This is a continuation of my finished story After The Fall. Enjoy :)

I lay in my bed listening to the rain tapping lightly against the windows at 221 B Baker Street. Sleep was something I hadn't experienced since the accident. Every time I closed my eyes I relived the day my life was changed forever. One entry wound in my back and my legs were useless. The doctors all said I would never walk again, heck even Sherlock started to doubt my recovery. Very few, five percent, recover enough function to walk, and those require crutches and other assistive devices. I was in that five percent. I could walk with the aid of forearm crutches which were a birthday present from Sherlock and Cassandra. Unfortunately as I began my recovery Mary was unable to deal with my injury and she ran off with another man. I was fortunate to have such good friends to take me in and help me to become myself again, but the truth was I would never be the same. I turned over and watched the sun creep in through the window casting a light onto the floorboards. Another night without sleep. I sighed and got out of bed not wanting to spend another second laying there staring off into space. I quickly grabbed my crutches and made my way out into the living room. If you wanted a good laugh all you had to do was glance at Sherlock who sat at the kitchen table reading a newspaper while his daughter cooed and ate her food with her fingers. It still hadn't quite hit me that Sherlock was a father to a 6 month old baby and every time I saw the two of them it just put a smile on my face.

"Morning." I said as I made my way to the table and sat across from Sherlock while Cass served me a cup of tea. "Should I ask again this morning?" Sherlock didn't even acknowledge me, but he knew what I was getting at. For the past month and a half I asked the same question every morning and received the same reply. "When are you two getting married?"

Sherlock sighed. "Never. I'm married to my work."

"Than what does that make Cass?"

"His mistress." She retorted before kissing Sherlock on the cheek and serving him breakfast.

Sherlock stared down at his food and then glanced over at his daughter who began reaching out for it. He pushed the plate away. "This is mine."

"Sherlock."

"Babies don't eat toast and bacon."

I rolled my eyes and stared at his daughter who by now had gone back to her own food. "Your dad is a total wanker." Sherlock seemed unphased by my comment as he began to pick at his food. Truth was as much as I believed Sherlock wanted to be a good father and as hard as he tried sometimes, it just wasn't in his nature. He was always very cold towards the bright eyed child he had produced during one of he and Cass's many sexual encounters. I watched as she blew raspberries at him almost as if she was trying to get his attention, but his eyes never left his newspaper. The only thing that caught his eye was the sight of Cass grabbing her coat and heading for the door.

He looked over his newspaper with his vibrant blue eyes a quizzical look on his face. "Where are you going?"

Cass grabbed her keys and tucked them into her pocket before returning to us. "I need to go shopping for a bit. Christmas is coming up and I still haven't bought you anything."

"I don't need anything." He retorted.

"Everyone needs something."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. Take the baby with you."

"Actually I'm leaving her here."

Sherlock immediately dropped the newspaper. "Why on earth would you want to leave her with us?"

"Because I need to have some time to myself too you know. You never spend any time with her and when you attempt to you're always thinking about something else. You two should have your time. I don't want Melanie growing up resenting you."

Melanie Holmes was by far one of the most beautiful babies I had ever seen. She had her father's eyes, his strong cheekbones, accompanied by her mother's nose and lips. She was the perfect blend of the two of them and how anyone could ever ignore her I'll never know. Sherlock looked over at her as she began to drool which seemed to annoy him slightly.

"I'll be back in an hour." With those words Cass departed leaving the two of us to babysit or so I thought.

The moment the door slammed shut Sherlock fixated his eyes upon me. "You're babysitting."

"Um….no. She's your daughter."

"She's your god-daughter."

"Yes, but she is not the fruit of my loins therefore she is yours to look after. I don't get it. The moment you found out Cass was pregnant you seemed more than excited and now you want nothing to do with it."

"It's complicated."

"Is it?"

Just then Sherlock's phone rang and he promptly answered it. His face began to light up as the person on the other end continued to speak. He hung up and clinched his fist before joyfully leaping from his chair. "Grab your coat. We have a case."

He raced around the flat trying to get himself dressed. "Sherlock." I yelled out knowing that he had forgotten one very important detail.

"Where's my scarf?" He asked going into his bedroom.

"Sherlock…"

He came back a moment later wrapping his signature blue scarf around his neck. "Why are you still sitting there?" Just then Melanie cooed and Sherlock turned to look at her. "Argh right I forgot about the baby."

"I'll stay here with her you go on."

"No I need you there! I can't work without you! Where's that thing?"

"What thing?"

"That…" He walked into the living room and returned with a bright pink baby carrier attached to him. "Problem solved lets go."

"You're joking right?" From the look on his face he was quite serious. "You…you can't bring your baby to a crime scene!"

"We don't have a choice." He grabbed Melanie from her high chair and struggled to place her legs into the proper holes. "Don't just sit there help me!"

I got up and helped Melanie's legs find their way. I stood back and laughed at the sight that stood before me. I grabbed my cell phone from my pocket and held it up. "Just stand there like that."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm taking a picture to send to Cass. She's going to die when she sees this." I snapped the photo and did as I had said. "Do you realize how much trouble we're going to be in when she finds out?"

He didn't reply back and by the time I turned around he was already downstairs hailing a taxi. The ride there was somewhat of an adventure in itself. At first the cab driver accused us of being "together" and thought it very nice of us to have adopted a baby. Imagine his surprise to find out that we were completely straight and not gay in any sense of the word. The taxi dropped us off at an abandoned Tesco parking lot on the opposite end of the city. Lestrade seemed more than relieved to see us not knowing we had brought something a little extra with us.

