"Better be going. Nice to talk to you... How was your name?"

"Sebastian," the man said politely. "Sebastian Moran."

Harry took her car keys from her purse. "Enjoy England. You'll like it, I tell ya."

"I'm rather enjoying myself, yes," Moran nodded. "Good bye, Harriet Watson. Hope you get to see your sister."

When Sherlock was gone, Jane went upstairs to her room. She sat next to Matthew's sleeping form on their bed and caressed his dark curls. She smiled at the sight of a few grey hairs and then she moved her hand to his face, where she touched the wrinkles around the doctor's eyes, on his forehead and kissed his cheek.

Matthew looked so peaceful when sleeping. Jane couldn't help but feel tenderness for that man who had been her partner for more than two years. She remembered all the moments they had shared together since the very beginning when he helped Hamish when he woke up after the coma, when he helped Locky to walk his first steps, their lunches, the cups of coffee shared. They talked lots during those days.

Jane knew Matthew had somehow always been meant to be part of her life. What started as a mere friendship changed into a new thing and a couple of months later they were holding hands and kissing. Then, they met their bodies and then they spent a whole month together in the country. Jane always believed life was being far too nice. She used to think life was giving her too much after losing everything. She was a widow with two little children and no hopes inside her heart. And now Jane looked at Matthew sleeping in their bed and realised she was now engaged to him, they were raising not two but three children, they were living together and they were, somehow, building a life together.

She realised she was not that Jane Watson who thought her life meant nothing and that there were no hopes for her. Now she was a doctor, mother of three children: two boys and one little girl. She thought she was happy.

But then she knew she wasn't.

And that maybe she would never be truly happy.

Because the very secure foundations where this relationship with Matthew had been built were now shaking.

"I need you," Jane whispered as she pressed a kiss to the doctor's lips. "Matt, please hold me."

The doctor opened his eyes and stared at her for a few seconds until he realised she had been crying. Matthew immediately pulled the duvet, opened his arms and let her rest next to him, in his arms, with her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest.

"You're cold," he whispered.

Jane closed her eyes and kissed his chest. "Tell me you would never hurt me."

"I think during these two past years together I've proved you I'd never hurt you."

"I know."

"Jane..." Matthew whispered softly. "I've talked to my solicitor. The divorce papers should be ready soon, so we can get married for Christmas. And adopt Sophie together."

She said nothing.

Harry Watson asked for another pint. It was her second beer and she had just arrived at the pub. She drank rapidly, but enjoying the taste of it. Clara had left long ago and it didn't matter how hard she tried, Harry couldn't stay away from drinking. She had stopped for a while, only for Clara, but then it was all over and now there were no more reasons to stay sober.

"Two pints please, of the best you've got," said a man in fancy clothes and sat next to Harry. "Hello."

Harry didn't say a word.

As soon as the bartender handed the man the two pints, he placed one close to Harry and smiled at her. "For you."

"I don't do blokes," Harry almost barked.

"Can't I just buy you a drink?"

The expression on Harry's face changed. The man was wearing fancy clothes, quite expensive. He was tall, blonde, blue eyed and he looked important. She certainly didn't like men, but every once in a while she liked to pretend she was straight.

"Sorry darling," Harry purred and smiled.

The man smiled back. "May I ask your name?"

"Harry," she replied with a wink and sipped more of the pint this man had just bought for her. "Harry Watson. Yours?"

"Sebastian Moran."

"So...," Harry said, looking at him. "What are you doing here? You don't look like the type."

The man laughed and sipped more of his own pint. "Just needed to get out. You know, escape from the office, the family."

"Ha."

"What about you?"

Harry crossed her legs and glanced at her watch. "Just passing by. Needed a few pints before a two hour drive to London."

"Oh, are you going on holidays?"

"Nah. We're visiting my sister."

The man raised an eyebrow. "We? You and your other half?"

Harry rolled her eyes. "Nah, just my mum."

Sebastian sipped his own pint. "You don't look excited."

"Haven't seen her in... like six years. Mum insists she wants to see her," Harry said and sipped more beer. "'pparently she got married to another man and now has three children."

"Sounds... good, I suppose."

Harry smiled sarcastically. "For fuck's sake, all my mum's been talking these past days was 'Jane this... Jane that'. I fucking hate it."

"Never got along well?"

"She was my parents' favourite girl," Harry said bitterly. "She was the one with good grades, straight, the one who kept the house clean and all that shit," she sipped more beer. "Then she got herself knocked up and married a rich bloke. It turned out it wasn't his child," Harry said and laughed sarcastically. "The little Jane aka 'The perfect Watson girl' turned out to be a wanton little slut."

The man frowned, but hid a tiny smile. "I don't know why, but I feel that's not all. To hate a sister like you do..."

"Bloody hell, no," Harry coughed. "The rich bloke forgave her and they had another baby. And my Clara doesn't forgive me my drinking," Harry said bitterly. "She's a doctor now. Shit, and I was kicked out of uni. The lucky bitch."

"So you're going to see her now?"

Harry nodded. "My mum is bloody convinced about it. She says she wants to see Jane. meet her grandchildren. But ha ha," Harry laughed. "'Three-times-whore', that's how I call her. Got three kids of three different men."

