Author's note: Once again, I am backtracking, to pick up the story from Sherlock's POV from where it left off with him.
Sherlock spent most of the night after Mary's death tossing and turning. When he managed to sleep, distorted images filled his dreams, dreams of Mary being shot, dreams of Mary's image dissolving into that of Molly and her being shot instead, and each time he felt the acute pain of loss.
The sound of his phone ringing alerted him to wakefulness, thankfully interrupting the latest dream where Victoria was lying in a pool of blood at his feet.
Without even looking to see who was calling, just glad to not be subjected anymore to the torture of more loved ones dying in front of his eyes, he snatched his phone up from the bedside table and pressed the accept button.
"Hello?" he said hoarsely in a voice roughened by sleep. He didn't know who he had expected to be calling, but it certainly had not crossed his mind that it would be his mother.
"Sherlock, dear, you sound dreadful!"
Sherlock rubbed a weary hand across his eyes. "You just woke me, Mummy," he informed her flatly.
"I did? It's past ten o'clock!" she responded, a little tartly.
Sherlock's lips tightened at his mother's tone. "I didn't sleep well."
Her voice softened and she said, "I'm so sorry, Sherlock. Molly spoke to me last night and told me what happened."
Sherlock felt a flash of anger arise within himself. "Why did she do that? It was not her place to call you." He sat up properly in bed, extricating himself from the tangled sheet and sliding his feet to the floor.
"Actually, I was the one who called," explained his mother. "I don't know if you are aware of the fact that Victoria is staying with us right now, and Molly has called each night to speak with her daughter. Last night she didn't, so I called her and she told me what happened."
Sherlock swallowed. "Oh, yes, she had mentioned that to me." He had completely forgotten that Victoria was with his parents and suddenly, now that there was no case to occupy his time, he realised he missed her.
Violet Holmes's voice broke into his reverie. "Molly also told me you broke things off with her, as much as you can end a relationship that is secret to begin with." Now her voice was accusatory.
"It was for her own good," said Sherlock defensively, curling his bare toes against the floor boards. "I'm not good enough for her. It was my rash actions that caused Mary's death. Undoubtedly, one day, I would do the same with Molly."
Mrs. Holmes snorted. "That is utterly ridiculous, Sherlock. From what Molly said, you were not to blame. Mary chose to sacrifice herself for you."
Sherlock gritted his teeth. "Yes, and left a baby behind in the process."
"And what about your child, Sherlock?" demanded his mother, and Sherlock wondered if Molly had said she was pregnant again, then he realised this was not so as his mother continued. "Victoria talks about you all the time. Will you abandon her as well, like her mother?"
Sherlock thrust his free hand through his hair, feeling guilt over the new thought that abandoning Victoria was probably not far removed from Rosie growing up without a mother. "I…I don't know, Mummy. Right now, all I can think about is John and how I can make it up to him and Rosie for breaking my vow to protect his family. I failed to do that."
His mother sighed. "Sherlock, if you will not let Molly help you deal with things, I'm going to give you the number of a therapist I know of in London. Give her my name and I'm sure she will be able to fit you in immediately for an appointment. But please, try and sort things out with Molly. She is hurting as well, and I know you still love her or you wouldn't be pushing her away."
Sherlock pursed his lips. He didn't like his mother interfering in his personal business, but he supposed her idea of a therapist was better than nothing. Ignoring her words about Molly, he said, "Give me the number."
After she had given him the name and number of the woman which he committed to his short-term memory, Violet Holmes asked, "Would you like to say hello to Victoria, while I have you on the phone?"
Sherlock wondered if his mother was trying to manipulate the situation so that he would be reminded that he had a daughter, but even if that were the case, the recent dream came back to him of Victoria dying at his feet and he knew speaking to her would help to erase that horrible image from his mind.
"Yes, Mummy. I will speak to her."
He heard noises in the background, murmurs of conversation, and then Victoria was on the line. "Daddy!" she exclaimed. "I miss you."