"It's about time I called you over an hour ago!" He shouted watching us get out of the vehicle. His groaned upon seeing Melanie strapped to the front of Sherlock sleeping peacefully. "You brought your…baby…to a crime scene."

"She's asleep. Close your mouth Lestrade." Greg did as he was told not realizing he had been gawking. He showed Sherlock to the crime scene and immediately the detective went to work. The crime scene proved to be far less exciting than Sherlock had anticipated. "Suicide. You brought me out here for a suicide."

Lestrade furrowed his eyebrows. "A suicide? This man was clearly murdered the gun was found on the right side of the man's body, the bullet hole making entry at his right temple, everyone we've talked to says he was left handed."

Sherlock groaned at Lestrade's stupidity. "Well they're all wrong. He's both."

"Both? Oh come on he has to be either right or left handed."

"John check his left wrist."

I knelt down beside the body and began to examine it taking in what I saw. "Clear signs of a former break in the wrist, could have happened years ago. Doesn't look like it quite healed properly, but the hand is still usable."

"He's ambidextrous equally adept in the use of both left and right hands. Not by birth, but he had to be. Naturally he's left handed, but his broken wrist forced him to learn to write also with his right hand. He has visible charcoal markings on both the outsides of his hands he's an artist of some sort. It wouldn't have been impossible for him to shoot himself in either the right or left side of his head he would have been comfortable with both. He could have been depressed over his failed marriage for he has a faded tan line around his ring finger meaning he hasn't been wearing it for quite some time. I suggest you speak to the ex-wife. She should be living with his best friend."

Lestrade by now had a headache as he tried to absorb all the information the detective had just given him. "How could you possibly know about his wife?"

Sherlock smiled and showed Greg the man's cell phone. "It's not password protected. You should read some of those messages. Right well…" He went to place the phone in Greg's hand when it went off and a very familiar set of initials flashed across the screen for just a split second.

We're not finished Sherlock.

RB

The moment Sherlock saw this he dropped the phone to the ground his heart falling to his feet. It took him by surprise for these past few months had been rather quiet. He knew Richard Brook would show up sooner or later, but he had just hoped it wouldn't have been so soon. He composed himself and picked up the phone waking Melanie in the process. "Sorry. Well we must be going now." The two of us turned around and retreated back to the taxi. The drive home was a quiet one and I could tell something was bothering him.

"You alright?"

Sherlock kept staring out the window refusing to meet my eyes. "I'm fine."

"You're lying."

"Of course I am. It's nothing you need to concern yourself about."

I opened my mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of my phone going off. I pulled it out and looked at the screen.

You're both in big trouble when you get back.

CW

"Who's that?" Sherlock asked.

"Cass. I have a feeling she knows we took Melanie out." The taxi pulled up to the curb at 221 B Baker Street and the two of us headed upstairs to meet our fate. It was clear from Cass's face that she wasn't happy. I half expected her to let out a slew of curse words that would make my own mother cry.

"I know your work is very important to you, but just please don't do that again."

We stood there and stared at her still waiting for her to start yelling. It took us a few minutes to realize that, that was the extent of our scolding. Sherlock didn't say a word he simply pulled Melanie from her carrier and handed her off to Cass. She looked into his eyes and could see something wasn't quite right.

"What's wrong?"

Sherlock wanted to answer her, but he choked on his words. "Um…it's…it's nothing." He leaned over to kiss Melanie's forehead and I had regained hope that he was capable of being affectionate towards his own child, but he stopped short and retreated back outside. By now my blood was beginning to boil. It killed me to see the hurt in Cass's eyes every time Sherlock fell short in his fatherly duties.

"He's not himself." She said which her excuse was every time.

I didn't bother replying and made my way slowly down the stairs. I stepped outside and found Sherlock leaning against the building a cigarette pursed between his lips. I approached him, raised my right crutch, and brought it down onto his head. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth choking on the smoke he had just inhaled.

"What the hell are you doing John!"

"That's for the cigarette." I raised one of my crutches and hit him again. "And that's for just being a downright insensitive prick."

"When have I been insensitive?"

"You show Melanie not a single ounce of love and I'm sick of it. She's your daughter, your flesh and blood and you treat her like she's some kind of nuisance. Would it kill you to hug her every once in a while?"

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Then please explain it to me. Stop being so mysterious it's downright annoying sometimes."

"It's not that simple for me."

"Don't start that again."

He sighed and I watched his face become somber. Finally he was showing some emotion. "I'm scared John. Scared of losing my child. Do you really think I have no love for my own daughter? I love her more than life itself. I just…I feel like with Brook still being out there it's not ok for me to let myself be so vulnerable. That's what he wants. He wants me to be attached to her so that when he rips her away from me it will hurt like hell just the thought of it makes my stomach burn. About a week after she was born I had this dream that I went into her nursery and looked over into her crib." A tear began to roll down his cheek. "She wasn't there. I looked over and there was Brook holding my child with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. Every night since I have gone into Melanie's room and I simply sit and watch her sleep. Sometimes I get up and place my hand on her back just to make sure she's still breathing. Other nights I hold her in my arms as close to my chest as I can just to feel her warmness next to me. It means she's still there and she's still alive. I'm petrified of losing her. I almost lost Cass I can't even fathom how it will feel when he finally comes back."

I just stood there unable to say a single word. Sherlock was such a secretive person and to hear him spill his emotions so freely was overwhelming. "I'm sorry I didn't know." I then put two and two together. "It was him this afternoon wasn't it? The one who sent the text."

Sherlock threw his cigarette to the pavement and put it out with the heel of his shoe. "I don't want to talk about it." He turned to head back inside, collecting himself as he turned the doorknob. He glanced over at me and I could see the anger in his face. "If he even breathes on my daughter I'll fucking kill him."