Thanks to o0katikins0o for her help on some breastfeeding issues in this chapter. Also thanks to Aphraelsan for her advice on the therapy (she's my Sheila!). MizJoely is the world's best beta, and I'll hear nothing different and MrsMCrieff is a fountain of British knowledge. These women are amazing! Mistakes belong to me, not them.

I've had a weird week. Both my husband and oldest son had ingrown toenail procedures (sort of surgery, I suppose) and my youngest kept getting hurt. He's fine, just an accident waiting to happen. Thank you all for your support. If I didn't respond to your review on the last chapter, I am sorry. I got a bit distracted. Like I said, it's been a weird week. I'll try to be better with this one.

No warnings this time.

I own nothing. Enjoy ~Lil~


- I Told The Truth, I Didn't Come To Fool You -

Sherlock sat in his brother's office reading the final report on the events in Pennsylvania. Molly was, of course, cleared of all charges. Her name didn't even appear on any official documentation. As far as the Americans were concerned 'Mary Carpenter' killed James Moriarty. Handily the criminal mastermind had provided her with a social security number and fake birth certificate- the works. Molly Hooper would never even have to testify in regards to her forced relocation or the killing. Mycroft was a pain in the arse but he did get things done.

There was no organisation this time. Sherlock had done his job thoroughly, well, except for missing the fact that James himself was still alive. The psychopath must have spent the last few years licking his wounds and planning this giant mind-fuck of a move. His goons had happily pointed to the rest of the players in the game for a bit of leniency, which fortunately numbered only a handful. Mycroft's people had rounded them up easily.

"Why, pray tell, did it take over a month to get you in here?" his brother asked.

Sherlock took his time finishing the report, then tossed it onto the chair next to him. "I'm not sure if you remember, Mycroft, but I have a newborn son at home and his mother is quite traumatized. This is what human beings call 'caring'."

Mycroft glared at him. "I care a great deal about Aricin, Sherlock, as well as Molly."

"Yes, but you show it with secret deals and redacted files. My son may appreciate something a bit more personal for a birthday gift, just a thought."

"How is she?"

If he didn't know better, Sherlock would have thought he heard a hint of emotion in his brother's voice. "Better. Healing."

"I assume you're keeping a better eye on your accounts now that you have other people to take care of."

"Of course I am and you know it. You check them more often than I do," Sherlock shot back.

"The trust fund won't last forever, little brother."

Sherlock wanted to laugh. The way he lived (especially compared to Mycroft) it just might. Though he got his brother's point; a family meant much larger expenditures. "I'm still taking cases, Mycroft. And…"

"The Detective Inspector has offered to start paying you as a contracted consultant. I'd take him up on that offer if I were you."

"You and Gilroy spend entirely too much time gossiping," Sherlock said.

Mycroft ignored the remark. "Mummy's demanding a visit. She's been more than patient."

"Indeed. I'm just as shocked as you that she hasn't stormed the gates yet," Sherlock said as he stood up and gathered his coat.

"Ah, Sherlock… about Miss Donleavy?"

"What about her?"

"Don't be obtuse. You know to what I'm referring."

Sherlock gave his brother a blank face stare. He knew exactly what he was getting at, of course, he just wanted to make him say it.

Mycroft sighed. "Fine. Her participation in the acquisition of your… seminal fluids," he said with a cringe.

Sherlock grinned. "That was so worth it."

"You're a child."

He laughed as he walked to the door. Turning he said, "Leave Janine alone. She was being blackmailed and I treated her horribly."

"As you wish," his brother replied.


Living with Molly was both heaven and hell for Sherlock. Though she had improved since their joint therapy session, she wasn't completely back to her old self, by any stretch of the imagination. She wasn't angry with him anymore, but she still didn't seem happy. John's advice kept ringing in his ears and he wondered if he should just tell her how he actually felt about her.

He had told her everything… well, almost everything. He told her the truth about Magnussen and about Mary. After explaining 'pressure points', he explained that he'd avoided her in the months prior to his exile to protect her from the blackmailer's clutches. She didn't ask why she was a pressure point, though he saw the question in her eyes. He went through John and Mary's marital issues and their reconciliation at Christmas, something he'd cleared with the couple beforehand. She had taken the news that her friend had been his shooter better than he'd expected, even making a joke that she'd been tempted once or twice herself. Other than that one moment, Molly was… stoic during their discussion, which took place at the flat after a light lunch at a restaurant near her therapist's office.

Finally he told her how he'd searched for her, how he'd never stopped searching for her. Though he left out how completely broken he'd felt, how lost he was not knowing what had happened to her or what she was going through. He might have been able to share that with her, possibly, if she'd expressed some kind of emotion during the exchange, but she didn't. She never cried. She didn't ask questions. She just listened. In the end she thanked him and said that she had a lot to think about.

