"Derren Brown?!" Greg exclaimed incredulously, looking towards the man who had once been his colleague, gesturing with his Styrofoam cup of coffee. Anderson had become more and more obsessed with his theories on how Sherlock had 'cheated death', and how he was now running around Europe and Russia taking on more and more bad guys, "Let it go, Sherlock's dead."
"Is he?" Anderson countered, pointing at Lestrade like just him countering the denial would somehow make Greg believe him.
It didn't, "There was a body. It was him. It was definitely him. Molly Hooper laid him out." He replied firmly before taking a sip of the coffee he had bought during Anderson's 'explanation' on how Sherlock had survived that fall. He had been adamant Sherlock wasn't dead for quite some time now, but the theories had been coming fast as of late, and all because of the Moriarty case coming to a head. The court had ruled in Sherlock's favour, cleared of all suspicion of creating Moriarty but it all came two years too late.
"No, she's lying." Anderson dismissed, "It was Jim Moriarty's body with a mask on."
"A mask?!" Greg cried but Anderson just nodded eagerly, "A bungee rope, a mask, Derren Brown. Two years, and the theories keep getting more stupid. How many more've you got for me today?" Anderson beamed, like he actually believed Greg was interested in any of his theories about Sherlock. Instead, as he stepped closer, Greg just grew more and more frustrated by the man in front of him.
"Well, you know the paving slabs in the whole area - even the exact ones that he landed on - you know they were all..."
"Guilt." Greg snapped, interrupting him. Anderson shook his head, but even as he tried to deny it, he could no longer look Greg in the eye, "That's all this is. You pushed us all into thinking that Sherlock was a fraud, you and Donovan. You did this, and it killed him, and he's staying dead." He made to start walking away, but his anger and grief at losing his friend - and the fact that he'd believed them in their accusations for even a moment - had him turning back with a glare, "Do you honestly believe that if you have enough stupid theories, it's gonna change what really happened?" With that he started to walk away, sipping at the coffee he no longer wanted.
"I believe in Sherlock Holmes." Anderson called, his voice slightly shaky but full of his conviction that Sherlock just couldn't have been dead.
"Well, tell me this." Greg replied, turning and pointing his cup at him, "We all watched Faye mourn. She had a kid. She's never been well, and everyone knows it. Would Sherlock have really left her in the dark?" Anderson didn't answer, because he couldn't. Faye had started up their club, but even she had stopped showing up. He put it down to having a little girl to look after, but that little girl was growing every day and Sherlock still hadn't shown up to see his daughter, "You've yet to answer that one, haven't you?"
"I believe in Sherlock Holmes." Anderson reiterated firmly and Greg just looked at him pitifully.
"Yeah, well that won't bring him back."
~0~0~0~
Faye had thought that the day Moriarty was finally officially blamed for all the horrid things he had done would have been a joyous one. Full of sunny skies and birds cheeping, glasses of wine and time spent with her secret husband no one knew about apart from them and his brother.
Instead, the sky was grey, the outside world was cold and the flat was no better. She could rectify the no wine situation very easily, if she could just calm down her daughter, who had started to fall into her 'temper tantrum' stage a lot earlier than she had expected. Wasn't it supposed to be the 'Terrible Twos', not the 'Terrible One-And-A-Halfs'.
"Bella, that's enough!" She snapped, coming to the end of her tether as the little girl chucked a rather large plastic toy car across the room. So far she had been ignoring her as she adorably stamped her feet.
"Bored!" The little girl cried, "Bored, mummy, bored!" She sighed in frustration, rubbing her eyes. That was her father. It was completely Sherlock's fault she had learnt that horrid word, and now she wouldn't let it go. She walked over to her daughter, smiling as she crouched down to the eye level of the grouchy girl.
"Why don't we get your wellies on and go out?" She suggested in her happiest voice, "Go to the shops?"
The toddler thought about it very deliberately for a moment, "John?" She asked and Faye shook her head.
