dead tired but was also very focused at his brother as if to control that he hold him correct but even with the adult behavior the boy had shown the two times Lestrade saw him he was still a child, a very tired child with a dispread mission.
"My brother told me you would help us." Very serious spoken but a bit unsteady on his feet tries the brother to get on with the reason he came for.
"I have a small guest room with a bed, how about you both have a good night sleep and we talk about all the important things later. And yes your brother is right, I will help you with whatever it is you two need help with. I won´t tell anyone that you two are here and I guess no one will look her anyway. But everything else can wait until later."
Good that he has the Monday off. He has no excuse for not coming into work except hiding two children that run away from home. Not sure why he does it in the first place but Sherlock is not the only one that had a look on his face that screams for help.
The older brother was very cooperative. He takes of his shoes and the ones of his brother get rid of his coat and climes into the bed holding the blanked up so Lestrade can lay down Sherlock next to him.
"Good night you two." He whispers at the door but the older brother was already asleep. Leaving and enter the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee Lestrade think about his new situation for the rest of the night.
Late in the morning was the first sound heard out of the guest room. A crawling out of bed and tiptoed steps to the kitchen. Then there was standing in the morning sunlight five year old Sherlock, smiling half sleeping up at him. It made Lestrade smile too.
"How about breakfast sunshine." Lestrade didn't know why he preferred to call Sherlock 'sunshine' but the boy didn't mind. It was probable because it was the first he called him. In that cellar, in the darkness.
Sherlock just shacks his head for a no. "You don't even know what I can offer, right?" The boy just looked at him. "We could make something together and then surprise you brother with it. He was very tired as you two came yesterday. He must have carried you a long way." Sherlock´s eyes get a bit sad. "We can make him pancakes." Happy nodding came. "Alright, then let´s begin." He lifts the boy to the worktop next to the sink, he gets a big bowl and they start.
Mycroft woke up to a laugh of a man, a laugh he didn't know. He was in a room he doesn't recognize and Sherlock was missing. He gets up and follows the noise to a kitchen. Sherlock and the policeman, no Lestrade were busy making breakfast and it looks like both had their fun. Not that Sherlock would laugh out loud but he smiled and was in a good mood.
Mycroft had missed that smile, his brother only smiles close to him, rarely and not once since coming back. Okay, Mycroft had to admit that they hadn't many opportunities to laugh at home. A thing that was sad itself.
"Good morning Mr. Lestrade." Mycroft got the attention of the two people in the kitchen. Sherlock jumped happy down from the work top and into his arms. Lestrade turned around.
"Good morning to you too. I think hiding two runaways gives us the right to switch to the first name base, please call me Greg. And speaking of first names, what´s yours?" It hid Mycroft that he had never introduce himself, not the day Sherlock was brought home or the night before as he had ask for shelter. One of the most important rules of politeness.
"It´s Mycroft, Mycroft Holmes." A shy smile finds its way to his lips. This man was amazing, he find a way to make Sherlock happy, he was good with him. Sherlock was right again. He is so much better in understanding people.
"Breakfast is ready, Sherlock and I made pancakes and you can set the table if you think you will manage." Challenge accepted he thinks as Lestrade winked at him and starts to search the kitchen for plates, forks and knifes while Sherlock puts the pancakes on the table and Lestrade brings cups and milk for them to drink. A minute later was all set and they sat down. With a pancake on each plate they begun to eat and to Mycroft´s endless amazement Sherlock did start to eat too.
After they had all finished, filled up with the warm and sweet food was the time to talk. But first had Mycroft to tell Les.. Greg something important. Sherlock was a bit restless; he jumped up from the table and walked over into the living-room to the bookshelf.
"How did you make him help you making food or more important how did you get him to eat?" Lestrade looked at him surprised. "Easy. I asked him to help me making a delicious breakfast for you."
"But Sherlock hates breakfast. He wouldn't eat unless you force him to. But whatever you do. Thank you. We don't get often the affection children are supposed to get." Mycroft was more honest than he had intended to but he knows he can trust that man and why couldn't he just tell the truth once in his life.
Hearing that, Lestrade realized the children, that came out of a rich home had grown up without love. Without the feeling of being safe. To grow up for the age of twelve Mycroft needed as much love as Sherlock. Both needed a place where they will want to go. But first he needed to know what coursed the sudden runaway of the two boys.
"Mycroft, can you tell me why you two run away? I mean the exact reason why you two choose to come to me last night." The second sentence was placed fast after Lestrade saw the face Mycroft did. Mistrust and a second later resignation, the only place where he could hope for help was here with him. Meaning he had to talk and more important trust him.