Sherlock swallowed a sudden lump in his throat, and he began to wonder why he had pushed Molly away when that would mean hurting his own daughter as well, not to mention their unborn child. What the hell was he doing to himself?
"I miss you too, sweet pea. What have you been up to with Grandma and Grandpa?" he finally asked.
Victoria went on to tell him about going shopping and getting "pwesents," and Sherlock knew his daughter was being thoroughly spoiled, not that he objected to that. She had had very little of that in the first couple years of her life, after all. He also realised that if Victoria had been out shopping with his parents, at some point questions were going to be asked about her identity. He could not keep her a secret forever, especially now that his parents were so heavily involved in their granddaughter's life.
Once the funeral is over and I find a way to restore my friendship with John, receive his forgiveness, I guess I will have to reevaluate things, he thought to himself. He would have to use his mind palace to weigh his own feelings of guilt against the pain he was causing to others, to see if there was a possible solution that could be made which would have a better outcome. For now though, he needed to concentrate on the immediate future.
He spoke for a couple minutes longer with Victoria and then asked her to put her grandmother back on the phone.
"Mummy, I will make an appointment with the therapist you suggested. When are you bringing Victoria back to London?" he asked.
"Molly requested that she stay with us for another week what with all the arrangements that will need to be made for the funeral," explained Mrs. Holmes.
"That makes sense," Sherlock responded, thinking Molly was behaving in a responsible manner as usual. He bade his mother goodbye and put down his phone, then went to get dressed for the day.
He called the therapist and was able to make an appointment for later that afternoon.
Sherlock was just contemplating whether he felt like making himself something to eat for a late breakfast/early lunch, not really feeling hungry, when he heard the familiar voice of Mrs. Hudson calling from outside his door, "Hoo hoo, I'm home!"
Of course, the elderly woman had no idea about what had occurred the previous evening, and Sherlock knew it would be up to him to explain what had happened.
He invited Mrs. Hudson into the flat, which was rather unnecessary because she had already started turning the door handle and was planning on coming in anyway, as usual.
Explaining what had transpired was very difficult. Sherlock felt again the guilt wash over him as he related how Mary had taken a bullet for him and died as a result.
Mrs. Hudson was understandably horrified, although she also tried to tell Sherlock he should not blame himself. "Sherlock, dear. You cannot hold yourself responsible for the actions of another person. The whole situation is so tragic and I feel terrible for that poor, motherless babe, but blaming yourself accomplishes nothing except to feed into your own misery."
She was sitting across from Sherlock, in John's chair and he leaned forward in his own. "I made a vow to protect the Watson family at the wedding reception. You heard it yourself. I failed." He stressed the last word.
"Sherlock, you cannot predict the future and nobody could have foreseen what would happen. You just need some time to accept it and to move on. I'm sure that with Molly's help you can get through this."
Sherlock chewed on his lower lip. Mrs. Hudson and his mother were definitely on the same page. "I broke things off with Molly last night. She's better off with somebody who doesn't have a high profile profession like mine, and who obviously can't even protect the people he loves."
Mrs. Hudson gave an inpatient huff. "That is absolute nonsense. Are you even listening to yourself? When will you learn that you cannot make other people's decisions for them? Just as Mary chose to sacrifice herself for you, you cannot choose what Molly should do. If she is willing to take the risk of being with you, that is her choice. For an intelligent man, sometimes I feel like you don't understand the simplest things." She spoke in a rather fierce tone which surprised Sherlock. The fog of guilt and misery that had settled over his brain since the previous day lifted slightly.
"Perhaps you are right," he conceded, "but for now, I need to take things one day at a time. I have an appointment with a therapist later today, so perhaps that will give me some clarity."
Mrs. Hudson sniffed. "I certainly hope so. You need to think of how your own choices affect others. You don't only have Molly to consider, you know. You already have a daughter with her and now another baby on the way. They deserve your consideration as well."
