Mycroft explains how six months before he died, Molly's father met Meredith when he was in the city and they instantly formed a connection. Soon after they began dating, but her didn't mention it to Molly or Matthew because he thought it would be too much for them to handle, especially after the news that he was dying. Mycroft tells them that after he died, Meredith found out that she was pregnant.

Molly's jaw drops and she covers her mouth in shock. Sherlock furrows his brow and rubs Molly's back.

"S-so...so...what you're saying is that...Matthew and I...we have a little sister?"

"Yes. Unfortunately, your father never got to know or to meet her."

Molly tears up and hugs Sherlock. He holds her close and sways, rubbing her back.

"The woman in his hospital room..."

"Yes, that was Meredith. Your father proposed to her two days before he died. They were going to wed the following week after he discussed it with you and Matthew."

"So...he really loved her?"

"It would appear so."

"Where are they? When can I meet them?"

"Well, you already have. Your sister, at least."

"Mycroft Holmes, what the hell do you mean I already have?"

He sighs deeply. "The reason I came to tell you this tonight is because you already met her. In fact, she is a lot like you, Molly."

"Explain. Now."

"Well, you have been working with her for two days now."

Molly's eyes widen and she tears up. "You mean...oh my God. But..."

"Clearly, she looks like her mother, but she definitely has the Hooper brain."

"Carly? Carly is my sister?"

"Yes."

"Oh my God...oh my God..." Tears fall down her face and she sits, looking completely shell-shocked. "She's...so sweet."

"Now that you know, you can do what you may with the information. I do not have knowledge of whether her mother has told her about you, you'll have to figure that one out on your own."

Molly sighs. "Can you just...go now...I need some time to process this."

"Ahh yes, the power of a feeble mind needs time to go through the motions of emotion."

"Mycroft GET OUT!" Sherlock roars at him.

Mycroft sighs and picks up his umbrella, pausing a moment. "Doctor Hooper, I do hope all is well in the end." With that he strides out the door.

John places a hand on Molly's shoulder and sighs. "He can be such a prick, I can't believe..well, actually I can believe that he kept this from you. But I'm sorry all the same. I'll let you and Sherlock have some alone time. I should probably pick up Rosie anyway."

Sherlock nods slowly and Molly sniffles, giving John a light hug. "Thanks, John. I'm sorry you had to be here for that. And I'm sorry dinner was ruined."

"No, Molly, dinner wasn't ruined. It was lovely. Thanks for having me again. Sherlock, I'll see you soon."

"Bye, John."

John grabs his keys and exits. Molly can't help herself from erupting into sobs and clinging to Sherlock as he cradles her into his chest. "I-I can't believe this...I-I can't believe after losing my Dad and knowing how much I loved him that Mycroft would keep his other daughter away from me. She's my baby sister! I could have known her growing up, I-I could've been there for her. Matty too."

"I know how you feel...really I do. But I also know that it must be a bit harder because of the loss of your Dad. Plus, your sister seems sweet, not a psychopath."

Molly can't help but chuckle at Sherlock's attempt to lighten the mood with a bit of morbid humor. She looks up at him and cups his cheek, gently brushing her thumb over his prominent cheekbone. "I love you..."

"I love you too", he smiles softly and kisses her forehead. Molly goes up on her tiptoes and kisses his lips softly. Sherlock slips his arms around her waist and kisses back, humming softly, enjoying the softness of her velvety lips against his own.

Molly's eyes flutter and she slinks her arms around his neck, pulling him down and deepening the kiss. They both moan against one another, and Sherlock gently slips his hands under her shirt onto her Snow-White skin, ghosting his fingers over her sides. She shudders in response and gently pushes him against the wall, snogging him harder and more desperately.

Sherlock's mind swirls with thoughts of only her, and how he absolutely made the right choice to be hers. He kisses back just as heatedly, sliding his tongue against hers and eliciting another delicious moan before they both pull away for some much needed oxygen. Sherlock cups her face as he pants hard, looking into her eyes.

Molly stares up into his eyes, blushing as she sees how dilated they are and knows that hers must be too.

"You are so beautiful, Molly."

