Chapter Two: Not a day goes by

Months later,

I was bored to death. I now see how Sherlock had gotten a thrill out of shooting holes in the wall. The idea was very tempting to me right now. I was moved into a private suite in the hospital, given maximum security while waiting for my body to recover. The gunman was shot dead in the courtroom. There were no obvious connections, but I suspected he was one of Moriarty's men, wanting revenge. And what better revenge to get me for smearing his boss's name than killing me in my moment of triumph?

In the hospital, I spent most of my time learning Sherlock's phone and I'd become an expert at it. Like the man, his phone was complicated; all sorts of files hidden within special places. I found voice recordings as well, some were recorded during our honeymoon. He recorded every letter that he ever read to me.

Once I was allowed to be discharged, Mycroft had me flown out to the Holmes house. It had maximum security and its location was completely confidential to the media. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes tried to keep me happy, but I wasn't in the mood to be consoled.

I tried to keep busy so I could keep my mind off Sherlock, but of course, that wasn't to be. Not a single day went by that I didn't think of him, for even in death, he was still a major part of my life and he wouldn't go away. That was my fault, because I desperately held onto every little thing of him I could hold onto, mentally and physically. I wanted to let go of him as the months went on for the sake of our baby. I wanted to try to forget him, but I just reaching out for a ghost that wasn't there and dying inside when I realized that he was gone.

Mrs. Holmes was such a sweet woman. She alone seemed to know and understand the depth of my emotions. She climbed into the attic and had all of the family photos and videos brought down for me to view.

Sherlock was an adorable looking baby! I could just imagine him glowering down at me from heaven as we looked at all those baby photos. You could see that he was a troublemaker; he hated having his pictures taken. He always made a face, or rolled his eyes the moment the picture was taken.

The videos were especially lovely to watch. I could see the rivalry between Sherlock and Mycroft growing up. Mycroft was the friendly one, and Sherlock was off in a class by himself. Sherlock, even at the age of ten, was a very, very, serious kid. His room was always a mess; he was always asking questions, obnoxious questions that were a bit much for a parent to handle.

There were several memorable Sherlock incidents. On Mycroft's fifteenth birthday, he was shouting at the camera that Carl Powers had been murdered and they needed to get their faces out of Mycroft's cake and pay attention to him! Needless to say, he was sent to bed without dinner after that incident! He was a confident teenager, even though he was a loner. He didn't have a girlfriend and he hadn't gone to prom because according to him it was an unnecessary thing. One would wake up the following morning and be tortured by memories of a thousand stupid things that one had done the night before.

John evidentially knew the case and Sherlock was able to solve that case many years later. Evidently, Moriarty had murdered Carl Powers and it was odd to see how their history went back so far together.

John was the shoulder I leaned on when I needed comfort or words to share. If I had been alone, I probably wouldn't have had the strength to get up in the morning. We got to know each other better; I hadn't realized how rude I'd been to John. But it seemed like from day 1, Sherlock was the man on my mind, heart and head. John was just the man in the background. He was a really, really, wonderful man. Jane Austen had said that the only way to get a man like Mr. Darcy was to make him up. I think that she would have been impressed enough with John's character to write a book about him. His kind, gentle manner was so refreshing and I actually felt somewhat happy around him, when we weren't talking about Sherlock, which wasn't often.

John and I actually began contacting people, asking for details about how they'd met Sherlock, so we could put the cases together in a book. It was going to be a huge book, but it would definitely grab people's attention. All things considered, who wouldn't want to read about Sherlock Holmes? And it was written by us, the two people who knew him best of all, so it would be honest and truthful.

Mycroft was entertaining. He had a great sense of humor and he always brought me back an occasional little trinket to amuse me. Sometimes it was a box of candy, a puzzle to solve or he'd bring back the details to a case for me and I'd have to solve it. Of course it was all ready solved, but it occupied my mind. There was something wrong between Mycroft and John, but I had yet to figure out what it was.

