Hello and welcome back, everyone :) Thank you all so much for everything, the only reason this story is still here because of you! :') Ok, mixed feelings in this chapter, but I hope you won't be disappointed with where I take it…

"Sherlock"

No…that can't be. He was here a moment ago…and so was that teddy bear. I know I saw him. Sherlock span around on the spot, searching hastily for the little boy and his teddy bear. There was no evidence of the little boy whatsoever.

"Sherlock"

He was here. I saw him. He had a breathing problem, he was coughing. He spoke to me. Sherlock clutched at his head as he shook himself. Who the hell was he? I didn't imagine him I couldn't have. He was here as clear as-

"SHERLOCK!"

Sherlock jerked, his eyes snapping open immediately. He noticed his mother standing over him, staring down at him with her hands on her hips. She looked furious.

"Ah, finally awake are you?" Sherlock blinked rapidly, not even daring to look at the seat next to him, fully aware as to what he'd find. "I just thought you'd like to know, they're-"

"Feeding my son, if I'd be so kind as to join my fiancée. Yes, mother…I'm on my way…"

Daphne blinked in confusion as Sherlock raced upstairs, furiously shaking his head. Ok, it was just a dream. Sherlock tried to still his heavily shaking form as he reached the room, pushing it open and cautiously stepping inside. Doctors bustled around the room but Molly, who had been gazing dreamily at the sleeping baby, looked around and narrowed her eyes when she noticed him.

"Are you alright? You're…white as a sheet…"

Sherlock gave a false smile and waved his hand dismissively, approaching her slowly as the doctor leaned into the tank. Molly winced as he inserted tubes and pipes into the small infant, instructing them he isn't strong enough to eat on his own yet. They were using their own formula and the tiny baby tried to squirm, finding he was too small to do so. Sherlock swallowed as he saw the little boy, wishing he could go through the pain instead.

For a long time they watched their son, smiling and supporting each other as they went through this. When John pushed the door silently open he found Molly had fallen asleep in her wheelchair, leaning against the tank and Sherlock was speaking softly to the glass of the warm tank. John stood in the doorway, listening to his friend's words to the newborn; he had been intending to return home with Mary, but just couldn't leave his friend like this.

"…then, your Uncle John and his friend were kidnapped by the same Chinese acrobats. They had mistaken him for me…" the infant gave a small sigh, "I know…morons. I'd never allow myself to get into that situation in the first place…" John rolled his eyes but found himself smiling nonetheless, "…then, they had an ancient Chinese acrobatic device they were going to kill your Uncle with. Daddy cracked the code – words in the same book owned by the same smugglers – and saved your Uncle…they still got away, though…"

Sherlock couldn't keep his voice from cracking towards the end of his sentence. The room fell silent once more and, after a moment, there was the sound of very quiet whimpering. Sherlock gave a short chuckle, followed by a sniff.

"Hang on…I'll exhaust all my stories otherwise…"

John was on the verge of tears, himself, when he approached his friend. Sherlock turned away as John neared, hiding his expression from the doctor. John, however, leaned into the tank, his voice surprisingly steady.

"Don't worry…he's got loads of them. You're going to have some interesting bedtime stories, mate."

Sherlock didn't say anything; he simply lifted his head from his arms and gazed down at his son once more. John saw the love in the detective's eyes as he spoke.

"He's perfect…John."

"He sure is."

There was a few moment of silence until Sherlock gave a loud sigh as the doors were pushed open again and Mycroft shuffled inside, looking uncharacteristically unsettled. That's odd, it must be important. It had better be important. John frowned as Sherlock turned to face his brother and Mycroft cleared his throat.

"Sherlock…I understand this is a bad time…but I need to talk to you. Alone."

John had been about to retaliate when Sherlock got to his feet, rolling his eyes at John before joining Mycroft in the hall. It was better to indulge his brother when he was in this mood. Sherlock folded his arms as he waited for Mycroft to speak; he had been expecting an apology but what actually came out of his mouth was far more shocking.

"Sherlock…it's about Daddy…he managed to get hold of a phone…"

Sherlock clenched his fists at the mere mention of him and Mycroft swallowed, holding out a piece of paper with a number scrawled across. Sherlock narrowed his eyes. How could he even think I'd call him?