He let out a frustrated sigh. "Yes, yes, I understand what you are saying. If I promise to consider things further, will you just let me be for now?"
Mrs. Hudson nodded. "That's all I'm asking." Then she changed the subject. "Have you eaten anything since all this happened? You look as if you have not slept much either. Can I make you a sandwich?"
For the first time since the previous night, Sherlock felt a slight flicker of amusement invade his tormented psyche. It was typical of Mrs. Hudson to act like his mother and want to take care of him. "Thank you, Mrs. Hudson. If you wish to bring me a sandwich, I will not object."
Mrs. Hudson ended up bringing him three sandwiches. He forced himself to eat two of them, all the while contemplating his future.
He went to his appointment which was a singularly unsuccessful one and determined it had been a waste of time. All the woman wanted to do was have him talk about his feelings, rather than make suggestions on how to fix things with John. He would give it just one more try, and that only because his mother had recommended the woman.
It was the following day when Mrs. Hudson informed him of the funeral arrangements. Sherlock was not surprised that he had not personally been told the details. He would go to the funeral of course, that went without saying. Mary had been his friend. He decided it would be best though to remain near the back. He did not want to cause a scene with John.
On the day of the funeral, Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson travelled together to the church. He noted it was the same one he had been in a few weeks earlier for Rosie's christening. He had certainly not expected to be returning to a church anytime soon.
The service was due to begin only a few minutes after they arrived. Mrs. Hudson walked forward to the front and Sherlock slipped into a seat near the rear. He observed that Molly was sitting with John and Rosie as well, and the sight made his heart ache. He wondered if she would ever forgive him for pushing her away. He certainly couldn't blame her if she didn't. He knew at some point they would need to talk again, but obviously now was not the time.
Sherlock slipped out just before the end of the service and went to a second therapy session. Finding it no more successful in helping him determine what to do, he decided he'd wasted enough time on it and returned to Baker Street, determined to sort things through alone.
When Mrs. Hudson saw him arrive home, she came up to the flat to talk about things, how they would need to rally around and look after little Rosie. To get her off the topic Sherlock told her he needed to see if there were any new cases for him.
When she expressed her concern about him being up to it, Sherlock responded with, "Work is the best antidote to sorrow, Mrs. Hudson."
He stared at his laptop screen for a few moments, as his mind went back to the events of the night at the aquarium, then he asked his landlady to say one word, if he should ever show himself to be acting cocky and over-confident again.
"Norbury?" she questioned uncomprehendingly.
"Yes, just that," he responded. Perhaps she might prevent him from making such a foolish mistake again.
Suddenly he noticed the DVD on his desk. Apparently it had been mixed up with Mrs. Hudson's things. There was a title on the DVD that said "Miss me?" Sherlock felt his heartbeat quicken. Here at last was evidence that Moriarty had a plan for him after all.
With anxious fingers, he inserted the DVD into his laptop, but the contents were not at all what he expected. Instead of a video message from Moriarty, it was one from Mary.
It appeared Mary had always been concerned that something might happen to her, and he stared at the screen while she told him she was giving him a case - to save John Watson.
Mrs. Hudson quietly left the room, obviously respecting his privacy, as he continued to watch the DVD. Once he had finished watching, he knew he had to make one more attempt at reconciliation with John. If that was not successful, he would have to go to more extreme measures.
Sherlock resolved that he would go and visit John the following day, to see if there was anything he could do for him.
When Sherlock arrived at John's door the next day, he knocked tentatively, then stood back, feeling uncertain about his reception.
It was somewhat of a surprise when it wasn't John who opened the door, but Molly. He caught his breath at the sight of her holding little Rosie. Had it really been only a week since he had kissed her goodbye, even less time than that since he had been making those plans for the future, getting ready to propose to her? It seemed like a lifetime. Did she hate him now?