I was almost full term when John made the grand announcement to me that I was carrying twins. That shocked everyone, but no one was more shocked than I was, but I was overjoyed. Now, I would have two wonderful children to remember Sherlock by. After that, I made an extra effort to maintain a positive attitude all the time. Mrs. Holmes kept buying me bright and fun maternity clothes to wear. Unlike most mothers who couldn't wait for their baby to be born and their figure to go back to normal, I just wanted to see how much our children would look like him.

But things, when you're a Holmes, are never normal. It was November and I was about two and a half weeks away from giving birth when things took a turn. I was on my back, stretched out on the couch, reading 'the book.' And when I mean 'the book' I mean the book of love letters that he'd read to me so often. It had become a habit of mine to read a letter every morning right after I woke up and one right before I went to bed. I had experienced some mild cramping this morning, but John had assured me that it was normal.

I groaned and set the book aside as I tried to stretch out my back. "Stiff?" I sat up to see Mycroft walking in; he was holding a box of Angelo's breadsticks, which ordinarily would have set my cravings in motion, but not today. I hadn't been hungry much today at all.

I nodded. "Yes." I stood up and approached him. "I can't wait to hold the babies."

"Do we know what sex they are yet?"

I shook my head. "John hasn't convinced me into having an ultra sound." Mycroft laughed. "I know, it's silly, but I have a doctor here with me, I'm under close supervision and I don't think it's necessary. I'd like to be surprised. "

I cracked my neck and Mycroft winced. "You are stiff. Turn around." I did as he asked and I felt Mycroft slowly begin to massage my neck. "Goodness, did you sleep on concrete last night?"

I laughed. "Just my bed. It's not so comfortable anymore."

"Yes. Another reason to have the babies, you can get a good night sleep."

"Babies and sleep don't exactly qualify in the same sentence." Mycroft hit a certain spot and I moaned. "Oh, I like that."

He murmured. "I can tell."

I groaned as Mycroft massaged my back. I closed my eyes and let my head loll back slightly. "I like that." I murmur as my mind flashes back to my wedding night. The fingers are firm as they continue massaging my shoulders. "Don't stop. Please." I can see his face before me now. Those eyes, intensely staring deep into my face. A shiver runs down my spine, then, I feel a set of lips on my neck and my body trembles. "Sherlock." His name escapes my mouth before I can stop it. "Sherlock."

The lips pause on my neck and the hands stop. My eyes open and I realize that I am not with Sherlock anymore, I am with Mycroft. I step away, not wanting to look him in the face. Why had he done that? I was Sherlock's wife! Well, his widow! And my husband had been his brother! I'm a few weeks away from bearing his child! And he…he, well, I hadn't helped things any. I bit my lip and looked down at the floor.

"Say something Tammy." Mycroft said quietly. "Anything."

"I-I, I'm sorry." I murmur. "I thought you were….him. Please, excuse me." I turned and walked towards the library door. "So sorry. That…shouldn't have happened, any time."

"Those babies of yours," I paused with my hand on the doorknob. "have you considered what you're going to do when they're born?"

I wouldn't look at him, I had to get out, and I was being smothered. "I don't see why that's any concern of yours. I can take care of them."

"Those children of yours are going to need a father." Something in his tone caused me to stop. "It would be so nice to keep them in the family."

I froze, dead in my tracks as his words sunk in. his tone, had a very, very suggestive note and it wasn't completely lost on me. Sherlock had been upset at Mycroft's advances and his words of warning flooded my ears. I spun around and stared at him. "Are you….proposing to me?"

"Don't act unintelligent Tammy; you take after my brother at times. Of course, I'm proposing to you!"

My mouth dropped open and for the longest time all I could do was shake my head. "Mycroft...I-I can't. I'm sorry. I'm not free of Sherlock, and…I don't want to be, just yet."

