Notes: Hello you wonderful readers. I am uploading this from isolation due to Covid 19. This has been sat on my laptop for a little while waiting to go up but I've been so busy with other things now seems a better time than any to do that.

Disclaimer All that is Canon belongs to Gatiss, Moffat and the BBC and anyone I don't know about. The only characters I own are Sam and Jen. This chapter does contain dialogue from the episode so please don't sue me.

A little heads up with a few feature chapters, i have speed up the timeline of series two. This is to help my story progress a tad bit quicker. (Thought the speed sadly doesn't help with the amount writing )

So onto News Years Eve. Enjoy!

Sherlock had been playing the violin for almost the entire week, and John was getting worried. Molly had reassured him he was fine when he stayed over at her place. Even somehow make it up with Sam. 'At least one good thing is happening in his life' John thought to himself.

Maybe Sam was the one who could get through to him? John mused to himself. He'd been meaning to contact her for a few days. A text he had received left him questioning this and knowing Sherlock was in no fit state to talk Sam was the next best thing.

Is it possible to meet up? I'm worried about your Dad - JW

I'm not doing anything, and Mum is at work. David my bodyguard says it's okay, just send us a time and place - S

Thirty minutes later, John, Sam, and David were in Speedy's. "So, you wanted to talk to me?" Sam said, putting John on the spot.

"Yes, you see I got this text a few weeks ago, and I wasn't sure what it meant. I have a feeling you will." John took his phone out of his pocket.

Reaching for the phone, Sam quickly read the text.

Woman and child have met. Holmes brothers can't know! - D

"I don't know anyone who signs off text D. Also Holmes brothers can't know, I didn't tell either your uncle or - "

"I know who sent it," Sam said, looking unimpressed at David.

"Sam, I had to let someone know for your safety."

Sam continued to stare at David in her most threatening manner.

"I heard what Irene said through a microphone in your wheelchair. I couldn't risk telling

Mycroft or your parents. So I chose John."

"There's a microphone in my wheelchair? Mycroft and I will have some strong words later."

"So you are the child mentioned in the text?" John asked.

"Yes," Sam confirmed.

"So The Woman was ...?"

"Irene." Sam finished for him.

"Irene contacted you?"

"No, she visited me at school and before that turned up at the hospital when only Sherlock was with me. She was at the door of my room. Sherlock walked to it but by the time he got there she was gone."

"Oh, My god! What happened when she visited you at school?"

Sam took a deep breath. "She wanted a chat. Told me I needed to get Sherlock to text her back. Then a few days later she texted me saying I must have Sherlock send it by Christmas Eve."

"Bloody hell!" John exclaimed. "You're just a kid."

"That's the price of being me and having Sherlock Holmes and Molly Hooper as parents."

John sighed for a moment.

"I realise now she wasn't talking about you or my family. People I care about." Sam said looking at him.

"What do you mean?" John asked.

"She only said it to make it more urgent in my mind. What if she needed Sherlock to text back because her life depended on it? I mean look at it now she's dead."

John thought for a moment trying to take in everything Sam had just said. 'What would Sherlock say in this situation? What would he do?' John did not understand.

"What if … I'm the reason she's dead?"

"Sam you were never a part of this," David told her.

"I don't think it would be a good idea to tell Sherlock about all of this for now," Sam said to John.

John felt caught in the middle. He wanted his flatmate's daughter safe but at the same time didn't know if passing on the information would be a good idea. It could just be the last thing to push him over the edge. "I think that is a good plan."

"How is he?"

John remembered back to the morning and leaving him composing. Even Mrs Hudson seemed to notice that he wasn't okay but put it down to Sherlock being Sherlock. How could he tell this little girl that her dad wasn't okay? "He seems, er, not okay."

Sam nodded her head. "I had a feeling. He hasn't been in contact for a few days. Your blog was still the same, so no new case was happening. It was an easy guess. Has he been like this before?"