If he was expecting a sudden change, he was sorely mistaken. That's not how it happened. Aside from showing less hostility towards him, she was just as closed off as ever. She was still good with their son, though. Perhaps even better than before. When she was holding him, she seemed happy. He coveted those moments; watching Molly and Aricin was always the high point of his day.

Sherlock wasn't a passive observer, he never had been. He researched and researched some more trying to figure out his role in her rehabilitation. Cases continued coming in and he took whatever he could solve from the flat, still not comfortable leaving Molly alone for extended periods of time. Occasionally he sent John out to gather information if Lestrade just had to get Sherlock's input. It wasn't enough and he was getting restless, but the last year had shifted his priorities. He wasn't about to make any more mistakes where Molly Hooper was concerned.

Mrs. Hudson came and went on a regular basis as did the Watsons and Lestrade. Her unpleasant friend Meena stopped by a couple of times, he made himself scarce on those occasions. Sherlock was pleased to note that Molly's persona didn't necessarily change with other people. As he observed her he noticed that she seemed just as reserved with the rest of the group.

The only time she really put on a front was when his parents came for a visit. Mummy had held out as long as she could, giving Molly time to adjust. There was finally a Holmes grandbaby and she needed to hold it! Sherlock watched Molly plaster on a smile and pretend that everything was completely normal. Two hours into the visit he could tell that the act was wearing her down.

"Mummy, it's time for Aricin's nap," he announced.

"Oh, but I don't want to let him go," she complained, then kissed his cheek for the hundredth time. The poor child was going to be chapped!

"Yes, well, he has a schedule…"

"We're in town the whole weekend, Mother. We can come back tomorrow," his father said.

Once they left Sherlock watched the tension melt out of Molly's shoulders. Then she did something completely unexpected. She fed their child in the sitting room… in front of him. He hadn't got to witness the ritual since he'd helped her in the hospital. He knew it was wrong, and he felt horrible for it, but watching the mother of his child release her milk laden breast and feed his son stoked something primal in him.

It was a beautiful sight.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. She was watching Aricin as he drank, his tiny arm waving around aimlessly. It was the most relaxed he'd seen her since she'd returned. She looked radiant and happy. Content. Sherlock suddenly felt his mouth go dry and his heart thud in his chest. She must have forgotten that he was there; it was the only explanation. He wasn't sure if he should make his presence known or just wait for them to finish. Either way she'd be embarrassed. More than anything he wanted to relish the moment, store it in his mind. Molly, his son… him. They were almost a real family, even if she didn't realise it.

As she started to move, presumably to switch breasts, she noticed Sherlock. He was sitting in his chair, trying to be as motionless possible.

She gasped and covered herself. "Why didn't you say something?"

Sometimes the truth just wasn't okay. "Sorry, I was in my mind palace," he lied.

She eyed him suspiciously as their son rooted into her chest, clearly impatient for the second half of his lunch. "I should have done this upstairs. I'm sorry, I..."

"You can do it wherever you like, Molly. It doesn't bother me. I was there the first time you…"

"Yes, I remember, Sherlock. But…" She stood up. "I'll just… he'll be tired when he's finished anyway," she said, then hurried to her room.


"God, Aricin," Molly said to her son once they were safely in their room. "Couldn't you give Mummy some kind of warning or something?"

That was borderline mortifying. But she had been desperate to feed him and completely focused on Aricin from the moment the Holmes' left. All she could think about was getting rid of some of her milk before she started leaking too badly.

She sighed loudly when her son latched on once again.

Sherlock had told her at lunch after the therapy session that he wanted to 'start over', although she wasn't sure how to go about that exactly. She wasn't stupid: she knew that Jim had been feeding her information to further his plans, that didn't mean that it wasn't true. But now that Molly looked at Sherlock's behaviour without the Jim coloured glasses she'd been wearing for the last year, she could see that something had indeed changed. When she thought about how he had acted since his arrival at her house the day she went into labour, she could see that he wasn't the same man he'd been before she'd left. Sherlock Holmes had matured, for lack of a better word. Oh, he was still moody and impatient at times, especially with John or Mrs. Hudson. But when dealing with her or their son, he seemed to be making a real effort.

