Well this chapter ended up much bigger than I thought, so I split it into two. Yay, you get two chapters! :D

Thank you for all the wonderful feedback, you guys are the best. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 2

Sherlock stood in the center of his burned-out home and surveyed the damage. The walls were blackened, the floor littered with various refuse that used to be books and bric-a-brac from the mantel or bookcases, overturned furniture.

Despite the incredible danger she'd placed them in, it was quite obvious that Eurus had convinced someone (Sherlock privately thought Moriarty) to reduce the amount of explosives in the patience grenade. While the front room and part of the kitchen had taken the most damage, the back bedrooms had emerged relatively unscathed. The windows were broken out of course, but the walls and floor had retained their integrity. On the surface, it looked like his home had been destroyed. But once they swept away the ashes there would be a solid foundation on which to rebuild. A small mercy from his sister, though perhaps she had never really intended to kill him. Only get his attention and she had certainly done that.

He could hear the soft murmur of voices downstairs, so it was no surprise to him when John materialized in the doorway and joined him. It took less than five seconds for them to reach an unspoken agreement and get to work. When John came up with the headphones and turned his way, Sherlock was already holding the bison skull. John placed the headphones on it and tossed the cord over it, then moved to pick up the human skull that had been relocated in the blast. It was by the doorway to the stairs. John picked it up and held it for a moment, his face very serious. He opened his mouth to ask about Victor and Eurus, but then thought better of it. Sherlock had already righted his overturned chair and was looking out the window, still absently holding the bison skull cradled in one arm.

They were interrupted by Mrs. Hudson ascending the stairs with Rosie. She already had a damp cloth and some rubber gloves in one hand, Rosie straddling her hip.

"Look, Rosie here's daddy." She handed John his daughter and headed straight for the chair Sherlock had just righted. "Oh good, it's not that bad. Still in good shape. We just need to clean off the soot." She got busy doing just that. True to form, both men stood and watched her. She was just finishing up when a voice called from below.

"Hello?"

"Up here!" Mrs. Hudson rushed to the door, waving in three men wearing coveralls and holding brooms. "They're going to help clean up this mess so we can get it back to rights."

"Ah, excellent!" Sherlock promptly plopped into the newly cleaned chair and pulled out his phone. John shook his head, smiling, and headed into the kitchen.

Sherlock opened his texts. The last one from Mycroft was on the top.

ONCE MORE INTO THE FRAY? WHAT ON EARTH IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN? –MH

Sherlock smiled, inwardly laughing as he texted back.

I THOUGHT YOU WERE THE SMART ONE. FIGURE IT OUT. ALSO, I WILL NEED THE HELICOPTER TO SHERRINFORD TOMORROW AND TWICE A WEEK FROM NOW ON. –SH

OUR PARENTS ARE ALREADY ASKING ME WHEN YOU WILL ASK THEM FOR A VISIT. -MH

Sherlock's smile became that much smugger. BETTER YOU THAN ME. TELL THEM PATIENCE. I WILL BE IN TOUCH. –SH

When it came, he could practically hear his brother's resigned reply.

FINE… -MH

"Hey, um, Molly?"

"Oh, hi Greg." Molly looked up from a mound of paperwork she was working on. She frowned at the black bag he was holding. "What's that?"

Greg threw a quick look over his shoulder and stepped further into the lab. "I was hoping you could be the one to identify these remains. We want to keep it out of the papers as much as possible."

"Remains?" Molly gave the bag a closer look. It was half the size of a typical body bag and didn't look very full. "Doesn't seem to be very much, does it?" She took the bag from his hands and looked at the tag. "Request to cross check with dental records of Victor Trevor." She looked at the bag again. "Is this a child?" She didn't like doing children, it was disturbing.

"Yeah," Greg's face was serious. "Victor Trevor has been missing for years, and we're pretty sure John found his remains the night before last. We had to empty the well to make sure we got everything and we want a positive ID if possible before we tell his parents."

"John found—wasn't the night before last when Sherlock's sister tried to kill him?" Greg nodded. "So, what, he just happened to find the body of a missing child? That's lucky."