"Our parents want to send me away to bordering school. Not that I would complain about the chance to leave them but I don't want to leave Sherlock and especially not alone with them. They don't love us. We are only their trained toys to be the perfect little children. They hadn't even tried to help Sherlock as he was kidnapped. They didn't pay the ransom, they betrayed him. Parents are supposed to protect their children but they didn't safe Sherlock. He hadn't spoken a word since you brought him back. We can understand each other's without words. We always had our little secret ways to communicate but they don't understand him. They don't help him and how should he tell them when something is wrong or he needs something without them listening to his way of speaking. I won´t leave him. I would prefer to live on the streets and eat rubbish if I would be with Sherlock. To your information that was my first plan. Run away and hide on the street but Sherlock gave me your card and told me you would help us so please. I´m bagging you, please help us." While Mycroft told their story Sherlock was still in the living room sorting through the book and Lestrade sat in front of a child that behaved more adult like then many he met. Lestrade needs to find a way to help them because the casual mention of living on the street was also a threat that if he couldn't help them they would run away again. And he was sure with bright minds like theirs they could manage it.
"Maybe I don't know what we can do but I know someone who can help us figure it out." He smiled at Mycroft to tell him without words that he would do what was needed. Lestrade got a nod from the boy and he takes out his phone to call someone who still owes him a favor. The person on the other and answered after a second.
"Hey Greg, it's a long time since you called." The voice from a young woman was now present in the kitchen because Lestrade had the phone on speaker so Mycroft and Sherlock if he isn't too busy with the books could listen to the conversation.
"Yeah, sorry Molly. I was a bit preoccupied. But listen I have a question for you." He waits. "Shout." Was the answer in her always sunny mood.
"Let´s say, theoretical I have two children with me that run away from home." Lestrade could hear the sigh on the other end. Yes she knew it was not theoretical. "And let´s say they can´t go back because they would get separated. They have a home and living parents but the parents doesn't treat them probably. They not getting hit or something like that it´s more the absent of love that is missing for the children. Oh and let's assume one of the boy got kidnapped once months ago and the parents didn't help him." He run out of information, sighing himself he ended his babbling. "What could I do to help them?"
There was a long break before the answer came. "I guess you would have to bring the children to a social serves and let them handle it. Maybe to someone you know to make sure that the children are listen to and that a proper investigation is made." Another break. "I have time after lunch. See you."
"Thanks Molly." Lestrade could say before she ended the call. Taking his phone back into his pocket he turns to Mycroft. "Guess we will do that. She is a friend from school; she will help us and not call the cops for me kidnapping two children." A truth that could still happen.
Mycroft was sacrificed about the development of the situation. The woman sounded nice and if she would lei they would figure it out. But as long as Sherlock and him could stay together he would talk to her an to every person needed to get their wish fulfilled.
"How about you have a look in the living and check on Sherlock, not sure what he is doing. While I clean up the table and then we go and visit Molly." He nods, thanks to their late or better early appeared it was already noon. So they had their appointment really soon.
As Mycroft enters the living room he already knew what to expect. His little brother had again sorted a bookshelf. He hoped Greg had no particular order for his books. Every few days Sherlock would rearrange the bookshelf in his room. Some orders were easy to follow like author names or topic but following the date of appearance or the numbers of words was a bit more difficult so spot.
Sherlock set on the bottom, finishing his last change and smile proudly at him. "Sherlock, we have an appointment with one of Greg´s friends who can help us." His brother nods stands up and walks back into the guest room. The same second Greg enters the room and eyed the books.
"Looks like I have a rainbow from now on in my living room." That was right, Sherlock change the order of the books following the color of the rainbow. Mycroft smiled too. Greg wasn't angry, he also recognizes what Sherlock did and he was okay with it.
Sherlock came back, shoes on his feet and holding his jacket, ready to go.
"Guess we are ready to go. We will have to take the subway." Greg looked down on them. Sherlock looks excited and Mycroft also very interested. "So, am I right, none of you ever used the subway?" He got two children nodding. "You will be surprised."
And they were, even before they entered the underground, but not by transport, no by Sherlock. He holds Mycroft´s hand like usually but took Greg´s as well as right after he had locked the front door and without hesitation were the policeman´s big hands closed around Sherlock´s little one.
The way to the underground station wasn't far and as they walked down the stairs many people walked with them or in the other direction. Mycroft heard a growling noise from Greg and looked at him.
"Forgot how crowed it can be around noon. Don't let go of my hand." He speaks to them but after they got nearly separated by a group of students Greg picked Sherlock up in his arms and keeps Mycroft as close as possible.
In the train itself the trio was pushed into a corner, what was good. Lestrade shielded them with his body. Mycroft in the corner between the walls and Greg´s body and Sherlock in his arms next to Mycroft, both save, close together, without getting lost and not in direct contact with the other people. Because Sherlock got a bit nervous, now that he could look at all that people.
The ride was short and together with the majority of the passenger they left the train and the underground behind. Still in Lestrade´s arms Sherlock looked everywhere but didn't demand to let down.
They enter the building where Greg´s friend works. With every step moved Mycroft closer to his brother and Greg. A movement that doesn't stay unnoticed by the policeman, he lays his arms protective around Mycroft´s shoulder to lead him in the right direction. Both children react very positive to touch as if they hadn't got much. To Greg´s horror he realized it was probably true. No hugs or kisses from parents, he had two touch starved children close to him. Even with the rare touches he had used they grow closer every second. He, a stranger, had shown the boys more affection then their own parents.