"So... you're not excited to meet your sister's children?" Sebastian Moran asked curiously.

Harry finished her pint. "Never liked children. That's why my Clara left," then, she glanced at her watch and smiled at Sebastian. "Better be going. Nice to talk to you... How was your name?"

"Sebastian," the man said politely. "Sebastian Moran."

"Sebastian Moran, right. Irish?"

Sebastian smiled. "From Dublin."

Harry took her car keys from her purse. "Enjoy England. You'll like it, I tell ya."

"I'm rather enjoying myself, yes," Moran nodded. "Good bye, Harriet Watson. Hope you get to see your sister."

"Hey, dad," Jane said whilst filling in some charts. "What's up? Hey, would you like to have lunch with me and Matt?"

Greg looked at Jane with sad eyes. He had gone to Bart's as soon as he got the reports of a car accident. Two women died. According to the early reports the driver was drunk at the moment of the accident. The car hit a wall but that was not all. The car drifted, and the woman sitting next to the driver died immediately. The air bag on the driver seat didn't work.

"Jane... I need to talk to you."

She immediately knew something was wrong.

For some reason Greg preferred to tell Jane the news in Matthew's presence. Because he inwardly knew the doctor was going to be able to support her.

"Harry and Suzanne... they are dead."

"What?!"

The D.I. ran a hand over his face. "They died in a car crash yesterday night. Harry was driving."

"Jane, love," The doctor said softly as he embraced Jane into a tight hug.

Jane buried her face in the doctor's chest and sobbed loudly.

"This wasn't an accident," Sherlock said stepping into Greg's office and throwing the newspaper to his desk. "The brakes' been -"

Greg shoot him a look. "Sherlock, stop."

"This wasn't an accident, Lestrade," Sherlock repeated. "They were killed."

"The case is closed. It was an accident."

"It wasn't! Have you checked the brakes? Why the air bag didn't work?"

Greg sighed tiredly. "Harry's car was a deathtrap, Sherlock. And she was drunk. That's the only explanation."

"That's the only explanation because you don't want to see further."

"Why are you doing this, Sherlock? You and Jane are not together any more."

Sherlock preferred to ignore that. "They were killed. Someone fixed the brakes and the air bag."

"Harry was drunk -"

"According to the blood tests done she was hardly that drunk," Sherlock pointed out. "The low level of alcohol on her blood indicates she only had two to three pints, I would say. She's a drinker," the detective said firmly. "Harriet Watson would have never been drunk after drinking only three pints of beer."

Greg glared at Sherlock and sunk into his chair. They had buried Suzanne and Harriet early that day, very close to where Jane's father was. Greg couldn't erase from his memory Jane's tears continuously rolling down her face. There was Matthew to hold her hand and tell her everything was going to be OK.

Now she was alone. Jane had no more relatives and she was the only left of his family. Her mother and her sister were gone.

"Who did this, Sherlock?"

"Sebastian Moran."

"Who?"

"Moriarty's right-hand man," Sherlock said calmly. "He promised to destroy me and my family. He's the one behind Jane's kidnapping."

Greg nodded, surprised. "And who shot Matthew too?"

"Tell your team to check on the brakes and on the air bag. Text me the details."

The following day Greg was given the results of the car inspection.

The brakes and the air bag were fixed before the accident - GL

Two days later Jane was back to work. She didn't want to stay at home and think of what it could have been. Her mother and Harry were going to see her. They were going to see her and her children and they died.

Jane had always wanted her mother and her sister to meet Hamish, Locky and now Sophie. She knew her mother would be proud of her, of how she managed to raise two little children and now with Matthew's help she was raising them and Sophie too. Jane wanted to see her mother and give it a try. She still remembered telling her mother that everything had been a lie: that Sherlock wasn't Hamish's biological father and that they only got married because she didn't want to give her baby up to adoption and not because they loved each other. Suzanne Watson thought she had been a promiscuous girl and that she was a liar.

But Jane wanted to forget that and see her mother and her sister meeting her children, Matthew and the new life she had.

Jane finished her shift, went to the changing rooms and changed her clothes. She glanced at her phone. Matthew had sent her text asking her to go to his office as soon as she finished her shift so the two of them would go pick up Locky and Sophie from childcare, Hamish from school and go back home all together.

So she wasn't expecting to see Sherlock in one of the hospital corridors.

"What are you doing here?!"

Sherlock glanced at her engagement ring. It was polished. He had already noticed before Jane regularly polished it. Doctor Morstan too.

They cared.

"I need to talk to you."

"I don't have anything to talk with you," Jane snapped.

"I do," Sherlock cut Jane off. "Now. Alone. It is important."

Jane glared at him. "I can't. We have nothing to talk about -"

"Harriet and your mother's deaths were no accidents. They were killed."

Jane felt her heart had stopped beating. She was still processing her mother and her sister had died in a car accident and the last thing she needed was to hear, from Sherlock's mouth, that they had been killed.

"What are you talking about?" Jane said quietly and looked around. There were some doctors and nurses passing by, some patients.