Greg was already shaking his head. "Victor Trevor was Sherlock's best friend when he was a kid. Eurus pushed him down a well. I don't have all the details, but yeah, that's why we were hoping to keep this quiet and that's not just me talking, it's Mycroft too."

"Sherlock's best friend was murdered?" Molly's mouth was open in horror. "He's never mentioned that before."

"Yeah, well, he never mentions anything, does he? But I think this was something even he'd forgot he knew. Or something like that…" Greg stopped talking, looking discomfited. "Anyway, do you think you could?"

Molly nodded. "Yeah, of course."

"Thanks, Molly." Greg headed out.

Molly placed the bag on the nearest empty exam table and carefully unzipped it. Her hands trembled slightly as she removed bone after bone, placing each one gingerly on the table. She left the skull for last, but it didn't help. When she removed it and held its small size in both hands, she could feel the tears already burning. Sherlock's best friend had died when they were young? The skull was so small…

The last thing she pulled from the bag was a cracked, water-damaged wooden sword.

"Damn it..."

She continued to choke out curses as she pulled her phone out of her lab coat and pushed one of the numbers she had set to auto dial.

"Damn bloody Sherlock Holmes…"

He was like a drug for her.

John had left Mrs. Hudson to fuss over the state of Sherlock's things and was downstairs with Rosie when his phone rang. He bounced Rosie on his knee and answered with his free hand.

"Hello."

"What happened to you and Sherlock the other night?" It was Molly, and she didn't sound happy.

"I told you, the other morning…"

"You said a lot of things that didn't make sense, and then I get the bones of Sherlock's childhood friend." John winced, groaning internally. Molly continued. "You didn't tell me anything about this."

John squirmed in his chair, bouncing his daughter even faster. "It's not my place to talk about Sherlock's family and his past." As always, an emotional conflict was difficult for him to talk about. He could practically feel Mary somewhere laughing at him.

"God, I wish Mary was still here."

The words, an eerie echo of what he was already thinking, rang in John's ear. It shocked him into tense stillness. He had to swallow and clear his throat before he replied. "Why's that then?"

"Because she would actually tell me what's going on! This is my life too. It's me getting bomb threats and phone calls!"

"Yes, but there wasn't any bomb, I told you that—"

But Molly was showing no signs of listening. "This is a big deal. Has he started on the drugs yet? I bet he has. I can't keep on trying to put him together!"

John sat stock still under the onslaught, staring at Rosie. Even the baby seemed to be sensing the tension.

"Every time something happens to you two I get left holding the bag, trying to put the pieces together. And now I'm holding the bag of Sherlock's dead childhood friend and I'm sure he's not taking it well. He doesn't take anything well anymore." Her voice was rising with every word. Rosie began to fuss lightly. "I'm not doing it anymore, John! Do you hear me?" Her voice broke a little. "I…can't keep doing it…not when he knows—"

Not when he knows I love him. The unspoken words hung in the sudden silence between them.

John swallowed again. Oh God… He looked at the ceiling and gave it real thought before he spoke.

"Okay, you're right. You should be told what's going on. I'm sorry, I just have a hard time with this stuff." He shifted Rosie to a more comfortable position and rubbed her back which seemed to soothe her. Molly was silent on the phone. John steadied himself with a breath. "Sherlock didn't remember his own sister. He'd blocked her out and rewritten his memories. He remembered Victor as his dog. Eurus put us through hell and when Sherlock finally solved the riddle and figured out she was lost and alone he was there to comfort her and convinced her to tell him where I was. He's been through a lot." He lowered his voice. "But I don't see any signs of drug use yet."

"Okay," Molly's voice was quiet "well that's good then."

"Yeah…yeah it is." John kissed the top of Rosie's head. He didn't like to think how close he'd come to making her an orphan.

There was a moment of silence before Molly spoke again. "John, I'm sorry about what I said…I didn't mean to—"

"It's all right Molly, really. Don't worry about it." I still miss her too.

Molly's apologetic tone didn't lessen. "Is there a way I can make it up to you? Maybe take Rosie for a few hours tonight?"

John's mouth was open to refuse when a sudden thought struck. "Yeah, um yeah, that would be great. But I'll be at 221B can you come by there?"

