A/N: Hi guys…sorry I haven't updated in a long time. Honestly, I kind of stopped loving this story after some of the problems with the last few chapters. I still want to finish it, but I just don't feel the same joy I had before when I write. On top of that I've been having some personal problems, so that hasn't helped anything.

I promise I will do my best to finish this story.

WARNINGS: Molly and Sherlock argue over a controversial topic. I'm not advocating for either side in particular, I'm simply showing how important compromise and understanding are in any relationship.

He'd suspected that no argument as a parent could measure up to his and Molly's about how they'd handled Moriarty. Of course, to his surprise they had one about a week later nearly of the same proportion.

"Why would we do something so ridiculous!" Sherlock yelled. "You're a scientist for god's sake. Why would something so pointless matter to you?"

"Because it's tradition in my family," Molly said. "I was raised Catholic, Sherlock. I want my son baptized."

Sherlock sighed and put a hand to his forehead. "It's ridiculous nonsense. Sprinkling magic water on a baby is pointless and superstitious. I thought you were smarter than that. And does this mean you're going to want to raise him filling his head with lies? You want to brainwash our son with nonsense?"

Molly let out a long breath. "No. I will probably let him know my own traditions, but he is free to choose his own. I think there's a good amount of value in having some sort of moral code, but he's free to define that for himself. You're the one who would probably have a fit if he was anything other than atheist."

Sherlock ignored the comment. She was being ridiculous. "You're Catholic? I've never seen you go to church," Sherlock growled, turning to gaze at her suspiciously.

"It's called mass, and no I haven't in a long time. I used to go on Easter and Christmas, but it's been a while."

Sherlock ground his teeth together. "How did I not know this? How did I not see it?"

"I just want him baptized, Sherlock," Molly said. "It's not a lifelong commitment or anything else. I'm not signing him up to become a monk for the rest of his life. I just…I want to follow in my family's footsteps in this respect….I know it's a bit silly but…it's what my parents would have wanted me to do."

"Your parents are dead," Sherlock snapped, and then he winced when he saw Molly's pained expression. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. But it is true. It doesn't matter what they want now."

Molly sighed. "It's just a baptism, Sherlock. You don't even have to be there. I'll do it myself."

"We're not even married, how's the church going to like that?" Sherlock said.

"It's been done before, Sherlock," Molly said.

"Was I baptized?" Alex suddenly broke in, looking up from his book.

Molly turned a pointed look at Sherlock.

"No," Sherlock said. "Rightfully so. Neither of your parents practiced any kind of religion. And since Molly doesn't practice one I don't see why she wants to do this."

Alex stuck out his lower lip. "I want to be baptized too."

Molly put a hand over her eyes, especially as Sherlock rounded on Alex.

"No you do not," he snapped. "You are an intelligent young man and you will not fall for these ridiculous lies that a little water is somehow going to magically transport you to a mythical realm after you die."

Alex continued to pout.

"You can come," Molly said to Alex before rounding on Sherlock. "I'm taking Johann whether you want it or not, Sherlock. I've tried to be reasonable, but you are acting absolutely—" She took a deep breath, obviously searching for the right word, "ridiculous."

"Fine," he snapped. "But don't expect me to come."

"I won't." Molly turned to Alex. "Why don't you help take Johann on a walk with me?"

Alex perked up and put his book aside. "Okay."

"Perhaps Sherlock will have figured out he can't always have his way by the time we return."

"I don't always have my way," Sherlock muttered as they grabbed their coats and scooped Johann out of his playpen wrapping a blanket firmly around him before she walked out. He heard the sound of her pulling the pram out of the hallway and cooing something to Johann before their footsteps went to the hallway.

A few seconds after the front door slammed shut, Sherlock heard footsteps on the stairs. He turned in time to see Mrs. Hudson peering in.

"Is everything all right? I heard shouting?"

"Molly's being ridiculous," Sherlock said with a sigh, sinking into his chair and running a hand over her face.

"Ridiculous about what dear?" Mrs. Hudson said, coming in with a plate of sweets in her hand. Sherlock rolled his eyes, but didn't protest when she set them down on the table next to him before taking a seat.

"Are you religious, Mrs. Hudson?" Sherlock asked, eyeing her cautiously. He wasn't sure if he could trust his judgement on the issue after Molly had proved him wrong.

"Oh…I went to church now and then as a child," Mrs. Hudson said with a smile. "But I've sort of drifted off now. I don't really know what to believe."

"Agnostic then?" Sherlock muttered.

"Perhaps," she said. "What's with the curiosity? Reconsidering your options?"