They were in the same floor where Matthew's office was and Jane didn't want him to see them. She had promised Matthew she would never see Sherlock unless it was to discuss things regarding Locky and Hamish.

"They were killed intentionally. The brakes and the air bag didn't fail - he fixed them."

"Jane?"

It was Matthew.

"Darling," he said, placing a hand around Jane's waist and kissing her forehead. "What are you doing here?" Matthew asked angrily, his eyes on Sherlock.

"Not your business," Sherlock snapped and turned to Jane. "Jane, I need to talk to you."

"Greg... he didn't say anything."

"Because Lestrade doesn't like to go beyond things. Sebastian Moran fixed the air bag and the brakes," Sherlock explained. "Harriet was hardly -"

"He?" Jane cut Sherlock off. "Moran?"

Sherlock nodded. "Yes, Sebastian Moran."

Matthew held Jane's hand. "For God's sake, for how long will you carry on with this?" he asked. "Jane, he is making this out."

"Shut up!" Sherlock hissed.

"You come here and make things out about her sister and mother's deaths? You're a heartless bastard," Matthew said angrily. "Leave her alone."

Sherlock decided to ignore him. "Harriet was not drunk at the moment of the accident," the detective said to Jane.

Jane closed her eyes and tears rolled down her face. The grip on Matthew's hand tightened.

"Sherlock, leave," Matthew said.

"She wasn't drunk. It was the car -" Jane mumbled.

"The police reports are wrong. Harriet had a low level of alcohol on her system when the accident occurred," Sherlock said. "Harriet was a drinker. She would have never been drunk after three pints. You knew her. She was a heavy drinker and your mother -"

"Don't talk about her like that! Don't you dare to talk about my sister and my mother like that!" Jane almost shouted. "They were my family and I won't let you say things -"

Jane tried to speak. She opened her mouth to say something but the words never came out. She stumbled and pressed both hands to her temples. Tears rolled down her face and Matthew tried to take her hands.

"Breath, Jane," he whispered to her and turned to Sherlock. "Leave. Leave us alone. Do not include us in your fantasies of terrorists and people who want to kill you."

Sherlock felt he couldn't take it any more. He had seen enough of the doctor playing the perfect husband to his own wife, the perfect father to his own children and now the only one who could protect Jane.

The detective had seen enough of that and he had heard enough too; just a few days ago he heard Jane having sex with Doctor Morstan, saying how good lover that man was, how she wished Matthew was the father of her children, that she loved him...

It was enough.

And now Sherlock was going to kill Doctor Morstan.

He punched Matthew in the jaw. Before the doctor could react Sherlock pushed him against the nearest wall and punched him hard on the face several times.

"Sherlock stop it!"

But Sherlock was blind. Suddenly he was taking all his rage and hatred against Matthew Morstan out of his system. The doctor fell to the floor where Sherlock kicked him. He kicked him on the stomach and finally grabbed Matthew by the collar of his jacket and hit his head against the floor several times.

Matthew was a bit taller than Sherlock and heavier as well. The doctor went to the gym and had strong arms and legs, toned chest and body, but he couldn't defend himself from Sherlock's rage and anger.

"Sherlock -"

Jane tried to grab his arm to pull him off Matthew. Several doctors ran to pull the detective off the doctor who was on the floor and many patients stared at the scene in horror. Matthew's nose was severely bleeding and his eyes were tightly closed. He kept pressing his fingers to his temples.

"Matthew, are you OK?" Jane asked worriedly.

"Jane... ," Matthew said, pressing a hand to his temple. "It hurts... oh God, my head hurts..."

The doctor coughed blood.

And Jane knew something was wrong.

"Take him upstairs!" Jane shouted to the doctors and nurses around them. "He needs to get a MRI now!"

"Doctor Watson -"

"He's got a brain tumour!"

Matthew was unconscious when he was taken upstairs. Several nurses and doctor ran to him, leaving Jane and Sherlock alone in the corridor.

"He is not ill," Sherlock snapped, cleaning the blood on his knuckles. "He's lying to you. There's no such thing as brain tumour."

Jane turned to him and slapped him hard across the face.

"He has no brain tumour! He's lying. He's manipulating you," Sherlock said, pressing a hand to his cheek. "Can't you see what's going on?" Sherlock almost screamed. "He's not ill! He's a liar. He's keeping you by his side using a brain tumour he does not have!"

"How dare you!" Jane yelled. "How dare you to come here to insult my family and my husband?"

"I don't see what difference it has made that your sister and mother are gone. You, Jane, cut your family off, it was exactly like they weren't even alive to you. I don't see why the sudden acknowledge and care for them now?" Sherlock said without really thinking about it. "And he is not your husband. I am your husband!"

Jane bit her lips, tears were rolling down her face. "You might be my husband, but you're not the man I love."

Sherlock remained silent.

"Stay away from us. Can't you understand I don't love you any more?"

The detective curled his lips upwards sarcastically. "Say whatever you want. You love me. You know it."

He turned and left.

Jane stared at him until his figure disappeared.

Notes:

MRI (Magnetic Resonance Imaging) is a medical imaging technique used in radiology to visualize internal structures of the body in detail.