"You mean you gave him one." Mycroft's silence told him everything he needed to know. Sherlock gave an angry yell and buried his face in his hands. Mycroft looked petrified. "Why now? I have enough to deal with. I refuse to talk to him…I have nothing to say…are you forgetting what he did to us, Mycroft? What he did to mother? Mycroft…you have to believe me…he's a monster…I remember…I…always remember…"

Mycroft was shaking with the urge to keep the memory repressed and shook his head, causing Sherlock to curse under his breath.

"He's not well, Sherlock-"

"You got that right." Sherlock folded his arms in irritation as Mycroft continued, ignoring his brother's interruption.

"He's been…transferred…he's getting treatment, now. Just talk to him, get peace of mind. He has plenty to say to you." Sherlock scowled, pacing up and down in front of his brother.

"Did you tell him about my…" Mycroft glanced at the floor and Sherlock gave a harsh chuckle, "…of course you did…"

Mycroft was still holding the number as Sherlock debated whether or not to call. I owe it to myself to find out what he has to say. Sherlock snatched the number and marched towards the Hospital's own phone, intending to end this before it even starts. He spent most of the time standing in front of the phone, looking intently at the numbers and taking deep breaths. Just do it, he can't hurt you here. Sherlock punched the numbers in, already feeling his anger rising; he was thankful there was hardly anyone around. The phone wasn't ringing for long when the harsh voice answered. He'd been waiting for me.

"Ah…Sherlock? How are you?" Sherlock's grip on the phone increased considerably and he swallowed thickly.

"Henry." Henry Holmes laughed manically, his cruel voice almost a whisper at the end of the phone.

"Now, now…son. It's because of me you are who you are today, you can at least call me Dad after all you've done to me…"

"I have never known evil like I have in you." Sherlock had practically snarled at his father who simply laughed.

"Me? Sherlock, it's because of you, I'm in here and not with my family. I want something from you." Sherlock was close to pulling the phone of the wall when his father continued. "I wanted to wish you luck with parenthood. You should be a better father than I was. Then again-"

"I'll strive to be! For one thing, I won't beat my children or attempt to rape my wife!" Henry laughed again and Sherlock felt sick. A monster. The living description of the word.

"Now, Sherlock…that didn't happen. You were only six and obsessed with those detective stories. You wanted one of your own. It was all in the head of a very twisted little boy. All I wanted was two normal sons…instead I got two mentally twisted and emotionally crippled boys…" Sherlock span around on the spot, shaking his head furiously. I didn't make it up! I saw it with my own eyes.

"No…I-I was the only one who knew. You had mother scared to death and…and Mycroft was so traumatised he…blocked the whole memory as though it never happened. Just how you wanted it…" he heard the evil man giggle softly and his fist connected with the wall sharply as he lowered his voice to a deadly hiss, "…but not me. I was six years old, yes…but because of who I am, I cannot forget. Don't you dare make the mistake of forgetting who I am. The world's most observant person…I will never forget what you put us through. I am only sorry it took me so long to finally get you for good…"

Sherlock could feel the blood collecting on his knuckles but he heard his father's voice drop and an icy chill ran down his back, just like it had done all those years ago. He heard his father's laugh like he had done back then. Sherlock wished he could forget, like Mycroft but it would never be that easy.

"You shouldn't lie, Sherlock…you made it up. I didn't touch your mother or Mycroft. I don't know what happened to you…but you're the damaged one. You should be in here instead of me…" Sherlock shook his head as he flexed his hand painfully, gritting his teeth.

"I'll never forget my first major case at Scotland Yard. I received the details from the delightful Inspector that aided me with your eventual arrest," he heard his father grumble, "…a body of a young woman was found in an alleyway, basic observation proved death by strangulation. This…woman was a known prostitute. It didn't take me long piece the rest together." Henry's harsh mocking laughter was filling his ears again and Sherlock hated the very sound.

"I didn't kill her, Sherlock. I am wrongly imprisoned. You've always punished me. It's not my fault the way you turned out." Sherlock swallowed and attempted to not let the man's words affect him.

"No…no, you were a special client of hers and you murdered her when she threatened to expose you. You threw a psychotic, violent rage and got yourself sentenced in a psychiatric hospital. I know…" Henry completely lost his temper and his voice was deathly quiet.

