Hey y'all!
Hope you're enjoying the story. Sorry for the delay though, had some work.
I do not own Sherlock.
This work was treacherous.
Martha felt like exploding from this jumble of emotions, most prominently anger and worry, both directed at the boys. Though most of the anger was directed at Mycroft Holmes.
As it turned out, every sibling of Sherlock was extremely stupid except for him. Sherlock had told her what happened. That was one of the first things he did when he came back from Sherrinford.
He looked shaken, worse than he had been when he was using. Sunken cheeks, and wet eyes. And his hands shook when he was picking cookies off the plate. Sherlock looked so guilty as he apologised for blowing up the house. Martha forgave him. After all, it wasn't his fault. As irresponsible as he seemed, he always took the responsibility when it mattered. Like it mattered when he found out what her husband was doing to her. When she lost her son. He was human, even though he tried not to be.
And when Sherlock told her about what his sister did, Mrs. Hudson was horrified. Poor Sherlock, he'd've been better off without her. And she almost killed Doctor Watson! Sherlock's first love! If Sherlock was broken now, the loss of John would destroy him.
Even though both of them denied it, Martha thought so. They were each other's universes, and while she didn't know what kind of love it was, it was there in abundance. She remembered what had become of Sherlock when John left. She shuddered even thinking of it.
It was the evening of the experiment.
As soon as Sherlock got off the helicopter, he got to Baker Street. It was still in tatters. Sherlock rushes in, and kissed Martha on the forehead.
"Are you alright, Mrs. Hudson?"
Of course she was. Sherlock knew she was. But then why was he looking into her eyes with so much earnestness, waiting for her answer?
She realised that he wasn't asking about her body, but her feelings.
"Of course I am, Sherlock. Would you like some tea?"
"If you insist," he said "Though I've come to apologise"
Sherlock wasn't ever this kind.
"What for? There's nothing to apologise for, simply some explanations required." Martha said, "I'll go get the tea"
After settling down on the table with some cookies and tea, Sherlock cleared his throat and began.
"I'm so sorry for all the damage I—"
"What's wrong, dearie?"
Sherlock never apologised. He had done that only once, when her son passed away even when Sherlock tried his best to keep him alive. Not after being dead for two years. Not even after almost overdosing himself.
Sherlock put his hands in his head.
"Sherlock?"
Nothing. So Mrs. Hudson decided to go over to him and give him a hug, and Sherlock eagerly complied, wrapping his arms around her.
"Everything's wrong, Mrs. Hudson, everything."
He said as he looked up to her. His eyes were shining.
So Mrs. Hudson stayed that way, for a while, and after what seemed like hours, he collected himself and told her what had happened.
It was the next day that she saw John, and she couldn't help being angry, since all her sympathy was used up. The did ruin her house, after all. They should all be glad that her car in the garage wasn't damaged.
But since even John seemed clearly shaken, so she just made an angry face, gave them some tea, and left them to their work.
Later that day, when both of them had left, there was a visitor.
A fat middle aged woman with a 10-year-old child, who Martha recognised as the page boy from John's wedding, came around looking for Sherlock. Said that the boy wanted to see Sherlock, and thought they would just make a surprise visit.
They clearly looked rich, but the lady had an awful fashion taste. So Martha told them that Sherlock was staying at John's place, and that they should go see them in the morning.
They were just relatives visiting, but Martha had a feeling that there was much more behind it.