Small Steps

Chapter 14

Sherlock remained at Molly's bedside until visiting hours ended at eight that evening, he tried to threaten the nurses with Mycroft's pull, but they ignored him. It was finally Molly that persuaded him to go, pointing out how tired Ben was.

Molly had been asleep for a lot of the afternoon, dozing off not long after Dr Fletcher, who was also pleased with her progress, visited. However Sherlock was content just staying there, pleased that Molly now could wake up. It was infinitely better than waiting there without a clue of when she would wake.

Sherlock hesitated before leaving, Molly had already hugged both of them, but Sherlock couldn't help thinking of all of the other times he had left her bedside; each time he had kissed her forehead. This time she was awake, and for some reason that changed things. He had been holding her hand since she had woken, but it still seemed to be awkward now.

Ignoring his worries Sherlock leant down and whispered in her ear as he pressed his lips to her forehead. "Get better Molly." He stood again. "We'll be back first thing tomorrow." With that he left, leaving Molly with a puzzled expression.

Molly was confused, but strangely satisfied. Initially, she had not questioned that Sherlock had been holding her hand for the last few hours. However after that strange encounter she thought back on the entire afternoon; ever since she had woken Sherlock had been acting strangely. Originally she had thought it had had something to do with John's presence, obviously having to tell your best friend you weren't really dead would be stressful, but Sherlock's behaviour had not changed after John left.

When she had woken, alone in the night, she had hoped that Sherlock would offer to look after Ben and it seemed her wish had been granted. She had been amazed by how good Sherlock was with her son. It warmed her heart that they had managed so well, that they had developed such a strong relationship already. Molly had been worried that Ben had no male figures in his life, and although she would never have pictured Sherlock as a role model, she could now sort of see him as one. He had definitely become a permanent fixture in her son's life.

It was with the image of the three of them as a small, if slightly dysfunctional, family fixed in her mind, that she drifted off to sleep.

The evening back at Molly's flat began as if it was any other night, but again Ben quickly noticed the lack of Molly's presence and became tetchy and upset. A couple of hours passed and Sherlock had still not managed to comfort him, finally Sherlock grabbed the baby bag, and with Ben held to his chest, he left the flat.

Sherlock quickly hailed a cab and made his way to his old home. As always, the door to 221b was not locked. Sherlock didn't even consider trying to enter quietly as Ben was still screaming. Instead he strode up the stairs and threw the door open with a bang.

After entering the living room, he resumed the pacing he had begun at Molly's, in an apparently futile attempt to calm Ben. It was not long before two more figures burst into the room. John was only dressed in pyjama bottoms and was accompanied by a brunette woman wearing only a man's shirt, a shirt Sherlock immediately recognised as John's.

"Sherlock." John said, his voice loud so he could be heard over Ben's screams. "Why are you here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Sherlock asked. "I can't get Ben to stop crying, it's been hours. I need some help."

John was surprised to hear his friend asking for help, it was so unlike the Sherlock he had known, but then he had already realised how much his friend had changed. Because of this pause, it was his companion that stepped forwards and spoke before he could reply.

"Hello I'm..." She began before Sherlock interrupted.

"You're Mary Morstan." Sherlock finished. "You are also a junior paediatrician at St Bart's and have a passion for crime dramas, one of the many things that drew you to John."

"And you, of course are Sherlock Holmes, thought to have committed suicide when outed as a fake. However as you are alive now, the latter statement must be false. Only a genius, with sociopathic tendencies, would have been able to fake his own death in such a way and get away with it without a hint of doubt." Mary took a step towards Ben and Sherlock. "And, you are a cutie." She said to Ben, who's sobs had started to stop as he focused on the woman in front of him. "May I?" She asked Sherlock, her arms out to take Ben from him.

Wordlessly Sherlock handed her the toddler. Mary quickly held a palm to Ben's forehead.

"He's got a temperature." She stated simply, but quickly clarified when she saw the look on Sherlock's face. "It's only minor, probably from being overtired. I'll go get him some Calpol, I have some in my bag." Mary left the room, Ben still in her arms.

Sherlock just stared after them, still shocked. John tried to restrain himself, but failed, and burst out laughing.

"You're face if a picture." He said to Sherlock when he finished laughing.

"She... She's..." Sherlock managed to say, still stuck for proper words. "What just happened?" He was finally able to ask.

"You just met my girlfriend." John said, a wide smile still on his face.

"She's certainly different." Sherlock said. "I think you might finally have found someone suitable."

"I'm glad you agree." Mary said from John's doorway. "I happen to quite like your ex-roommate."

"Where's Ben?" Sherlock, a hint of worry colouring his voice.

"He's sleeping. Calpol always works wonders, but I think he'll probably wake up if you try to take him home."

"Have you changed my room?" Sherlock asked John.

"Nope." John replied. "I couldn't bring myself to even go in there."

"In that case we will stay in there." Sherlock made to move towards John's room. " If that's alright?" He added as an afterthought.

"Of course, Mycroft's still been paying your half of the rent, so it's still your room."

"Thank you." Sherlock said earnestly to both of them. He quickly retrieved Ben from John's room and gently moved him to his own, carefully surrounding him with cushions so the toddler couldn't roll off the bed. After making sure Ben was comfortable and still asleep, Sherlock returned to the living room where only John remained.

"Mary's gone back to bed, she has work tomorrow morning." John explained. "We should talk."

"We talked at the hospital." Sherlock said defensively.

"Well you disappeared for five months, I have more than a few questions." John retorted quickly.

Sherlock huffed and sank into his old chair. "Ask away." He thought he had covered all the possible important questions in his explanation earlier that day.

"Fine, firstly; what is going on between you and Molly." John asked.

"Nothing. We are only room-mates, just like you and I were." Sherlock said, not wanting to try to explain the complex things he was currently feeling with regards to Molly. He just needed some more time alone in his mind palace to sort through them.

"Don't lie to me Sherlock." John said firmly. "Our relationship was nothing like the one you and Molly have now. Talk to me about it, it will help."

Sherlock paused debating what to do, he knew John would not persevere with his questions if he cut him off now, but some part of him wanted to discuss it with John. It was almost like they were on a case.

"I'm not sure." Sherlock said while staring at his lap. "I know I care for her and Ben, I feel at home with them, but I don't know what that means." With that he fell back into silence, his chin now supported by his arched fingers.

"I think you do Sherlock." John said quietly as he left the room, leaving his friend deep in thought.