His mind went back to asking Mrs Hudson the same question. Looking at Sam he realised now Molly would have been the closet Sherlock ever had to a relationship, but that didn't seem like a topic he could bring up easily. Especially now. "I don't know. I don't really know him, I guess."

"Guess that makes two of us." Sam quipped. "I would go up and see him, but I feel this is his way of taking some space and doing what he needs."

"Are you sure? I mean I'm sure he would want to -"

"No, John, I know what he's going through. When he needs us he will let us know in his own way. He needs to work that out for himself."

David checked his watch. "We need to get heading back Sam. Your mum will finish work soon and be wondering where you are."

Sam finished her drink. "Okay."

John walked with them out on to the street, watching as David and Sam got in the car. "See you later, Sam."

"If things get worse with him and he goes to the… send him my way, tell him to go to Mum's flat instead of that."

John nodded. "Okay, I will."

"Thank you, John." Sam climbed into the back of the car. Looking up briefly she saw Sherlock with his violin in hand and a sadness on his face. She caught his eye and for a moment they shared a smile.

John waved the car away, he was about to walk away, down the street to buy some food for the flat when a woman called his name.

"John?"

"Yeah?" he turned his head as he tried to walk away. "Hello. Hello"

She walked towards him. "So, any plans for New Year tonight?"

John stammered for a moment. "Um, uh, nothing fixed. Nothing I couldn't heartlessly abandon, yeah. Any idea?"

"One," she said as a car pulled up taking the space of the car Sam had driven away in.

John's face dropped. "You know, Mycroft could just phone me, if he didn't have this bloody stupid power complex."

From the moment he got out of the car, John felt his world go upside down and now a ghost was standing before him.

"Tell him you're alive." John stared blankly at Irene.

"He'd come after me," Irene stated.

John felt his anger rise. "I'll come after you if you don't."

"Hmm, I believe you."

"You were dead on a slab. It was definitely you."

"DNA tests are only as good as the records you keep."

"Oh, and I bet you know the record-keeper."

"I know what he likes, and I needed to disappear."

"Then how come I can see you, and I don't even want to?" John still couldn't believe what was in front of his eyes.

"Look, I made a mistake," Irene admitted. "I sent something to Sherlock for safe-keeping and now I need it back, so I need your help."

John shook his head. "No."

John stood there longer while Irene requested his help. He almost walked away but forced himself back as Irene read her texts out loud. It relieved him when she finally texted the detective. Though his anger soon returned when he heard a moan echo around the empty building. The text alert. Sherlock had followed him - he knew everything.

Stepping forward John went to follow him. Irene put her hand out to stop him. "I don't think so, do you?"

"While I'm here, I want to say on behalf of Sherlock, leave Sam alone."

"Oh, told you did she about our little chat?"

"Only that you threatened her and now she thinks your death is her fault."

"Funny how Holmes's think my death is their fault. Must be a family trait."

John put his face close to Irene and spoke calmly with clear rage. "However angry Sherlock is now; it will be much worse if he knows you have had contact with his daughter. Even Sherlock himself doesn't know the level of anger he will reach." He walked away from her, not looking back once.

"But John."

John ignored the woman, his mind set on heading back to Baker Street with the hopes of Sherlock being there. He was sacred for Sherlock. Knowing Irene was alive, this was going to push him over the edge.

Getting back to Baker Street, he didn't expect to have to treat Mrs Hudson after her ordeals with the Americans who tried to harm her. Though he could tell Sherlock was in a better mood after throwing their leader out the window more than a dozen times. A part of him wished he had gotten a picture of Greg's face when he saw the condition the man was in.

He was pleased Mrs Hudson was okay and even though he insisted she go spend some time with her sister, Sherlock and his landlady were having none of it.

When Sherlock and John were alone in the flat, it felt like the perfect time to mention the elephant in the room.

John watched Sherlock take off his Belstaff. "Where is it now?"

"Where no one will look." Sherlock picked up his violin.

"Whatever's on that phone is more than just pictures."

"Yes, it is." Sherlock tuned his violin.