"Uncle John's coming later, remember?" She reminded her, "We need to be good before then, otherwise he won't." Oh, that had been the wrong thing to say. Bella's face scrunched up again just as her mobile rang across the room on the dining table. Faye picked up her daughter, balancing her on her hip as she headed over. That better be Sherlock, she hadn't heard from him since he'd appeared after her day in court, he'd not even spent the night. That had been weeks ago, and it wasn't helping her patience at all.
She sighed, bouncing a crying Bella with one arm as she held the phone to her ear, "Mycroft, this is a really bad time." She told her friend.
"Ah, I see she's still misbehaving." He drawled and she rolled her eyes.
"Yes, thank you Mycroft." She snapped, "I'm guessing you didn't just call to belittle my parenting."
"I thought you would like to know we have located Sherlock once again." He told her and she paused in her pacing, frowning.
"'Located'?" She repeated, "As in 'we lost Sherlock but found him again'? I thought you were keeping an eye on him."
"We lost contact somewhere in sound east Austria, but managed to find him in a bunker with some rather nefarious individuals in Serbia." He explained offhandedly and she growled slightly.
"You didn't think to tell me that you lost my husband?" She asked lowly.
"Sherlock disappears for weeks on end, I didn't think it was worth reporting." She took a deep breath, trying to calm down once again before grinning evilly to herself. She pulled the phone away and put it on speaker phone.
"Look, Bella." She told the girl in her other arm, "Uncle Mycroft is calling you."
"Faye, what are you doing?" Mycroft asked and Bella's face lit up like she'd suddenly been given exactly everything she had wanted.
"Mikey!" She cried happily, "Mikey, Mikey, Mikey!"
"Why is she calling me that?" He asked Faye but Faye just shot her daughter a joyful grin.
"That's right, Bella!" She cheered, walking her over to their sofa and sitting her down on the soft cushions, "It's Uncle Mikey!"
"Mikey!" She cheered again before babbling away to the voice she had instantly recognised, even if she didn't quite understand where it was coming from.
"Why is she calling me that, Faye?" He asked again, "My name is Mycroft, it's not that hard to pronounce, even for a toddler."
"She was struggling with the disappearance of her father, so I stopped correcting her." She replied pointedly, "If only I'd had something to tell her, maybe she wouldn't have learnt it at all." She placed a kiss on her daughter's curly brown hair, "Be good for Uncle Mikey while I get ready, Bella." And she left them to it, Mycroft trying to correct Bella while the girl paid no attention whatsoever.
~0~0~0~
John paced the front room of 221B, checking himself in the mirror again and again. He was suited up, which he'd never been comfortable with and he hadn't warn one since Sherlock's funeral. He pulled at the tie, why did these things always seem so tight?
A giggle from next to him turned his attention from how ridiculous he looked to the beautiful baby girl on the floor next to him. Well, she wasn't a baby anymore, not really. Her curly hair was really starting to come through, and her eyes were still so much like her father's that it occasionally took him by surprise. He beamed as he scooped her up in his arms and she giggled again.
"You think I look stupid as well, don't you?" He asked, "That's why you're laughing at me." She babbled at him, random noises punctuated with his name. Then, she reached out and tried to grab his moustache, pulling at it like she was trying to rip it off, "Ow, ow, let go of that Bella." He told her, shifting her so he could take her hand off his face, "It doesn't come off; we've talked about this."
"She doesn't like it." Faye told him as she headed from her bedroom with the engagement ring box, swapping it for her daughter, "Mrs Hudson's right, it ages you incredibly."
"Mary likes it, so it's staying." He told her as he pocketed the ring. He took a deep breath, "Right, I can do this." He declared and she grinned at him.
"Of course you can!" She promised, pulling him in for a hug and squeezing the little girl between them, "You know she'll say yes, you'll live happily ever after and produce me some playmates for Bella."