Her cheeks burn brighter and she smiles shyly. "You are so handsome, Sherlock."

He leans down and hugs her close and she hugs back. "I'm sorry..."

"Shh. I told you, I'm not going anywhere. We have all the time in the world."

Sherlock brushes his thumb over her lips in the most intimate way she has ever felt, and she swallows hard, need welling up inside her. She carefully moves away from him and kisses the top of his hand and he blushes a bit. "I'm s-" He is cut off by Molly pressing a finger to his lips.

"Don't be."

Sherlock swallows and she smiles softly. "I'm going to shower and get ready for bed. Could you just clear the dishes? I can put them in the dishwasher when I get out."

"Yeah, sure Molls." As she leaves the room he sighs, internally scolding himself for not giving himself over to her the way he wants. His body is clearly ready for the next step, but his mind hasn't exactly caught up. Per usual.

Tom takes a large gulp of fresh air and sighs, calling for a cab from the kitchen. He can finally go home to his tiny, insignificant flat in the middle of London and begin his new life. He hoped that his cousin never ever comes back to mess with his life again. He would rather make his deceased father proud. He's a good person inside, but life just had a way of throwing him into his family's unfortunate and disgusting way of life. He's the only one who can make a good name for his own family going forward.

However, his body is wracked with worry as he enters the cab and stares absently out of its window. He heard the news through guard that Sebastian had his own twin brother killed as well when he found out he was getting released from the terrorism charges he was blackmailed into. Tom wracks his hands, concerned about whether he should worry for his own life if they had a sniper stay around for Sullivan. No doubt they know that he betrayed them by talking to New Scotland Yard. Sweating and tired, he sighs and tries to calm himself, trying to convince himself that the threats are over and they are gone for good, or at least for years.

The cabbie pulls up at his little flat, four blocks away from where 221B is, closer to the hustle and bustle of city life. Tom ruffles through his wallet shakily and pulls out bills, paying him and steps out, the sun pouring onto his back. He smiles to himself at the warmth, it's the first time he has smiled since he was forced to break the engagement with Molly Hooper. He looks at the calm pale blue of his front door emblazoned with an "1881" and moves toward it, reaching for the knocker. He had a habit of holding it to steady the door as he turned the key in the lock.

{Operation Magpie is go. xSM}

Suddenly Tom Weston's hope for a new life turns black as his vision. The crack shot, trained by Moran, had taken the final shot for now. Tom's body sags face first against the pale blue door, bright red blood spray all over it, blood and part of his brain pouring from the holes in his head. The bullet had passed straight through the back, through his brain, and out his forehead, lodging deep inside his front door. Onlookers scream in terror at the sight and cower in fear that they may be next.

Moments later police rush to the scene and Detective Inspector Lestrade's car screeches to a halt as he rushes out. Hi face goes slack as he realizes who the victim is.

"Dear God..." he grovels.

Later that evening Greg goes to meet with Mycroft and storms into his office. "Why the bloody hell didn't you have him in witness protection!? You KNEW what happened to the other one and you let it bloody happen to him!"

"Ah, good evening Detective Inspector, how nice to see you as well."

"Cut the niceties, Mycroft. We have been working together in an official capacity for months. I was under the impression he would have been in witness protection, WHY wasn't he?", Greg's anger flares up.

"Well, as you know his family had skipped the country, so there was no plausible threat to..."

"No plausible threat!? Bullshit! You knew that a sniper had killed his other cousin and hadn't been apprehended. You knew there were people still working for Moran scattered around London. So, WHY? If you're so damn bloody /smart/, how could you not put two and two together?

Mycroft sighs. Lestrade clenches his jaw and moves towards him.

"You did know, you just didn't want to save him after the ties he had with his family, after what they did to Sherlock and Molly. YOU got sentimental."

"No."