"I was wondering if you'd sympathize more with Molly or me. She wants Johann to be baptized," Sherlock muttered. "I don't understand the point."

"Oh…well it is sort of traditional," Mrs. Hudson said with a frown. "Just one of those things I suppose for some people."

"Tradition is for the weak minded," Sherlock said. "Those who can't forge their own paths. Molly hardly cares much about any sort of faith."

Mrs. Hudson sighed. "Being with someone is all about compromise, Sherlock. If John taught you anything I thought it would be that."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, not bothering to correct her.

"And Molly…she's given a lot more than you have," Mrs. Hudson said. "Why I think she does value tradition quite a bit, poor dear. She told me once that her whole childhood she'd dreamed a sweet little stereotypical life…cottage with two children and a dog and a cat. A lovely wedding and a husband who would take her out dancing." Mrs. Hudson let out a soft sigh before realizing she'd trailed off.

"Do you have a point?" Sherlock said.

"Oh, don't you see, dear? She's given up all that for you. Living in a little flat in London with a child that isn't hers. You compromised on the baby, of course, but she's never asked you for a wedding or to move elsewhere. She's never asked you to get an actual job so she doesn't have to work or for you to take any more traditional husbandly roles. Even having Johann she agreed to not do a traditional shower or any of the usual fuss women make over their first child."

Sherlock frowned and considered. It was true. The evidence did point to Molly rather disregarding tradition entirely when it came to the two of them.

"She's a lovely girl, Sherlock. And she's given up so much for you. Wouldn't it be nice if you'd give up a little for her?" Mrs. Hudson said. "I know she doesn't want to say anything. But it might be nice if you'd do that, don't you think?"

Sherlock sighed but did eventually give a nod. Perhaps Mrs. Hudson had a point.

"Besides, you could use all the protection you can get for that little boy," Mrs. Hudson said, lines creasing her forehead.

"What shall I buy him a rabbit's foot and surround his cot with various amulets and good luck charms," Sherlock muttered.

Mrs. Hudson shrugged. "Just a thought. You be good to Molly, Sherlock dear. You promise me."

"I will be good to her, Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock said. "Now if you don't mind I have some work to do."

"Oh you behave, Sherlock Holmes," she scolded, even though she did go to the door.

He shook his head and went over to the table to start up work again. There was no point arguing over how to raise their son if they couldn't eliminate the threats to his life.

When Molly came back from the walk she didn't bring up the subject again. Sherlock allowed her to dictate their discussion topics, which mostly ranged from her mentioning the interesting things she'd seen on the walk and what the plans were for dinner.

That evening Sherlock finally decided it was time to relent. Mrs. Hudson did have a few good points. And if Molly could give up a normal traditional life for him, he could occasionally give her a few moments of tradition.

He came into the bedroom to find Molly on the bed nursing Johann. For a moment it felt like something was stuck in his throat. He brushed off the ridiculous feeling and came over to sit on the opposite side. Molly smiled at him and then looked back down at their son's face.

"Someone's hungry tonight," Sherlock remarked.

"Yes, he is indeed," Molly said. "Though I'm certain he'll be up in another few hours wanting more. Little glutton."

"Hmm…"

"Well, at least one good thing came out of this little monster," Molly said.

"And that is?" Sherlock said, wondering what on earth could cause Molly to say there was only one good thing about the child she clearly adored.

"Oh…well…" Molly turned a bit pink. "I thought you might like them a bit better now…since they're…bigger…"

It took him a moment to realize she was referring to her breasts.

"They were always—" He paused and realized she was referring to his prior comments. "Molly…I've said some awful things in the past and I'm…I'm truly sorry. As someone who believes beauty is a social construct, it was hypocritical of me to point out your features that didn't quite match with the preferences of society. You are…quite lovely," he said, unable to keep a smile from showing. "And I find you quite attractive all things considered."

"I find you quite attractive too," Molly said. "Even if your facial proportions aren't exactly normal."

"Touché," he muttered and leaned in to peck her lips. "Molly…I want you to baptize Johann. I know it's important to you."

She pulled away from him and frowned. "All right, what do you want?"

Sherlock's forehead crinkled. "What are you…? Oh. Nothing. I simply…realized I was being a bit stubborn and proceeded to realize I was making a mistake in my quick judgement of the situation. I have reconsidered and decided you baptizing your son does no real harm."

"Our son," Molly corrected, still gazing at him suspiciously. "And what changed your mind?"