After lunch they had picked up their son and gone back to Baker Street, where he proceeded to tell her all about the events that had led up to his near exile. He also told her about how he'd tried to find her. He seemed almost desperate. Seeing Sherlock Holmes actually expressing emotion (unrelated to a case) was… strange, to say the least. It caught her off guard. Finally getting the truth- the whole story- did help, but she was still apprehensive. Trusting Sherlock again would be opening up a huge can of worms. Not to mention she still didn't feel like she was completely in charge of herself- like there was something missing. There was a hollowness that she couldn't quite put to words. She had told Sheila about this; the therapist had her working on trying to identify her trauma and guilt- her nightmares. She kept telling Molly that they were making progress, but it didn't feel like it was happening fast enough.

Unfortunately there were these odd moments where she'd catch him just… staring. As she finished feeding Aricin and brought him up to her shoulder to burp, she recalled the look on Sherlock's face when she realised he was in the room with her moments before. He looked incredibly content, peaceful even. She was sure he was lying about being in his mind palace, that he'd been watching her. But why?

There had been moments like this in their past as well. His eyes lingering on her a little longer than altogether necessary, a secret smile that she was almost certain was only for her. She used to obsess over such moments. It got better after his fall and even more so when he came back. He'd spent the day with her and clarified what she meant to him. She was important. She was the one he needed to help him stop Moriarty. They were friends and she mattered, she knew that. And that had been enough, at least until Jim started filling her head full of his 'Sherlock doesn't care' business. But now their relationship was very complicated and she didn't know how to feel.

She simply didn't feel comfortable talking to any of her friends about it. John and Mary were far too close to Sherlock to be able to help her. And Meena wouldn't be helpful. She wasn't Sherlock's biggest fan to start with. Molly decided to wait until she could speak with Sheila again. Maybe she could help her sort things out.


A couple of days before Christmas Molly had gone shopping with Meena. When she got to the top of the stairs she heard the sound of violin music coming from down the hall. She had dropped off Sherlock's gifts at Mrs. Hudson's and only had one other bag, for Aricin, which she left in the sitting room. She was about to go to her room and see if her son was asleep in his crib when the music stopped and she heard Sherlock's voice coming from his bedroom.

She quietly crept down the hall hoping to get to see him alone with the two month old and was delighted to find his door slightly ajar. She couldn't see them, but she could hear Sherlock.

"...not sure if your Uncle John is really the right person to give out advice about relationships, Aricin. He did marry a former CIA trained killer, hiding her identity and running from her past. Though they are a perfect match. So that's a point in his favour."

Molly smiled, thinking he was giving their son relationship advice a bit too early. But it was cute nevertheless.

"My problem is that if I tell your mummy the truth, she really has no reason to believe me, now does she? What am I supposed to say? 'Molly, how was your day? I bought milk and did an experiment. Oh, and I'm in love with, by the way'. Or, 'Aricin needs a feed. Do you still have feelings for me? Because I want to spend the rest of my life with you'." He sighed.

She felt herself get all tingly like she wasn't getting enough air all of a sudden. What the hell is he saying?

"Most of the time I don't even think she wants to be my friend anymore, let alone..."

Molly covered her mouth. His voice sounded so sad.

"I miss her so much, Aricin. She's here, but I still miss her. She's just not her anymore."

She turned and walked back down the hall, not wanting to hear anymore of what was obviously a private moment between the two Holmes men. When she got to the sitting room she was a bit lost. Did she just leave or act like she was coming in and pretend she'd not heard Sherlock admit to… being in love with her. Oh my God. This is not happening, she thought. He loves me but I'm not… me anymore.

She was still standing by the doorway trying to decide what to do when she heard Sherlock say her name. She turned around to see him standing in his dressing gown and sleep pants, holding their son.

"I didn't hear you come in," he said, looking a bit bewildered.

"Ah, I just walked through the door," she lied.

He nodded, seeming to accept her answer. "How was shopping?"

"Good, it was good." She looked at the infant. "Don't go snooping about, young man."

Sherlock laughed. "I think you're safe. Though I'd like to see what you got him just so we don't get him the same thing."

Molly had a sudden idea. "There's still a couple of days. Could we get him some gifts together?"

He looked shocked at first, but then smiled. "That'd be… sure."

"I'll go ask Mrs. Hudson if she'll watch him tomorrow and we can make a day of it." Even she noticed the overly cheerful tone in her voice. She sounded fake- forced.

Sherlock's expression darkened. "We don't have to if you don't want to Molly."

"No… sorry… I do want to, Sherlock. It was my idea."

He nodded, although he still looked doubtful. "Well, I was about to feed him, but now that you're here…"

"Sure, as soon as I get back."

Oh her way down the stairs she remembered his comment about the way Aricin was conceived. It suddenly made a lot more sense.


I know this is a bit of a slow progression. But Molly is healing and I don't want to rush things. Please let me know how I'm doing. Again, I will respond to my reviews this time. Thank you so much. ~Lil~