With the new evidence gathered from the late Mrs. Holmes' body, Mycroft's resources were able to wrap up the nearly ten year old mystery in a relatively short period. Weeks passed; the funeral for Kate Holmes was attended by friends and family, all trying to buoy Sherlock and make sure this fresh reopening of grief didn't break his willpower and provoke a relapse. However, many were surprised at the new-appearing understanding between the Holmes brothers. Whatever wall had been between them seemed to have crumbled along with Sherlock's biggest emotional barriers upon the revelations in the morgue, and Mycroft started to become a more regular figure around Baker Street, even after the initial criminal case against the murderers was settled.
This was the reason that it was no great surprise that, after a rather mundane case had been wrapped up with Lestrade, John and Sherlock returned to Baker Street to the sight of Mycroft sitting in John's chair, manila folder held securely in his lap.
"Mycroft," John greeted as he passed into the kitchen, making tea already first in his mind. "Want a cuppa?"
"No thank you, Dr. Watson." He stood and passed the file to Sherlock, just as the younger man settled into his own chair. At Sherlock's questioning look, he continued, "William John Hamish Ezard, nine years old, son of Alan and Sylvia Ezard." He continued with highlights while Sherlock began to frantically flip through the folder's contents. Even John was distracted from his tea as he came to read the folder over Sherlock's shoulder, as Mycroft continued, leaning on his umbrella just slightly. "Adopted at three months old after being found outside an orphanage with a note saying, 'WIlliam John Hamish.' They thought that Hamish was his last name, not a middle name, and so it hadn't been flagged properly in our search. He now has a little sister, Valentine Ezard, adopted as an infant four years ago."
"Are we sure it's him?" John asked.
"I had a DNA test done before I ever brought the folder here. Didn't want false hopes, now, did we?" He smiled thinly. "It is him. He is safe and has been loved for nine years, Sherlock."
"They look after him, love him?" Sherlock asked.
"All evidence points to his having been loved by his adopted parents very much… before they died two weeks ago."
John and Sherlock's head pivoted to stare at Mycroft.
"Motor vehicle accident- not my doing, I assure you. Thankfully, the children were not with them at the time. He's in foster care until he can be placed."
"I'll take them," Sherlock said, voice muffled as he set back to ruffling through his son's file.
"Take them?"
"Yes, take them, my son and his sister. I want them to come live with me. What's so difficult to understand about that?"
"I can understand wanting the one, but both? Sherlock-" Mycroft flicked his eyes to the ceiling, exasperated.
"They may not be related to each other by blood but four years is more than enough time to grow very attached to each other, and I will not be the one responsible for removing one more loved one out of my son's life! I want to look after him, not traumatize him further!"
Subdued by his brother's conviction- he was nearly shouting by the time he finished- and his reasoning, Mycroft simply nodded his head. "I'll get in touch with the local council then, shall I?"
Sherlock nodded, more meekly than his previous anger would indicate possible. "And I'll start making up their room."
Molly couldn't decide if her heart was breaking or rejoicing at any given moment- maybe it was both. Once news of Sherlock's son had made its way to her, she, like the others in their small circle of friends, wanted to do a little something for the two children that, hopefully, would soon be residents of 221B Baker Street.
They all watched Sherlock make over the flat inch by inch in preparation- new dining table and fridge, the entire kitchen cleared of toxic materials, in fact. John's old room was made over with space enough for two. Sherlock's love of dogs and bees made its way into the children's room, even while he got blue sheets for Valentine's bed and bright yellow for Hamish's (their respective favorite colors, of course, what sort of detective doesn't do his research, after all?). And yes, apparently, his son was called, not William, nor John, but Hamish, which suited Sherlock just fine. Molly remembered the look on John Watson's face when he told her. His disbelief that another kid got saddled with that name, by Sherlock of all people (basically) was comical. She struggled not to laugh as he ranted about "Why couldn't people just give their children normal names" and "Of course, a Holmes would want to pick some obscure, archaic name!" The children hadn't even arrived yet, it was not even confirmed that they would arrive (the courts hadn't decided to release custody yet), and yet Molly could see all the love that Sherlock had always kept stored up inside as it poured out. And yet, her heart broke, for herself, and Sherlock, too. To hear that not only had Sherlock been unavailable the whole time, but, if he ever did feel ready for another romantic relationship, he already had feelings for someone? Well, she wanted him to be happy, somehow, but it didn't hurt any less that he would never be happy with her. And, while Sherlock was generally consumed with either work or preparing the flat, in the still moments, the sadness at the loss of his wife showed through, and that broke Molly's heart, too. No one ever wants to see those they love in pain, and if her grief losing him to another woman was only a fraction of his from losing his wife, she honestly didn't know how he managed to get up in the morning. To think that he had always carried some pain of this loss as long as she had known him, and no one had ever thought to ask why! Heaven help Sherlock if the judge decided that Sherlock wouldn't get custody. Molly didn't think she could stand to see Sherlock's heart break just that little bit further.