If he hadn't known there would be silence after that request he'd have thought she'd hung up him. He waited, putting off an air that he had no idea how much he was asking of her.

"Um, I don't—"

Sensing a refusal, he cut her off. "Please Molly, I know Rosie would love to see her other godmum. Mary was so happy to ask you…" he deliberately left the words hanging. He winced at himself, knowing he was laying it on a bit thick. John wasn't used to managing people. That was more Mary's department. It seemed he was filling in for her in more ways than he'd realized.

There was a muffled sigh over the phone. "All right. I get off at five."

John grinned conspiratorially at Rosie. The baby smiled back, blowing bubbles. "Great! Thanks Molly, really appreciate it. See you then."

"Okay. Bye." Molly's confused tone indicated she wasn't quite sure how she had got to this point.

John pocketed his phone and stood up, raising his daughter high in the air with both hands before lowering her to kiss her cheek. "Ah, Rosie my love, your mum is still teaching me things." He turned to the fridge. "Let's see what Mrs. Hudson has for tea."

That evening at five John made sure he was planted in 221B with Rosie and her diaper bag. He'd been prepared to invent some kind of excuse for Sherlock to be present as well, but it turned out he didn't have to. Once he casually mentioned that Molly was coming by to pick up Rosie in about an hour Sherlock suddenly abandoned his plan to go out for chips and decided it was better to sift through one of the piles of charred books to see if there were any worth salvaging. John had to slink back into the kitchen to hide his incredibly wide grin. Once it was under control John noticed a distinct odor coming from Rosie. That brought another smile.

"Sherlock, bring the diaper bag in, will you?" Sherlock appeared momentarily with the requested item, and John traded Rosie for the bag.

There was a moment of confused silence while each waited for the other.

"Well?" John was giving Sherlock a very expectant look. Sherlock just looked confused.

"Well, what?"

John nodded at the baby in Sherlock's arms. Sherlock's jaw dropped.

"No."

"I think it's time you learned how to change one of these."

"I really don't think that's my area." Sherlock made to return the child to her father, but John's arms didn't move to receive her.

"It's time to make it your area. You are godfather, you have certain responsibilities to fulfill—"

"No one ever asked me before!"

"That's because Mary took care of most of it." That bald statement was followed by an uncomfortable silence.

"So you're saying that in order to honor my friend, I must learn to change her child's stinky diapers?" Sherlock only looked half outraged by now.

John nodded. "That's what I'm saying."

Sherlock struggled with that thought for a moment before conceding. "Okay, fine." He laid Rosie on the kitchen table.

"You're supposed to put the mat under her, so you don't contaminate the area if it gets messy."

"Oh please, this table has seen much worse."

"Okay, now I want you to use the mat to protect Rosie from God knows what."

"It's fine! She's fine. Right, Rosie?" Sherlock made brief eye contact with the baby as he unsnapped her romper. She was already kicking her legs, cooing at him. "Now I'll have you know this is as uncomfortable for me as it is for you, but we'll just have to get through it. Thankfully you'll forget this by the age of three, which is a great mercy since otherwise I'd never be able to look you in the eyes again."

"Sherlock for God's sake…" John had already unpacked the necessary items and was holding a clean diaper and the wipes. Sherlock undid the fasteners and opened the diaper. He instantly recoiled.

"How can something so small…"

"—create something so big? Believe me, I've been asking that since she was born." John handed Sherlock a wipe.

"The stench is overpowering…"

"That's a laugh considering I regularly open this refrigerator and smell rotting thumbs."

"That is for science, John. I don't see how I could possibly gain any scientific knowledge from this." Sherlock was making faces as he wiped.

"No, no, front to back. Always wipe front to back."

"Perhaps there is some kind of training class I could attend…a youtube video…"

"Just keep going, for God's sake you're almost done."

"How do you…?"

"Hold her feet. No, she's not a chicken, like this."

"I'm beginning to think this is worse torture than Eurus' little experiments."

"Ah well, this is one you get to endure again and again. Lucky for you and Rosie."

"There." Sherlock had finally managed to trade the dirty diaper for the clean one and breathed a sigh of relief. John looked at him, incredulous.

"You're not done yet you need to fasten it."