"What if she doesn't?" He asked and she rolled her eyes; this wasn't the first time he'd asked her that.
"She will." She told him firmly and Bella babbled again, "See? Even Bella agrees." She reached out, awkwardly straightening his tie with one hand, "You ring me, right? The moment she says yes. Before you put that ring on her finger, I expect a phone call off you both." He chuckled, placing a kiss on her cheek. What would have done without her, really? Both mother and child had given him a reason to continue after Sherlock's death, having made it through purely because they had both needed him. Because of that, he'd met Mary and it was the best thing to come out of such a terrible tragedy.
She scrunched her face, hating the feel of his facial hair against her cheek, and she batted him away, "Go on! Get out of my flat. You're dirtying up the place." He barked out a laugh and headed to the door.
"You know you love me, Newbarns." He called and she tried not to wince at the use of her last name. It shouldn't have been Newbarns, but the attempt to be 'Mary' instead had petered out as well. Nothing was right, she was still in limbo after all this time.
"Not as much as you love me, Watson." She called after him as the door shut. She put Bella back on the floor, the child immediately heading to her toys, as she went to grab her phone. John wasn't the only person she was expecting a phone call from. Mycroft had told her Sherlock was back in the country yesterday, but he hadn't contacted her once since then. And it wasn't like she could just call him, either. His numbers were all so temporary, the one she had in her phone had only been there a few weeks and it was already out of service. She had to wait for him.
She tapped the phone against her lips, "Where is daddy at, eh?" She called over.
"Bored!" Bella replied happily, placing with one of her meerkats and Faye laughed.
"Probably." She agreed, "Right, let's get you so supper. I'm thinking rusks and milk."
~0~0~0~
Bella was tucked up in bed, and Faye had her phone waiting in her hand for when either of the two men who were supposed to contact her decided to ring her. She was actually more anxious for John to call her, she knew Mary would say yes in a heartbeat but also to know that she had would have been a relief. Sherlock, on the other hand was in the country and with Mycroft so she was just waiting for him to remember to let her know he was okay. He'd argue that Mycroft already did, but would eventually, almost begrudgingly, ring her to tell her he would be round soon enough.
The telly that night was particularly crap, so after flicking through rerun after rerun, she had settled for some panel show goodness on Dave. Then the door downstairs slammed open and she was on her feet, rushing to the door to make sure Mrs Hudson was okay. Footsteps rang up the hallway, and she realised that maybe it was her and Bella she should have been looking out for.
Her front door was thrown open and in stormed an absolutely furious looking John Watson, followed by an exasperated Mary.
"What's going on?" Faye asked as John proceeded to pace back and forth, "I thought you two were at dinner?"
"We were!" John snapped, "Oh, I'm going to kill him. I'm going wring his scrawny little neck!" And that was all she got, John mumbling to himself as he paced her floor. She turned to Mary looking for an explanation.
Mary held her hands up, rejecting any responsibility from herself, "I'm not the one to tell you." She explained and Faye rolled her eyes.
"Will someone please tell me why you're storming into my flat?!" She exclaimed and John paused in front of her. He looked overwhelmed in his anger, like he couldn't process anything as he stared at her. She frowned at the red mark on his forehead, "What did you do to your head?" She asked, more concerned than angry now. He didn't reply, he looked over at Mary, looking for help but she just shrugged.
"Sherlock turned up at dinner." He told her apologetically, hating that she had been lied to as well, "Sherlock's alive."
~0~0~0~
I need to apologise again and again for being so long with this last chapter! I never meant to drop this, but then one month became two and... Well, if any of you are still interested, here it is!
You've all been wonderful, I hope you don't feel let down by my lack of attention on it. Faye disappeared from me completely, but I can slowly feeling her return. Yes, I will be doing Season 3, but I'm going to give myself a couple of months before I post it, so don't expect it too soon.
Thank you all, old and new readers alike, for sticking with me and I hope you enjoyed it :)