That's why, as she sat in the gallery of the courtroom, she was on pins and needles, as she saw the custody hearing play out.
Going in, most thought this would be easily handled; the boy was Sherlock's son, who was essentially stolen from him- though Kate had surrendered him willingly, it seemed likely it was just to keep the child out of the hands of kidnappers, and no one wants to split up siblings. Yet, after picking apart Sherlock's life and past and several chosen witnesses, including John, Mycroft, and Greg, Molly herself was called to give a character testimony herself. Nervously, she made her way to the witness box, and answered some preliminary questions. She couldn't help but think that the questions they were asking and the way the questions were asked were more fitting for a murder trial thatn a custody placement. Didn't they want the children housed with someone who would love them?
"Dr. Hooper," the barrister asked. Molly snapped out of her mind back to the courtroom. She could tell that the man was irritated. She must have missed the question the first time. "You are aware that, in the last few years, Mr. Holmes has faked his death, quite publicly, been shot and nearly killed," Molly's knuckles tightened on the arms of her chair, "and had a massive drug use problem, also quite publicly. And that is only what he has done in public. With a record like that, why should he be given the care of not one but two children? How can we trust him with something so precious?"
This was the first time this question was asked to anyone, including Sherlock. She couldn't help thinking saving it for last on the last witness had to be to try to unsettle her. But, as she saw Sherlock drop his head in shame and near defeat- surely feeling that question couldn't be salvaged, and the judge had seemed so set against him from the start- Molly realized that this was, in fact, the easiest question she had been asked yet.
"Because he loves," she answered.
"I'm sorry?"
"Because he loves," she repeated. "I know others see those instances, and they may see recklessness or lack of care, but I know him, and I know why he did those things, because there were people he was protecting that meant more to him than his own life, more than his reputation or comfort, more than anything else in the world to him." While she looked the cross barrister in the eye while she spoke, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sherlock's head slowly raise in surprise. "It's why I know he would make a great father, because he doesn't love many, but those he loves, he will do anything for, no matter what it costs him. Under that cool exterior is a heart that is kind and warm and generous and forgiving and loving and anyone who is lucky enough to be loved by him," she paused to blink back tears, "well, anyone loved by him is lucky enough."
The surprised barrister and judge released her to her seat, and she kept a watery smile on her face as she sat down. The judge called for a recess as he made his deliberations, and she promptly excused herself to wash her face of the tear tracks she wouldn't be able to hold off much longer. When she came back, a pale Sherlock was just barely keeping himself from pacing, bouncing his knee and clenching and unclenching his fists as he tried to keep from running nervous hands through properly coiffed hair. Molly didn't often think of God but watching the man she loved worry so much for the sake of love, she couldn't help but pray that, somehow, he would be able to keep these two children that he already loved so much, though he had hardly met them.
They all rose in pregnant silence as the judge returned.
Molly's heart raced as the judge paused. "In the case of W. Holmes applying for custody of William and Valentine Ezard- the court grants foster custody, acknowledging Holmes' intent to adopt." While the judge tried to keep talking about a one month probationary period and random home checks in the immediate future, all those in the Holmes party seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief. Sherlock even had tears streaming from his eyes as he held his brother close in a celebratory hug and the largest smile Molly had ever seen splitting his face.
A few author's notes: I was planning on uploading this chapter later today, but I got notification about a new follower, so I thought, forget it, we're doing it now! See, reader interaction does help make your wishes come true! Thank you so much to my lovely commenters from the first chapter; unfortunately settings wouldn't allow for me to respond to you directly, but your comments were appreciated all the same! Also, thanks to a commenter on this story on Ao3, I remembered that there was another story that I wanted to acknowledge; I'm note sure I would call that story a direct inspiration for this one- because this story was rattling around in my head for a very long time before I actually wrote it, so it's hard to say if there was an original inspiration- but All of Me by consulting_fangirl on Ao3 is another story that I read and loved in which Sherlock is a widower. It's all angst, rated T, and a great read, if very sad.
As for this chapter, so the kids are coming to Baker Street! What do you think of that? What did you think of everyone's reactions to the kids? How did you like the courtroom scene? Or Molly's little speech? Did anyone catch the references to other work of Benedict's? Let me know if you did!