"Tammy, you always were a bit dramatic. But think reasonably about this, you were only married to Sherlock for four months." His words slashed me mercilessly. "I know you loved him, but it's not as if you were married to him for ten years." I shook my head and turned aside. I was so surprised that I couldn't think of a single thing to say. "You really should look ahead to the future. I can protect you, your children and we could live a very comfortable life together." I paused, his words actually started to make sense. "You're a very practical person and when you don't talk yourself into mourning for Sherlock, you seem to forget him. You need to think about what you're going to be doing in a year. You have to think about your children." He stepped towards me. "It's a small chance Tammy, but I do believe that I could make you happy if given half a chance."

I couldn't move, I was so stunned, I didn't know what to do. Only when Mycroft touched my face, did I wake up. His hand was cold, like his proposal. "I can't Mycroft. I'm sorry." I whirled around, opened the door and promptly smacked into John.

"Whoa," he said steadying me. "easy Tammy." His eyes narrowed as he took in the emotions of my eyes. "What's wrong?" I jerked my head in Mycroft's direction, not daring to speak for fear I'd start crying. He looked at Mycroft. "What did you do now?"

"Nothing that concerns you." He smoothed his coat. "It was a private discussion."

"You upset her."

"It doesn't concern you." Mycroft repeated. "It was business."

"He…proposed to me." John's eyes flashed he let out a shout as he launched himself at Mycroft! "John!" I gasped as John tackled Mycroft and began punching the daylights out of him!

"You bastard!" He shouted. John dropped a few other words that were so out of character for him that I didn't know what to do!

I stood there in shock before waddling as fast as I could into the hall. Mrs. Holmes was coming. "Tammy? I heard a shout."

"John and Mycroft." I said. "They're fighting!"

Her eyes flashed and she stomped into the room. Both men were still shouting and hitting each other. Well, John was hitting. Mycroft was not a fighter and John had been a soldier. Army doctor, but a soldier nonetheless. "Stop this at once!" She shouted and everyone stopped breathing at the tone of her voice. "Now! Get up and stop acting like animals! Honestly! In front of Tammy?" John yanked his coat into place, giving Mycroft a venomous look. "I don't know what happened to cause the two of you to go off the handle."

"Mycroft," John spat out angrily. "proposed…to Tammy."

Her mouth dropped open. "Mycroft! You didn't!"

"I did." He said as he held his nose back, John had delivered another one of his world famous bloody noses. As near as I could tell, Mycroft had a swelling eye and jaw. John, his face was unscathed except for a scratch. "It was for the best."

"I suppose that's what David said to Bathsheba after killing Uriah!" John shouted. "Have you no shame?!"

I stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't need to know." John said. "This is between Mycroft and I."

I studied both men. David had coveted Bathsheba and had Uriah, sent to the front line of the battle so that he'd be killed. After Uriah had died, he took Bathsheba for himself. But why would John say that? My heart stopped in my chest. No. It couldn't be what John was implying.

"John…did Mycroft….have something to do with Sherlock's death?"

"Not intentionally." Mycroft said.

"Ha!" John laughed bitterly. "Your own brother and you blabbed about his entire life to…Moriarty!"

I gasped and covered my mouth as Mycroft glowered at John. "I told you that I never intended for it to go that far."

My mind was reeling, but it caught up with him. "That's how Kitty knew everything. You told Moriarty?!" I screamed. "How could you!? Your own brother!? You turned him in?!"

Mrs. Holmes grabbed ahold of my shoulders. "Calm down Tammy." but anger resonated in her voice. "What did you do Mycroft?"

"Moriarty was the most dangerous criminal mind the world has ever seen, we interrogated him for weeks, but we couldn't make him talk." He explained calmly. "He wouldn't play along. He just sat there, staring into the darkness. The only thing that made him open up I could get him to talk."

"In return for Sherlock's life story." John spat. "Moriarty wanted Sherlock destroyed, right? So, how do you sell a lie? You wrap it in truth!" He shouted. "You gave him everything!"

"Mycroft!" Mrs. Holmes shouted. "How could you!?"