"Yes! Yes, you did! Go figure the one time you let your guard down it gets a perfectly alright man killed just because of who his family is. You cannot help who your blood is tied to Mycroft, you know that better than anyone! He was a remorseful kid, he was on the road to making himself a better man, to building a normal life for himself. I spoke with him; I could see it. You must remember I'm a pretty good judge of character, I gave your brother a damn chance years ago when you were nowhere to be found for him. /I/ brought him from the brink of an overdose, /I/ took him to rehab, and /I/ gave him a job. Oh, yeah, and /I/ introduced him to his now girlfriend. So, you playing all high and mighty, I've had enough. It's too much. You either do your fucking job, or you don't. You can't pick and choose what lives to save. You're not God! He was thirty-four years old, Mycroft. He was practically a kid. He had an entire plan to rewrite his life and do good to try and balance his family's wrongs. Of course I hate their family. I HATE them for what they did to Molly, and to Sherlock. But this guy never killed anyone, he refused to. He got beat and tortured by his own cousin for it. He was a GOOD soul despite being raised to be bad. Too bad you haven't the slightest clue as to what a soul is."

Mycroft take a swig of his bourbon and sighs. "Are you finished?"

"Yes. I should think so. Now I'm going to go and help the commonwealth plan a funeral because he has no family or real friends. Oh, I'll have to call Sherlock too and let him know not to let Molly go to work tomorrow. No use giving her another panic attack." Greg storms back out in a huff.

Mycroft closes his eyes and reclines in his chair a bit, knowing that in all his worry for Sherlock and Molly, this oversight was a drastic mistake.

Sherlock's phone rings that evening and he glances over at Molly before answering. "Yes, Lestrade?"

"Hey Sherlock."

"I know we don't do social calls so do get to the point." Molly throws him a look and he clears his throat. "I mean...do go on."

"Well I don't have the best news. I mean...not for Molly anyway."

"What is it...?"

"Well...uhh.."

"Lestrade spit it out!"

"Tom was killed today. He was released for his cooperation in recovering Molly and we assume his cousin kept a crack shot behind to finish the job. Shot right outside his flat in broad daylight."

"Oh..." Sherlock's mind battles with itself to choose the right emotion; he, of course is thrilled Tom will never be a nuisance again, but there's a part of him that knew Molly would still be devastated and he wasn't sure how much more shock she could take tonight.

"Yeah...I uh, just wanted you to know so that Molly doesn't go to work tomorrow. Could be more trauma for her...seeing him like...that."

"Right...I'll handle it. Um...thanks, Greg."

"Of course. Bye."

"Bye." Sherlock hangs up slowly, unsure of how to go about telling Molly the news.

"Sherlock?", she asks softly. "What was that about? Do you have another case?"

"No..nothing like that."

"Oh, alright. Well...what is it then?"

Sherlock goes over to her and sits next to her, gently drawing her into his warm and inviting arms. Molly furrows her brow and looks up at him with her curious brown eyes.

"So...Lestrade gave me some news. Probably...er..definitely..bad news. And you shouldn't go to work tomorrow."

"What? Why?"

Sherlock sighs and runs his fingers through his curls. "I don't know how much more of a shock you can take tonight..."

"Sherlock. I'm a big girl. I can handle it. Just tell me, please."

He searches her face for a moment then chews his lip. "Tom...is dead."

She processes for a moment then her face falls and she looks down, wringing her hands and tearing up. Sherlock holds her close.

"Remember how I explained that he was tied to the Morans? How he was Sebastian's cousin? Well...they had him killed, same as Moran's own brother. Tying up loose ends..."

Molly sniffles and tears fall down her face. "H-he was the one that told you all where I was...where...", her voice cracks and she gently cries into his chest. "Oh God...he didn't deserve /that/. I-..."

Sherlock rocks her gently and strokes her hair. "I am sorry...Lestrade doesn't want you to go in tomorrow because...you know."

"The autopsy..."

"Exactly."

"But I have to..I-I have to...or I'll never want to go back, and I have to Sherlock."

"Molly...that's too much, even for you. You knew him, you...you were engaged to him, you loved him in a way."

Tears fall down her face. "He really loved me...that I could tell. He wasn't a bad man...he didn't deserve to be killed. God...if he never met me.."

"Molly, no. Stop that. Right now. I's not your fault. He was probably sent to you from Moran just like Jim used himself with you to get close to me."

Molly looks angry. "Not every man I dated, dated me to get close to you! How dare you say that!"