"Oh well…I just…thought it might be better if I…" He paused, realizing she was still glaring at him. "Mrs. Hudson might have threatened me to be nice to you."

Molly laughed and shook her head. "Now that makes so much more sense. But still…thank you…it means a lot to me, Sherlock."

"I know it does," Sherlock said. He reached for Molly's hand and squeezed it tight in his own. "We're in this together, Molly Hooper. I need you to know I'm here for you no matter what. If this proves it…so be it."

She smiled and leaned in to peck his cheek before wrapping her arms around him and leaning her head on his shoulder. "I know. And you don't have to prove anything, Sherlock. I was being inconsiderate of your own values. I'll do my best to not care too much for my old traditions in the future, all right?"

He smiled. "Well, it sounds like we have some sort of a compromise. I'm sure Mrs. Hudson will be thrilled her advice worked so well."

Molly nodded and turned to press a more heated kiss to his mouth.

"Molly," he said with a sigh. "I don't want to cause anymore arguments…but you are aware we can't be intimate until you've fully healed up, right?"

Her face contorted into a look of utter disgust. "Yes, Sherlock! The mere thought of that sounds awful right now. But that doesn't mean we can't kiss or…have a cuddle or anything."

He was incapable or restraining an eye roll at her mention of cuddling, but he nonetheless wrapped his own arm around her and pulled her close. Compromise. It had its uses he supposed.

Lestrade had texted him a few days after the birth and said they couldn't meet up for any discussion for another week. So Sherlock waited, though he certainly didn't do so quietly. Molly complained more than once that he needed to simply find work on his own or pick up a few more clients or something rather than pacing 221 B waiting for Lestrade to text him back. But after one day of being particularly restless, she finally stopped being nice about it.

"He's got a lot on his plate right now, Sherlock," Molly snapped. "With the deaths at Buckingham palace and all I'm sure he's getting hell. You let him do his job, and figure out something to do in the meantime." She paused and glanced sharply towards their bedroom where crying had just started. "Like changing Johann's nappy."

Molly seemed to be under some false impression that Sherlock was absolutely disgusted by the premise of changing a dirty nappy. So she frequently used it as some kind of punishment. Sherlock hadn't yet let on that he felt no such thing.

"Natural body process," he muttered as he lifted Johann out of his cot. "But don't tell your mother. I think she gets some sense of satisfaction out of banishing me off to do this not so pleasant task. All it means is that you're a healthy normal baby."

As he held his son for a moment he noticed the gray eyes focusing on him. He moved slightly to the side and watched Johann's gaze following him. Right on time. Normal development, Sherlock thought.

"You see me don't you? Already using those small observation skills you have?" Sherlock said. "Well, for now we'll just settle for actually being able to focus, hmm? When you get older we'll start honing those skills and make them more useful. Most people see but don't observe."

Such a smart boy, Sherlock found himself smiling. Such a small thing, but still very valuable.

He was interrupted from his considerations when his phone beeped. He pulled it out and peered down at the text from Lestrade. Finally!

"Daddy has to go save England," he told Johann. "I'll be back to spend more time with you and your mother later, all right? You continue with all your sleep. After all, there's not much else for you to do yet. When you're older perhaps you'll agree with me that sleep is rather a wasteful use of time. There are so many more important things to do. But for now…might as well."

Sherlock noted that the baby still seemed to be rather alert at the moment, so he carried him out to Molly.

"Oh hello darling, did daddy make you feel better?" Molly asked, scooping him out of Sherlock's arms and planting a few soft kisses on his forehead and cheeks. Sherlock noted she avoided the scar, and he felt something inside him twist painfully. Moriarty would pay. All the better he was seeing Lestrade to form a strategy today.

"Lestrade just informed me he has a spare five minutes to see me."

Molly sighed. "Of course he does. Rewarding you for your pouting. I swear Alex picked it up from you and I won't be surprised if Johann has a good pout going before he's even two."

"I don't pout," Sherlock snapped. "Brood maybe. But those are entirely different things."

She shook her head and smiled. "If you say so. Good luck with Lestrade, give him my regards, all right?"

He gave a nod before throwing on his scarf and coat, heading out of the flat more determined than ever.

Lestrade looked absolutely exhausted. Circles under his eyes, and he was wearing clothes that Sherlock could tell had been worn probably three days in a row. His office was a mess, and he had to clear space for Sherlock to sit down.

"I'm afraid to ask how you are," Sherlock admitted.