John couldn't help himself, he needed to ask the next question. "So, she's alive then. How are we feeling about?"

In the distance, Big Ben chimed, bringing in the New Year.

"Happy New Year, John."

"Do you think you'll be seeing her again?"

Sherlock again ignored the question and started to play Auld Lang Syne. John sat back in his chair nursing a drink after the hectic day. When Sherlock finished playing, he grabbed his coat and headed out the door.

"Go to Sam," John said, not looking at him but at his drink.

The detective didn't speak but stared at the back of John's head.

"I saw her earlier, she said to choose to go to Molly's if you need… well, you know anyway."

Sherlock nodded his head even though John couldn't see him and continued his way out of Baker Street on to the cold streets of London.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket he texted.

Happy New Year SH

Sam was asleep on the sofa when he made it to Molly's. He wondered if this was becoming a habit or Sam's subtle way of saying she needed a more comfortable mattress. Gently he kicked off his shoes and left them by her wheelchair and hung his coat on the stand by the front door.

He walked over to Sam and gently woke her up. "Happy New Year, Sam."

Sam stretched and spoke in a sleepy voice. "Happy New Year, Sherlock." A yawn quickly escaped her mouth.

"What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I was waiting for Mum; they called her in, emergency at work at around five. She told me she hoped to be back in time for the countdown. I guess I fell asleep."

"I think you should head to bed. I will tell her you waited up for her when she gets in."

"Okay."

Sherlock picked up her crutches that were lying next to the sofa and handed them to his daughter, putting the crutches together so she could push herself up.

"Do you need anything?" Sherlock couldn't help but ask.

"Would you mind getting my night water bottle out of the fridge? It is blue, it should be on the left-hand side. I would carry it, but crutches are a bit in the way."

"It's fine." Sherlock walked to the fridge whilst his daughter headed to her room. He quickly found the bottle where Sam said it would be. Shutting the door he made his way to Sam's room.

Sam was sat on her bed waiting for him when he handed her the bottle. "Thanks."

He watched her take her tablets and remained quiet until she put the bottle on the bedside table. "She's alive."

Sam gave him a confused expression. "You've lost me. Who's alive?"

"That Woman. The one your mother had to do the autopsy for on Christmas Eve."

"Oh," Sam said. "So what does this mean?"

"It means nothing. At least nothing that you have to worry about."

Sam lay her head down but took a moment before pulling the duvet over her. This gave her time to think if she should tell Sherlock about her meeting with Irene. His expression. The hurt and confusion of being lied to were noticeable to her. It was there on his face, hidden to all bar the few who could see him. There were some things Sherlock Holmes didn't need to know. "Okay."

Sherlock turned to walk out of the room when a question stopped him.

"Will you be here in the morning?"

He wasn't sure he could tell in the way Sam asked if she wanted him to be. Staying the night wouldn't be much of a problem and he knew he wouldn't have his brother tracking him for the whole of the night. He had clothes here. "Yes, I will, now get some sleep you need it."

"Night, Sherlock."

Sherlock shut the door to Sam's room and walked into the living room area. He set out to prepare the sofa to sleep, grabbing the pillow from the airing cupboard he used a week ago then grabbing his pyjamas in the top drawer from Molly's room. Changing in the bathroom he decided against having a shower. He needed sleep.

Back in the living room he neatly folded his clothes and left them next to the sofa. He grabbed the blanket Sam had been using and draped it over himself. Sleep took him quickly.

"No, don't come back don't hurt him. REDBEARD! REDBEARD! COME BACK!"

"Sherlock! Wake up, it's just a dream."

Sherlock's eyes snapped open. He sat up quickly, gasping for air, pushing the blanket off himself. He saw Molly knelt down next to him with her hand on his shoulder. "Molly?"

"It's okay, Sherlock you were just having a nightmare."

"I was?"

"Yes. I didn't know you still had those?"

"They happen occasionally." He brought the blanket up to wipe away the sweat on his forehead.

"It sounds like they are getting bad again."