"No! No, Molly that's not what I mean. I'm just saying Tom because he's a Moran. Plus, he knew where you were, clearly he was working for them. I'm sorry, I don't want to cause you any more pain. I don't Molly."

Tears continue to trickle down her face and she covers it, sobbing softly. "That's not fair. He wasn't supposed to be like that...neither was Jim...I just wanted to be happy. I know I used him too in a way. I never wanted Tom to be killed..."

"I know that, Molly. I know. Com here...I've got you now." Sherlock wraps his arms tightly around her as she buries her face in his chest sadly.

"Life has never been fair to you, and for that I am sorry. I never purposely intended to incorporate myself into how unfairly you have been treated, but I did, and I will always, always regret that. Molly...you did not deserve any of it. None of it. Not from me, not from your mother, not from your exes. You didn't deserve to lose your dad so young, to be assaulted, to lose your child, to go through Uni working more than most grown adults do to pay for it, or to single-handedly raise your brother. You did NOT deserve the hand you were dealt. You are the strongest and more resilient woman that I have ever met, and I can't express to you how much it means to me that you're mine. How grateful I am that you even gave me a chance at all after everything I said to you. You are the most incredible woman and significant other. I'm so grateful you're just here and with me."

Molly sniffles and lies her head on his chest. "Thanks", she whispers.

"Always."

"I love you. I love you so much."

"I love you too."

She sighs and wipes her face with her pajama sleeve. "I need to go to work tomorrow...I'll do the autopsy. I'm a professional, alright? I can handle it."

"Molly..."

"Sherlock."

Sherlock looks at her and sighs. "Are you sure?"

"Positive...I have to. Plus, Carly will be there and...I don't know, in some way it might make it better. I have to have that talk with her too."

"True."

"Then it's settled. I'll be alright, don't worry."

"Mhh, I always worry", he chuckles and kisses her temple.

The next day Matt sits on the sofa, scrolling through the TV channels in the sitting room. He sighs and rubs his face, getting restless with the repetitiveness of the week. Mira going to work, him milling around the house. It's making him stir-crazy! Plus, the flashbacks and nightmares and lack of sleep wasn't helping him any. Getting his coat on, he decides to go for a walk into town to clear his head.

As he walks down the long stretch of sidewalk, he wonders where he would be in his life if he had never enlisted. If he had only stayed and gone to Uni with Mira and if they had begun their life together early. He wouldn't have these deafening nightmares, nor the flashbacks. He wouldn't feel restless all the time or get irritated at the slightest things. He would be a better person, or at least a calmer, more domesticated one. What if he and Molly had known about their little sister sooner? He still can't believe the news that she shared with him last night. Would they have known years ago if he hadn't left after high school?

Looking at the families, the children, the students, and the elderly that walk past, he wishes in a way that he could be in their shoes. Wishes that he ever could have been in their shoes. It's no secret that his childhood was rough, but going from that into the Army...well, that probably was a shit idea, regardless of how proud his father would have been. And what had it gotten him? Yeah, he has the honor of serving his country, but what else? He nearly lost the love of his life, which luckily never came to pass. He's twenty-three and riddled with how the war haunts him every night, he has no college degree for when he finally gets relieved and comes home for real, job hunting will be difficult due to having no experience in anything, and he is terrified of how he could be a stable choice to start a family with whenever he and Mira decide to talk about that.

Matthew runs his hand through his hair and takes a deep breath, worry and anxiety sweeping over him and the sounds and sights of war once again swirling in his head. He can't afford to go into a panic attack. Not right now, not in public. He ducks into the nearest building and swallows when he realizes that it's a pub. "God, I could really, really use a drink", he thinks to himself. He knows he shouldn't, but maybe just one will take the edge off. Plus, it's not like he drinks every day.

Moving up to the counter he orders a beer and pays. As he drinks, he observes his surroundings quietly. Thank God it was pretty quiet, being the middle of the day and all. He tries his hardest to make the memories go away, the visions of his friends and comrades being blown to smithereens vivid and painful each time. When he finally clears his head, he realizes that he's breathing a bit hard and three beers deep. Looking up at the clock, he sees that it has been almost two hours. "What? How is that possible?" He looks at the bartender who asks if he is okay because he seems a bit dazed. Matt nods and groggily steps off the barstool, leaving. What he really wanted to do was keep drinking the memories away, but the voice in the back of his mind wouldn't let him, not now.