Sherlock saw no anger in Molly's eyes though, Nor was there anger in her tone when she spoke to him. She looked so beautiful, yet so sad, with the baby in her arms, and Sherlock longed to do nothing more than hold her, tell her he loved her, but he could not offer her false hope yet again. He'd hurt her too many times. His intellect warred with his heart even as Molly gave him a note from John and told him that John did not wish to have anything to do with him.
When Molly returned inside, Sherlock knew the last door had closed on his friendship with John as it was. Drastic measures would be needed if he were to comply with Mary's wishes to save his friend.
Decision made, Sherlock went home and pulled out his stash of drugs from their hiding place in the fireplace of 221C Baker Street. He owed it to Mary to accede to her last wishes. He was going to save John Watson even if he killed himself in the process. It was the least he could do.
And so it began, the downward spiral into a drug-induced haze that Sherlock had not experienced since his uni days. Even as he began, he was soon aware that he was overindulging in the cocktail of drugs he had chosen to use. He sought escape from his guilt and searched desperately for a case that might be worthy of the attention of John Watson. He sequestered himself in his flat, only allowing Billy Wiggins entrance in order to help control his intake. This was not wholly successful as he discovered after a week when he received an unsolicited client who provided him with the case he was looking for.
As soon as Faith Smith explained the details of her father's strange practices, Sherlock knew he was on to something big and he began to pursue the man who was generally known as a philanthropist who had founded several charities. But Sherlock knew for certain the man was a serial killer. He just needed to find a way to expose him. Unfortunately, he also needed to pull back on the drugs a little so he could focus. Even Billy said he had gone too far.
Sherlock began to map out his plan of action, and a week after meeting Faith Smith he made plans for a confrontation to take place two weeks later. By that time, he was sure he would have enough evidence to prove Culverton Smith's guilt.
With that in mind, Sherlock sent a text to Molly, the first time he had communicated with her since that day at John's flat. He had not even tried to see his daughter, knowing that it would frighten her to see him once again in this state. He certainly didn't need that on his conscience.
He provided Molly with an address of a female therapist, a woman who was not too far from John's work, that he was certain his friend, or former friend, would seek help from. In a moment of clarity, Sherlock remembered he had never retrieved his favourite coat from Molly's either. So he asked her to bring it, as well as an ambulance. Yes, he was sure John would want to have a second opinion about Sherlock's state of health and mind, and Molly would be the one who could do it.
In the end, he found himself at the address he predicted correctly that John would be at. Unfortunately, the method in which he arrived was not the way he had planned it when Mrs. Hudson drove him there in the boot of her car. Nevertheless, he arrived, and knew he just had to make sure John would take him seriously and work with him to expose the killer for old times sake.
It was a relief when Molly arrived as he had hoped she would, with a fully equipped ambulance. She always came through for him, no matter what. He might have been high as a kite, but he still knew he loved her desperately. Despite the drugs in his system, Sherlock was beginning to change his mind about the decisions he had made in regard to Molly and his future with her. And when he got clean again, that would bear thinking about.
He couldn't help the sudden leap of his heart as he spied Molly, even as he walked a little unsteadily, heading out of the front door towards the ambulance. "Ready to go, Molly? Just tell me when to cough." Then he added, to prove he remembered texting her, "Hope you remembered my coat."
As Sherlock entered the ambulance, he had to admit, he was looking forward to spending a few minutes alone with Molly before the rest of his plan played out.
Author's note: So, Sherlock's descent into drugs has happened quickly. I'm not going to drag this out as long as the events from the first episode of season 4! As you can see, Sherlock is already second-guessing his rash actions with Molly and realising he is not being fair to either her, Victoria or their unborn child. So, what do you think is going to happen in the ambulance? That seems to be a popular storyline for authors to write about! Go on, have a guess! What is your own headcanon about what went on in there? What do you wish had gone on in there?
Hope you like my little explanation for the three recording devices in the coat!