Greg knocked at Molly´s door and a polite `enter please` what he and the two children did. There were two chairs, Mycroft sits on one and Greg on the other one after he had hugged Molly and gave her a kiss on her cheeks. Sherlock save in his arms and now on his lap.
The conversation was … Greg would say, good. He guessed. Molly listened patiently as Mycroft told her why they couldn't stay at their parents any longer, why they run away and why they decided to go to Greg for help. He told her about their home, their absent behavior of their parents and the incident with Sherlock´s kidnapping and his inability to talk since then. Sherlock waited on Greg´s lap and listened to his brother´s words. As Mycroft had finished he and Sherlock fix Molly with their soul-reading eyes and to Greg´s surprise she didn't shy away.
"I guess you two have no relevant you want to live with, right?" She asks right away. She must have notice the adult like behavior Mycroft shows while listening to his story. As Mycroft and Sherlock shakes their head together without thinking Molly sighs.
But before she could say something else Sherlock moved, he jumped down from Greg´s lap, goes over to his brother, pulls his sleeve and pointed with his other hand at Greg, Mycroft looking into his brother´s eyes seen to understand the meaning and looks up.
"We want to live with Greg." With endless surprise Greg looked at the two boys that he had known for less than a day. Molly looked at Greg and the children and wasn't surprised at all. The easiness with that the two are around him was evidence enough but how should she manage it to make Greg their guardian. She had seen many children that where abused in one or the other way and after listening to them she understand with all her heart how they feel and what they need.
"If you want us." Mycroft continued and looking a bit insecure up from his chair to Greg. Greg needed a moment to understand the words spoken by Mycroft. He hadn't thought about children in a while. As he had lived with his mother she had asks him sometimes if he was interested to start a family with his current girl-friends but since he worked for the NSY he was focus on his carrier. Not a bad thing but with a sudden realization he wants the two children. He really wants them to stay with him. To make them happy to save them and protect, all he did as a policeman for strangers. He wants to be their guardian and he would do everything for the chance to be their family.
Lestrade looked from the Mycroft and Sherlock who had already read his mind (there was no other word for what they do) to Molly. "What do we have to do to make that happen?" Molly smiled proud at him.
After they left Molly that day they couldn't go home, they had to go to someone who monitored the children and Greg had to get his background check done. Many things were done by Molly without their knowledge like informing the parents but Greg was too busy with his new job as a single parent.
Molly had given him an address in Baker Street where they have to go. Mrs. Hudson, a friendly old Lady opened the door, let them in and showed them their room. Sherlock and Mycroft stayed together, of couse. And after bagging Greg got the room next to them. So he could stay close too.
Until the custody battle is done they couldn't stay at his house but Mrs. Hudson was a good and understanding host. Especially the children got a bit spoilt. A thing Greg would never stop.
The only thing that worried him doing their stay was the silence from Sherlock. Yes he was happy, eats and was open to everything they did. Was it a walk in the park or shopping with Mrs. Hudson but he never said a word.
One evening as Greg came back from his shift, the boys were already in bed he sat down with Mrs. Hudson. The only comfort she could give him was that Sherlock would start talking again when he felt safe again. !00 % safe and she wouldn't expect it to happen before they hat the whole custody thing was over and the two were Greg´s.
In the end it wasn't that hard to get the guardianship for Sherlock and Mycroft. Their parents fought of course but as it changes into a public event of children rights and parenthood they gave them up very quickly. Lestrade had wish that they had fought a bit harder just so he could pretend that they loved their children a bit. But it was better that way. Maybe he wasn't able to tell his, yes his children that their parents loved them even when they hadn't shown it but he can love them, he shows them every day how much he loves his unexpected parenthood with his two little children.
It had taken three long months until they could call themselves a family. They had stayed the whole time with Mrs. Hudson at Baker Street and as the day of the trial arrived she offered them the flat upstairs. What they accept happily.
Now on their way home their felt lighter than ever before. They wouldn't be separated, Greg had already found a good school close to Baker Street and the school had also a primary section for Sherlock in the following year. Sherlock was holding his hand again, something the boy did as soon as they walk outside as if he was afraid to get lost and he liked the feeling of this small hand looking for safety.
Sherlock jumped up the stairs to the front door and knocked. Mrs. Hudson already waiting for them opened just a second later. After a look in three happy faces she smile too and starts to cry while she hugged Sherlock, then Mycroft and at last Greg.
"Welcome home my boys." She was as happy as they are.
"We are back." An unknown voice for two people spoke behind Mrs. Hudson, the voice of a child. She and Greg looking back at the front door where Mycroft already is hugging his brother in tears. Sherlock had spoken.
She was right, when Sherlock felt safe again in his life he would start to talk again. With his children (one crying, the other one being hold by said brother) they were invited to tea and cake in Mrs. Hudson´s kitchen. The beginning of a not so boring life for all of them, happily waiting for the first night in their new home as a family.