He genuinely looked sorry, but I wasn't going to forgive him. "You handed Moriarty the ammunition!" I screamed. "It's your fault that Sherlock is dead! Why didn't you just put a bullet through Sherlock's head!? It would have been less painful! You forced him to die! You killed him! After all he did for you!? He gave you Adler's phone on a platter and you repay him by, giving information to his enemy!? I guess no good deed goes unpunished!"

"Tammy, calm down." Mrs. Holmes said firmly. "This isn't good for you."

"I can't calm down!" I screamed. "And you propose to me?! I hate you Mycroft!"

"Your actions earlier indicated otherwise."

"I thought you were Sherlock!" I screamed. "I thought you were him! I thought you were Sherlock! My husband, the love of my life." My words struck a chord with Mycroft and now he actually looked ashamed. "I don't care if I was only married to him for four months. Does that mean that I love him any less?! I love him still!" I shouted. "I loved your brother and nothing in this world would even tempt me to marry you! I'd marry a corpse before I married you!" At that moment, a huge cramp seized me and I screamed as I grasped my stomach. "Oh God!"

Mrs. Holmes gasped. "Your water broke."

"No." I shook my head as John hastened over to me and braced me. "No! I am not having my children here in Mycroft's presence!"

"You don't have a choice Tammy." John said as he guided me to a chair. "You were having pains this morning?" I nodded. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I thought they were normal! I've never had a baby before!"

"Calm down." He said. "Let's get you to your room."

"Sherlock's." I said as they led me out of the library. "I want to be in his room."

"Tammy."

"I want to be in his room!" I shouted. "He's not going to be waiting for me to hold his children. I want to be in his room when I have his babies."

"Ok, Tammy." John soothed. "Just calm down, start your breathing. Mycroft, go to my room, and get my bag, don't touch anything inside it!"

Mycroft took off running up the stairs and we crept towards Sherlock's room slowly. Each pain nearly caused me to double over with each step. Mrs. Holmes helped me into a nightdress while John prepared the bed.

I concentrated on breathing while John examined me. It was extremely embarrassing for me but I was glad it was John instead of a stranger. After the examine, John shook his head. "Tammy, there's no time to get you to a hospital, your pains are too regular. Your babies are going to be born here. Annette," he was talking to Mrs. Holmes. "Tammy is going to need several cold cloths and water bottles. Do you mind asking someone to fetch them?"

"I'll see to it myself!" She said. "Not going to let the servant's handling this! They're incompetent as it is, and these are my grandchildren we're talking about."

I wanted to laugh at her, but I was in too much agony. "This is my fault." I moaned. John gave me a shot of something to dull the pain. "I shouldn't have yelled."

"No. It's Mycroft's." He said firmly as he massaged my back. "He shouldn't have proposed and brought this whole thing into light."

"You knew!" I pointed out. "And you didn't tell me!"

"I was going to tell you, after the baby was born." He said. "But it's been killing me not to tell you."

"I believe you. Oh!" I screamed as another pain hit me hard. "John!"

John held my hand and squeezed it as the pain hit me. "It's ok Tammy, just breathe. I won't leave your side until it's all over. I promise."

"Don't promise me anything!" I shouted. "Promises mean nothing! Sherlock promised he'd never leave me!"

"All right, then I give you my word that I won't leave you." Mycroft came in with John's doctor bag; John took it from him curtly and pointed to the door. "Get out. Now."

Mycroft nodded. "I am sorry about this Tammy."

"Get out of my sight!" I shouted. "I swear, I'll kill you with my bare hands!"

Mrs. Holmes took ahold of Mycroft and pushed him out of the room. "Out! I am going to have a talk with you and so is your father!"

I screamed as another pain hit me and John winced slightly. "Sorry." I said through clenched teeth. "It hurts!"

"You have a low tolerance for pain." John said. "But, do mind your vocal chords, you are a singer, remember?" I nodded and he smiled as he placed a cold cloth on my forehead. "Now, try to relax. And let's bring Sherlock's babies into the world together."