"Yeah don't bother," Lestrade grunted. "Things are a bloody mess right now. Trying to deal with all this at once….Christ. I don't know what to do anymore. Your brother came by and clarified a few things. Sounds like Royalty Protection is dealing with most of what happened at the palace, but we've still had to help out you know. And the ridiculous homeless mass killings have left us with quite the project trying to track down identities and figuring out how much to release to the press. I don't envy your brother right now, that's for sure."

"No, he's been quite busy," Sherlock agreed. "Did he mention our personal situation?"

"Yeah, your baby boy…god I want to shoot the bastard in the face myself. You've got some kind of a plan I hope?"

"I'm working on one," Sherlock said. "Implementing a plan where parts of the network can be taken out without causing too much of a stir. It won't be easy. I'm estimating it will take a few years at least. And even then we'll have to probably wait for Moriarty to show his head again. I've already told Mycroft other countries need to be made aware of his presence. But he could hide out for eras if he wanted to."

"But he won't," Lestrade pointed out. "Likes the attention too bloody much, doesn't he?"

"It will be his undoing, yes," Sherlock said. "Or so I hope. I'm leaving you the names of two of his major operatives that I've already discovered. If you would be so kind as to see the proper channels start working on taking them down…it would be helpful. In the meantime I'll continue to dig…though I'll need to maintain some semblance of normalcy….probably maintaining a few personal clients and helping on a few other cases."

"Christ," Lestrade said again. "Yeah, all right. I'll look into it. Sherlock…you got any pictures of the little one? I must admit I'm curious."

Sherlock kept his face neutral even as a certain amount of pride filled him at the thought of showing off his son. He pulled out his phone and flipped to a photo he'd taken of Molly and Johann at the hospital.

"Aw," Lestrade said with a smile. "You a dad. I still can't believe it, even after all this time." He paused and suddenly gave Sherlock a thoughtful look. "You can't work yourself too hard, all right? Got to be there to see him growing up. Kids get big fast…blink and you miss it."

"I'm sure I'll have an adequate amount of time to be with him, especially once all of this Moriarty nonsense is put to rest once and for all," Sherlock said.

"Still, nothing worse than a father who's there but not really there if you know what I mean."

Sherlock swallowed, thinking back to his own parents who were too often busy with their own work and social life and other projects. It was true.

"I'll be there," he said. "I will."

"Sherlock," Molly yelled from the top of the stairs.

He set aside his laptop and stood up. "What did I do this time?" he muttered, glancing at Toby who was staring at him from under the sofa. "Hmm? I can never get anything right."

And right on cue there was crying from the other room too. Sherlock groaned as he tried to figure out whom he should answer first. After a moment he decided to go for the most logical choice. He quickly went to the bedroom and scooped Johann out of his cot. A quick deduction based on smell made him decide the crying was likely out of hunger. He pulled the still squalling infant close and headed back to the stairs.

"What is it?" he asked, halfway up.

"It's Alex he's—" Molly broke off as she caught sight of Johann. "Don't bring him up here!"

"Why not? He's either hungry or wants comforting. Either way he should be with you not me."

"Well I will come tend to him in a moment downstairs. But right now the fact is Alex is ill," Molly said.

Sherlock froze. "Ill? What do you mean? Is he all right? Should we take him to the hospital?"

For some reason with each word he spoke his chest seemed to become tighter and breathing seemed to become more difficult.

Molly stared at him. "No. It's a stomach virus of some kind. Either something he ate or something from school or…who knows. My guess is after a good day of vomiting he'll be back to school tomorrow. But he is running a fever right now and I want to make sure it comes down, so for now I need you to stay with him…and keep Johann downstairs and wash your hands between caring for the two of them."

"Because of risk of infection," Sherlock said, nodding his understanding. "Though most likely it was something ingested…perhaps you'd like me to check our food and see if there are any problems with that."

"If you could. And just see to it that Alex has anything he needs."

"Yes, I understand. But why can't you care for Johann and I care for Alex?" Sherlock asked, already wondering how he was going to balance getting any work done with two people needing constant care.

"Because I'm going to the gym for a bit for my exercise class," Molly said. "Honestly, I've already paid for it and I need to start working this weight off somewhere. It shouldn't be too long. If I feed Johann now he should be fine until I get back. I trust you with both of them. You'll do fine."

"Is this a test?" he asked.

Molly laughed. "Oh Sherlock, I know better than to test you. I know how wonderful you are. It's why I can leave a sick child and a baby with you and not fret. I know you'll do just fine. If you'd rather I will skip my class though…"

"No," Sherlock said. "No, you can go…I'll be fine. It's just…making sure Alex has what he needs and Johann will likely just sleep."