"It's fine," Sherlock lied. "Sam waited up for you, but she was asleep when I got here."

"She tried to stay up for me?"

Sherlock nodded. "Yes. I found her here on the sofa. Woke up when I walked in, and I suggested she head to her bed and I would let you know she tried to stay up for you."

"Thanks, it's what I would have done."

Sherlock felt a bit of pride knowing he and Molly would have done the same thing in an area of parenting. "She asked if I would be here in the morning. I told her I would."

"I don't mind you staying over." Molly bit her lip, deciding how to word what she would say next.

"Sherlock would you want to sleep in my bed tonight? I know when we were in Uni you said nightmares were not as bad when you slept next to someone."

Silence hung between them for a moment.

"Or you could take my bed and I will sleep here on the sofa," Molly spoke, trying to give Sherlock more of an option.

"I would like that," Sherlock said, getting up from the sofa and walking into her room.

'Looks like everybody will get a go on the sofa tonight,' Molly silently thought to herself.

Molly followed him, grabbing her pyjamas and quickly using the en-suite to change. When she walked back into her room, she saw that Sherlock was lying down on the side she never slept on. "Night," she whispered to him as she headed out to the sofa.

"Aren't you staying?" Sherlock gestured to the spot next to him.

"I can if you want me to."

Sherlock nodded his head and pulled back the duvet for Molly to join him. Even though there was no one else in the room, Molly looked around the room to see if there was anyone watching her. Slowly, she walked over and climbed into the bed next to him.

"This takes me back." Molly tried to joke. "Didn't think I'd end the year in bed with you."

"Start the year." Sherlock corrected. "It is a new year, Molly Hooper."

Molly rolled onto her side so she could face him. "So it is."

"Molly, this isn't me picking up where we left off."

"I know, Sherlock. Something happened today I had a text from John saying you might be here."

"The person from Christmas Eve. She's not dead. She's actually alive."

"How do you feel about that?"

"I don't."

Molly rolled her eyes. "It's okay to feel, you know."

"Mrs Hudson was held at gunpoint today," Sherlock said, changing the topic.

"What?" Molly said shocked. "Is she okay?"

"Yes. Mrs Hudson is tougher than most people think. Never underestimate that woman."

"I won't." Molly looked at him and pushed his hair away from his forehead, something she did all those years ago.

"I need to use the lab."

"I'm there tomorrow morning. Just me, no one will bother you, and I can stay out of the way if you'd like."

"You are never in the way." Sherlock looked at her blankly. "You let me get on with my work without asking stupid questions."

"Are you talking about Anderson?"

Sherlock laughed. "How could you tell?"

"Lucky guess. Well, I'll be out early."

"I will join you."

Molly rolled over with her back now to Sherlock, trying to get comfortable before sleep. "Okay. Happy New Year, Sherlock."

"Happy New Year, Molly Hooper."

Sam woke early the next morning and headed to the loo. She noticed Sherlock's clothes neatly on the floor by the sofa. Molly's room had the door open slightly, and as she got closer to her mum's bedroom she could she two people in the bed. She could spot Sherlock's hair a mile off, popping out from beneath the blanket.

Quickly heading to the loo she knew on her way back she didn't want to make any noise that would wake her parents. As she headed back to her room, she took one more look into her mum's room. From what she could tell, they both looked comfortable. Turning around, she went back to her room. Grabbing her phone she sent a quick few texts to her closet friend.

My parents are in bed together!

Not like that!

Like asleep

Together!

Is this the start of something new? I mean it was New Year's Eve, minus the karaoke and ski lodge.

Too soon to hope they will get back together.

After waiting for a few minutes for a reply, Sam quickly realized it was too early. Jen would text when she woke up. Putting her head back on the pillow, she hoped to have a few more hours sleep

Notes: Oh so what do you think of that ending (and the whole chapter)

If like me you are in self-isolation how about giving a review. It won't cure Covid 19 but it sure will help us both pass the time.

As always thank you goodshipsherlollipop for beta reading this for me. I am so grateful