"I know I just needed a bit of a breather. Rosie, you may never in your life doubt the depths of my affection for you or your parents. Never."

"Don't listen to him Rosie, you need to give him some gray hairs along the way."

"Finally!" Sherlock fastened the last tab and stood up straight. "Please tell me that's the last one for a few days."

John was about to happily disabuse Sherlock of that particular notion when there was a knock on the door frame of the entry to the kitchen. Both men looked up as if caught doing something criminal.

Molly stood in the doorway, and while neither could be sure how long she had been there both were reasonably sure it was long enough because she was fighting laughter and chewing on her lower lip.

"Sorry, the door was open…" Her voice was full of held in laughter, until her eyes met Sherlock's gaze. Then her eyes skittered over Sherlock and landed on Rosie. Sherlock noted it and suddenly found the floor very interesting.

John was quickly putting the baby's clothes back in order. "No worries, Molly, Just making sure Rosie is clean and ready for you." He picked up the baby and handed her back to Sherlock. "Here Sherlock, take her to Molly while I get her bag packed up again." John fought a grin as he shoved diapers, wipes, and the unused mat back into it.

Sherlock slowly moved around the table toward Molly, who shifted nervously as he drew closer. She wasn't laughing anymore. He smiled briefly at her before placing Rosie in her arms and then stepped back. Molly smiled down at Rosie before lifting her eyes reluctantly to focus on the man who had just handed her over.

Sherlock was gazing at both of them, small smile remaining on his lips. Molly hesitantly returned it. She accepted the bag from John, who had come around the other side of the table and, after giving Rosie a brief kiss, melted into the background.

Molly cleared her throat. "Just…uh…doing John a favor." Her smile was getting more and more awkward the longer she delayed leaving. Memories of their last phone call were seeping back. She could still hear her own voice breaking over the phone. It's always been true… God, she felt humiliated. Even finding out about Victor Trevor couldn't make that go away.

Sherlock was nodding. "Of course, of course. That's what a good godmother does." He gave her a sincere and much bigger smile, trying to put her at ease. Unfortunately, it didn't mask his suddenly flushed face.

Molly was looking at her watch even though she knew full well what time it was. "Well, better get going." Molly looked past Sherlock to John, who quickly closed his open hanging mouth. "Eight-thirty?"

John nodded. "Yes. I'll come get her. Thanks, Molly."

"Sure. Bye." Molly shifted Rosie and turned to leave, taking one last look at Sherlock before she headed down the stairs.

Sherlock didn't move an inch as they listened to them descend the stairs. It was only after the faint sound of the front door closing echoed up to them that John, who had up until then been staring at his best friend with his mouth open again, finally spoke.

"Oh my God…."

Sherlock exhaled through bared teeth. "Shut up John…"

John shifted back and forth, undecided on how far to push it. "Wow. I knew you were friends but all this time I thought it was Irene Adler you were pining for."

"Shut. Up. John."

"But this, wow. Eurus figured you out before I did. I feel so blind."

"Surely that's not an unusual feeling for you?" Sherlock stalked into the burned out living room and threw himself into his chair.

John followed slowly, stopping by his own freshly steam cleaned chair. Mrs. Hudson would sleep well tonight. He looked at Sherlock and noted how different this was from the time The Woman had texted him on his birthday. Then, Sherlock had been if anything embarrassed to admit he had emotions at all, much less ties to a woman even if it was only through text. But this was different. Sherlock actually looked like he was in pain. In fact, he looked closer to the way he had after Eurus' experimental phone call than he had at any time since. Private emotions and thoughts laid bare for all to see. Or mock. John's humor in the situation slid away.

Vivisection, indeed.

John picked up his coat. "Let's go."

"Go where?" Sherlock was looking up at him like a sullen child.

"I have a few hours free. We're going to see Greg. Maybe he has something good for you to solve, even if it's an easy one. Better than sitting around in your shambles of a flat all night."

There was a beat of silence as Sherlock considered it. Then he rushed from his chair to fetch his coat.

LOL I admit I had way too much fun imagining Rosie's diaper change! Great fun. No Eurus conversation this time, but another one is coming soon. Next chapter should be up shortly. Thanks for reading! :)