Matt makes his way to Mira's office which is a few blocks away and leans on the front desk, asking for her. When he sees her, he grins. "Mira, babe!"

Mira furrows her brow and pulls him aside. "Matty...what are you doing here...oh my God have you been drinking?"

"I got bored and anxious at the house, so I went for a walk and had a few beers, it's fine."

"No, it's not fine and you know why. Tell me what's wrong..."

"It is fine", he rolls his eyes. "You're being dramatic."

She cups his face and looks at him. "Matty. I've known you a long time, and I know when something is up. Come on..." She pulls him to her office and closes the door, sitting him down.

He rubs his face and groans.

"Tell me what's wrong. I love you."

Matty groans louder. "Nothing, nothing's wrong, I'm fine, I'm always fine!"

Mira gently leans down in front of him and takes his hands. "I love you; I want to help you. I've never seen you like this. You never snap, you're never this jittery. I'm here, okay?"

Rubbing his face again, he becomes more agitated. "It's nothing! Nothing different than usual! You leave me all alone at the house and it's quiet and boring and my thoughts hate me and the memories flood back and everything hurts, and they won't go away! Plus, I'm still shocked that my Dad had another kid that I could have been raised around; a sister I could have known for years! So yes, I tried drowning everything out alright? I should be allowed to push shit away for a while and if a few beers help, then goddamn it I'm going to have some!"

She flinches a bit then strokes his arm quietly. Matt looks up at her, tears welling up in his eyes and she cups her face, putting her forehead on his as he breaks down. "I'm here, Matty."

He tries to speak through his sobs and gently pulls her close, clinging to her. "Oh God I'm so sorry...I don't..I don't know what came over me..." He continues to sob into her shoulder. "I didn't know where else to go, please help me...I love you, please...I don't want to be like this." Tears rush down his face and sobs wrack his body. Mira tears up as well and her lip trembles.

"I'm right here Matty...I've got you." She sniffles and strokes his cheek. "What should we do...should we go to the hospital? Is that what you need?"

He cries and cups her cheek. "I don't know...I just want the memories to stop. I-I just want the panic attacks and the nightmares to stop. It hurts too much...please. I'm so tired...I'm so tired..."

Mira cradles him close, rocking him softly for a moment and stroking his hair. "We're going to get you some help, okay? I promise. Cmon, we can go to Bart's. I'll tell me boss it's a family emergency."

Matty sits there quiet and dazed, nodding catatonically. Miranda informs her boss and grabs her stuff, helping Matty to her car and heading to the hospital.

The next day Molly arrives at Bart's for work and situates her things in her office. She prints out the schedule for the day and sighs heavily, seeing Tom's name and information on the spreadsheet. "At least he's after lunch", she thinks to herself. She can only imagine the damage to his brain that a professional sniper's bullet could have caused. Though it will be one of the hardest autopsies for her, it will also be one of her most informative, seeing as (shockingly) she has never had the victim of a sniper on her slab. She is interested to see the impact a high caliber bullet makes on the skull and brain.

"Snap out of it, Molly! This was your damn fiancé. Ex-fiancé. Possibly only fiancé I'll ever have", she mutters as she unlocks all of the cabinets and drawers, and prepares the tables and slabs with sterile scalpels and other equipment.

As she is preparing the morgue, Carly walks in with her pale pink coat and black backpack. "Good Morning Doct-, I mean, Molly", she smiles sweetly.

Molly turn around quickly and looks at her as if she's looking at a ghost- eyes wide and full of wonder, an almost sad look within them. "G-Good morning..."

Carly bites her lip and puts her stuff in Molly's office, hanging up her coat next to hers. She's wearing a pretty striped jumper and black work pants. Coming out of Molly's office, she quickly ties her platinum blonde hair into a nice ponytail.

"Wow...you make that look so easy. If I didn't do mine in the mirror on mornings, I'd have flyaways everywhere."