"Sherlock…that. Is. A. Lie. You know I didn't kill her. My mental health is perfectly fine…you wanted to get me so badly, you didn't care how or what for. I am not evil. You've always punished me for being unlike you…you are the damaged one. You made all this up in your twisted little mind…"

"I…" Sherlock's mouth was hanging open as he was forced to listen to the things he had heard every single day throughout his childhood.

"I am disgusted to have a son who'd stoop so low as to frame their own father…your mother and brother believes in me. Not the freak…the freak who makes everyone uncomfortable. You think you'll be a better father than me?" Laughter…ear-splitting laughter and an anguished snarl, "someone who makes things up to get a result? At least I was there for my children, you won't stick around. You'll get bored. Always bored…you were. Mikey sent me a picture of your little whore too-"

"I swear to you-" Sherlock's fingers were drumming angrily against the receiver as he listened to this evil being. I cannot believe this man is responsible for co-creating Mycroft and I. I am not like him…that happened. It did. His father was speaking again.

"You think you deserve what you have? I'm guessing you started shagging this woman before asking her out? That's you all over…no common decency. You even knocked her up before proposing…"

"Shut up. All I ever wanted was your acceptance. Any other father would be…proud, I think, to have a son who could do what I do. Why do you…hate me?" Henry gave a loud cough before speaking threateningly to his youngest son, ignoring his pleading words and cracking voice.

"So modest…I'll get my revenge one way or another soon, Sherlock. You…your pretty whore and your bastard son…I'll get my revenge."

The phone was cut off and Sherlock slammed the phone back down, breathing heavily. He leant his back against the wall and slid down to the ground, his eyes threatening to spill the water that had gathered. Not very well, indeed, Mycroft. I'm determined to get to the bottom of this. Why doesn't he like us? Sherlock paid no attention to the threat, his father was in a secure hospital and he wasn't getting out.

After only a moment, he got to his feet and marched back into the room, his voice and legs shaky. John and Daphne had left Molly alone with the baby and Sherlock gently closed the door behind him; Molly was now awake, gazing down at her son. She turned to face him with a smile before a look of terror replaced it at Sherlock's wobbly state but he cut off her question.

"Elijah…you are right. That's…his name. It suits him."

Molly bit her lip. Something bad has happened. Sherlock approached her slowly and gently tapped the tank, not wanting to wake the sleeping baby. He had a pained expression on his face and Molly took his hand in hers, noticing his fiercely bleeding knuckles and out of place bones. Molly raised her eyes to meet his watery ones, horror etched in her expression.

"Sh-sherlock…what happened?"

Molly was shocked when he pulled her into a hug, burying himself into her neck and breathing in her scent. Molly swallowed and held him tightly, letting him pour his emotions out in the gesture. Sherlock moved away and swallowed; he needed her. So much so…he told her everything he could remember about his father. Molly listened for what felt like hours as Sherlock told her stories of, in Molly's opinion, the world's worst father. She could see the fear as Sherlock recalled the time he had been beaten for experimenting in his bedroom, constantly being called a freak for not taking an interest in sports or 'something normal' – Molly had the urge to punch Donovan in that moment. She could see the pain and emotion that he expressed when telling her of the time he finally arrested him for murder. Molly listened with a lump in her throat as Sherlock explained how a boy of six was forced to hear things he didn't fully understand and how his brother was almost mute as a teen. Daphne had been too terrified of her own husband to speak out and Mycroft had spent as much time away from home as possible, taking his little brother wherever he could. It hadn't lasted long; Mycroft had to leave for college and University. After countless, heart-wrenching stories of infidelity, abuse and deceit Molly was in tears.

"Oh, Sherlock…I am so…sorry you…had to go…through that…alone…" Sherlock shrugged and bowed his head, tapping his foot irritably. After a moment, Molly spoke again, "…I hope you don't believe him. You're not damaged. You're brilliant. No one else would have guessed all that at six…you don't have to worry about him now. Elijah and I…we'll look after you."

Sherlock gave a small smile and wandered over to her, placing a kiss to her forehead and squeezing her hand.

"I am so…relieved to have that off my chest finally. It felt…good to tell you. I had been concerned you'd leave if I told you sooner. Do you…still want to marry me?" Molly gave a small giggle and pulled him down to her lips in a gentle kiss.