"Exactly," Molly said, leaning in to peck his cheek. "Now, go take Johann down for me. I'll wash my hands and then come take care of him."

Sherlock sighed and did as instructed. He was still trying to reconcile what had happened when Molly had told him Alex was ill. It reminded him of that moment on the moors when he'd seen the hound in his drugged state…panic…irrational uncontrollable fear. But why?

He shook off his thoughts, eager to simply move forward. Fear was ridiculous, especially in such circumstances. He brushed off the worries and set about doing his best to calm Johann down while Molly cleaned up her hands.

Once she took him, he went up to see Alex. He opened the door to find the normally energetic boy pale and still, lying beneath a few layers of blankets. He didn't perk up in the slightest when he saw Sherlock.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Sherlock asked.

Alex shook his head before rasping, "no."

Sherlock sighed and went over to the window to crack it open. A bit of fresh air in the stuffy and rank room would likely help. He then went over to Alex, smoothing a hand through his hair and feeling for himself that the boy did indeed have a temperature.

"Make sure you're drinking plenty," Sherlock said. "You need to keep hydrated."

"'M trying," Alex said. "Keeps coming up."

"All the more reason," Sherlock said. "I think in a few hours most of this will probably pass and we can see if Mrs. Hudson might be able to make you some broth or something easy on the stomach."

Alex didn't even offer a smile at the offer. Sherlock felt uncomfortable in the silence and straightened up.

"All right, well try to get some rest. You can call me…or send me a text or something if you need anything. I'll be right downstairs, all right?"

"Can you bring…Toby up?" Alex asked.

Sherlock sighed but decided to cater to Alex's whims considering how ill he was. He went downstairs and did his best to corner the cat. He ended up with five sets of scratches on his arms and a very disgruntled cat hiding under Alex's bed.

"He'll come out when he's ready," Alex said, even as he frowned.

"I suppose he will. Anything else?" Sherlock said, hoping there wasn't.

Alex shook his head and curled the blankets up tighter around himself.

"Good, then get some good rest, all right?"

Alex nodded, even as his eyes closed. Sherlock hoped he would sleep.

An hour later, Sherlock was extremely glad when Molly returned. Johann had been restless and colicky. Alex had vomited two more times and didn't seem to be keeping much of anything down and was to a point of utter misery. And even in sixty minutes, Sherlock was at his wit's end.

He accosted Molly the moment she came in the door, pushing Johann back into her arms who soothed quite quickly to her touch, falling asleep in a matter of minutes. And after that was done he sent her up to Alex and watched as she whispered reassurances and lifted up a water bottle for him to sip at, smoothing his blankets and fluffing his pillow for him before leaving.

"You have a knack for this I simply don't," Sherlock admitted begrudgingly later.

"Oh Sherlock," Molly said with a sigh. "No one is going to have an easy time with this. Sick children, crying babies…most every parent has trouble with those things every now and then. I have memories of my mother trying to care for all three of us who were sick with chicken pox at once. She honestly started bawling after a particularly long hard day. It's exhausting. But we'll get through it together."

"I hope so," Sherlock muttered. "My god, this will be the death of me. The great Sherlock Holmes, killed by exhaustion trying to raise children."

Molly giggled and leaned in to give him a hug. "Well, I suppose there will be bad days…but the good ones will make up for it."

"They'd better," he said.

Johann's first smile made up for it in full.

Six weeks old and able to flash what would have clearly been a smile if he had teeth to show. Lips curling and little eyes lighting with some level of happiness. Sherlock smiled back, doing his best to encourage the obvious joy his son was showing. It was what he wanted most after all. Johann happy and healthy and able to live life as he wanted.

Sherlock smiled and leaned in to press a soft kiss to Johann's temple.

"My precious boy," he murmured. "What would your mother and I do without you?"

His eyes met those of his son. He let his promise remain in their shared gaze, letting his son know without speaking every bit of love he felt. And how hard he was going to try to change things for the better.

A/N: No, I don't think anywhere in the show there's any indication Molly has any religious background, but I thought it would create a little extra conflict between the two. One of those lovely problems that can spring up between a couple, especially parents. Seriously, compromise and understanding and communication are so so important.

Thanks to BelieverofManyThings, Jesuslovesmarina, and Denethorian (I've MISSED YOU sorry for making you panic!) for reviewing.

I have to say the best way to keep me going on this project is to review folks. The more encouragement I get, the more eager I am to finish writing. Also, it's a great way to give me some awesome suggestions for anything you'd like to happen before I end this thing.

Well, until next time! -elsarenard