She giggle softly. "Yeah, well I had a lot of practice, I'm usually putting it up on the bus when I have a football game."

"You play football?"

"Yeah. I'm okay I guess." She chuckles and helps Molly prepare the remaining half of the morgue. Molly can't help but stare.

"She has my nose, well...Dad's nose. Dad's chin. We definitely both got jipped on height, apparently... Her freckles are adorable.", she thinks.

"Are...you okay?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Sorry..."

"It's okay, you're just looking at me kinda weird."

"Apologies. I didn't mean to; I was just thinking."

"Okay."

There is a pause as they work to set up then Molly stops and turns to her. "I just..."

"Yes?", she looks at her hopefully.

Molly bites her lip and hugs her gently but tightly. Carly is a bit shocked but hugs her back the same, closing her eyes. "You know...", she murmurs.

Molly nods and sniffles. "I know...God, yes, I know. I found out yesterday."

Carly tears up and looks at her. "I couldn't believe I had a sister, and a brother...my Mum told me a couple days ago."

A couple tears fall down Molly's face and she gently cups Carly's face. "God...let me look at you...oh, you are so beautiful and so smart. Dad would be so proud of you." Her voice shakes and she strokes away her tears that fall down Carly's cheeks.

Carly hugs her tightly. "I'm glad the truth came out...I always wanted siblings. You're like the coolest sister I ever could have had. I'm shocked that someone else is as intrigued by death as I am...I guess it runs in the family?"

Molly chuckles softly. "Soldiers and Pathologists. What a crazy family we have. What about your Mum?"

"She is actually a dentist", she laughs softly. "Not as morbid."

Molly giggles. "Well, you have great teeth, you're so lucky you don't have braces. Ugh, they're torture."

Carly grins. "Yeah, I'm glad I never needed them. Hey...my Mum would like to see you again. Or meet you formally I guess. If you and Matthew want to come over sometime this week...? She does care about you; she just had no legal power to take care of you back then because Dad died before they got married."

"I heard..."

"Wait...so how did you find out?"

Molly chuckles. "My boyfriend's irritating big brother who works for the government. No idea where he got the info and I'm not exactly interested. I have learned not to question him too deeply. He's kinda intimidating."

"Wow he works for the government? That's cool. How's your boyfriend? I don't have one yet...I'm kinda really shy at school."

She grins and gently squeezes her shoulder. "So was I, and that's okay. Oh um, my boyfriend's name is Sherlock."

Carly's jaw drops a bit.

"Yes, Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock. It took him years and years to face that he had feelings for me. Truthfully, I think it's still an uphill battle", she chuckles. "But he's worth it. I'm the only one who sees his sweet side, so it's nice."

"Wowww...Sherlock Holmes is your boyfriend. Holy crap."

Molly snorts. "You can meet him sometime! But right now we need to get ready for autopsies."

"Right." Carly smiles happily. "I'm glad we met, Molly. I'm glad you're my sister."

"Me too Carly. You're an amazing girl."

Suddenly Molly's cell phone rings in her pocket and she sighs. "Probably Sherlock. He can be quite clingy when he's bored." Molly and Carly laugh softly and she answers.

"Hello...Mira? Okay, okay, slow down a second. Yeah...yeah...oh no...yeah just bring him in and tell them how he was acting and that he is active military. I'll be up in a little while between autopsies. Okay, yeah just stay with him. Mmhm...okay, bye."

Carly furrows her brow and looks at Molly. Molly swallows and looks at her phone.

"What was that? If...if you don't mind me asking."

"Matty is being admitted upstairs. Our brother. Apparently, he had a bit of a breakdown and a bad panic attack today. He's has some PTSD and I'm afraid that it is really affecting him. That's what I didn't want to happen, but I suppose it's unavoidable. If he's feeling himself later on today though, you can meet him if you'd like."

She nods a bit and looks concerned. "Will he be okay?"

"I hope so...he's just having a tough time. I bet with a lot of people around him that he cares about, we can get him through it though. Plus, I'm sure he'd like to meet you."

Carly bites her lip. "Okay...see how he is later, and maybe I'll go up and wish him well."

Molly nods and smiles as the first body is rolled into the morgue.