"Of course. Nothing is going to stop me from marrying you. Not even you." Sherlock gave a wide smile and snuggled into her, giving her all of his thanks.

"I'll never treat you like that, Molly…I've never treated anyone like that…" Molly nodded against him, running her hands soothingly through his hair and whispering everything but nothing to him as he relaxed against her.

The rest of the week passed by just as slowly with Sherlock and Molly waiting by Elijah's side the entire time and visitors coming in every now and again; every time the door opened Sherlock would quickly turn to see who it was, his heart racing before he felt Molly's soothing grip on his hand. Mrs. Hudson managed to drop by at the beginning of the week, bringing with her several large teddy bears and balloons. It was the middle of the week when things finally started looking up for the couple and little Elijah. Their doctor smiled brightly as he entered; John and Daphne made hasty exits, wishing them luck as they left. As the door swung shut, the doctor moved over to the tank and gazed down with a wide smile before looking up.

"I have some wonderful news. We believe Elijah is strong enough to breathe on his own, now. He has shown immense improvement, much faster than is expected this early on," Molly was shaking with happiness and Sherlock had to sit down to stop his legs shaking, "right, shall we see?"

Sherlock had to look away as the doctor consulted the monitor and leaned into the tank. Molly took his hand as he heard Elijah make uncomfortable sounds before attempting to cry. After a moment, the doctor gave a small chuckle.

"Ah…there's a good boy. Wonderful…excuse me a moment, I'll just fetch some assistance and then you can hold your son."

"What?"

Sherlock hadn't been prepared for this. He glanced down at the tiny child again and bit his lip. No…I can't hold him. He's too…small. I don't want to hurt him. Molly was apparently thinking the same thing for she whimpered and gazed down at the infant.

"Sherlock, I'm-"

"Me too," Sherlock swallowed and leaned over her shoulder, gazing down just as Elijah managed to turn slowly towards them, fluttering his tiny eyelids open. Molly gasped and threw her hand to her mouth, Sherlock leaned against her softly. Damn. The baby simply stared at his astounded parents, waving his tiny fists as much as he could in excitement.

"I knew it…he's going to get his own way now…"

The sound of a clearing throat behind them wasn't enough to make them turn their heads so, instead, Daphne and John cautiously approached the tank. They gazed in and gasped also, their mouths hanging open. They had been informed they were allowed to hold Elijah and had wanted to be around for it. The doctors returned and happily removed the lid of the tank, carefully wrapping the baby in several blankets. He wriggled slightly and the doctor gently handed him to Molly, delighting in her excited giggle. Over her shoulder, Sherlock found himself stroking his son's soft black hair before placing a gently kiss to his skin. The baby gave a soft gurgle and Molly sniffed happily. He was light as a feather and Molly could definitely see herself and Sherlock in his features. He's going to have my height. I hope so, I don't want him to overtake me. Oh, he's gorgeous…he's like his dad. I can tell. Sherlock shook his head.

"No…he's like you." Molly looked into his eyes, about to ask how he did that but she realised she had been stroking Elijah's cheeks softly. After a while, Molly turned to Sherlock biting her lip.

"Your turn, Daddy…" Sherlock folded his arms across his chest tightly, shaking his head.

"Molly, I can't…I'll-"

"Sherlock…it'll be alright. I promise."

Sherlock swallowed and gently received the baby, immediately regretting refusing in the first place. Wow, they're Molly's eyes. Sherlock felt the little boy's eyes burning into his deep blue, mesmerised. Sherlock, too, was hypnotised by the beauty of such a small person. He held him softly, placing gentle kisses to his nose and forehead every now and again. It was ages when Sherlock finally surrendered to his mother's pleas and handed him over, hurrying to Molly's side and beaming from ear to ear.

"We're going to be alright."

Molly nodded, beaming brightly and pleased the events of last week were a horrific nightmare; it wasn't even affecting them anymore. She would always be there for him. Today had been the best day of their lives and it was only going to get better, she was sure. All that mattered now was their son's full recovery and their wonderful life together…

I just had to end this chapter happily after the meanness I put poor Sherlock through :') I hope you liked that chapter and please let me know what you thought, always interested ;) Thank you all so much, you are the reason I keep writing so just to know you like it and are reading is the best feeling ever. xx Thank you so much :) Stay tuned, back soon xx