Finally chapter ten is done and all I can say is that it was a doozy to write. I wrote up the beginning part of the chapter only to stop because I couldn't think of what Mycroft should say next, so I extended the beginning by adding another scene before Sherlock's brother shows up and then I still got stuck because of trying to figure out how to have him correctly play of Sherlock. For some reason writing Sherlock and Molly are proving to be the two easiest canon character's to write so far. Well enough of my rambling.

Bullocks: a falsehood or series of lies.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock and make zero profit from this

14 weeks since Sherlock faked his death and 11 weeks pregnant

Chapter 10: Close Call

Git…stupid… and naturally the word idiot were just a few of the words that rang through Sherlock's subconscious mind as he lay with his back against the alleyway that his lanky body currently occupied. The large green dumpster that he was leaning against was the only thing that provided his long limbs even with his legs tucked into his chest as they were, from the eyes of the occasionally pedestrian that walked past the alley's entrance. Rushed intakes of breath came from his lungs as he peered out through the crack behind the dumpster, checking for the figures who just minutes before had been hot on his tail after firing a shot into his… well, he wasn't really sure where.

He had been too preoccupied as it were with trying to escape with his life intact after his attempt at hunting down Moriarty's second in command had gone horribly wrong. For just as surely Moriarty had been the brains of his outfit then Sebastian Moran or the Hound as he was more properly known, was the Braun. He was commanding, intelligent, and as Sherlock had clearly underestimated based on the intense pain coursing through his body, quite handy with a gun.

There were three shots Sherlock noticed taking stock of himself one in his left shoulder and the other in leg. And the third he wasn't really sure were? But, damn did it hurt as he heard the sound of his brother's secretary answering the phone that he had just finished dialing, for emergency purposes.

"Hello," she said.

He wasn't sure what his response was, but he was pretty sure it was something along the line of "I've been shot." But, then again he couldn't be sure as he wasn't sure which of the two phones he was speaking into or when the ground and the sky suddenly switched their position. All he knew was that he'd never get to see Molly wearing the item he'd given her in exchange for the gold bow that had gone with the dress she wore at last year's Christmas party if he was dead.

"Git, idiot…" The words that had been only in his mind before were now very real as Sherlock awoke to the shouting of his older brothers, Mycroft ranting about the room. He could also hear the voice of the doctor speaking as he tried to coax his brother down from whatever fit of rage he had gotten himself into. As Sherlock's eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room in which he found himself he could see fresh specks of blood dotting the doctor's once clean white coat. His blood, if the bucket on the floor in which lay several metal crowns their ends tinged red among the white squares of discarded cloth and the stitching in his leg, shoulder, and his chest were anything to go by.

Mycroft slumped steadily into one of the chairs that the room provided, his cane following suit as he ran his hands over his face with an agitated sigh.

"Well hello to you too," Sherlock said.

"Sherlock what were you thinking?"

That was indeed the question, what had he been thinking when he allowed himself to get hit with not one, but three bullets he could have had otherwise avoided. "Don't know, I got bored or waiting around for you to give the okay."

"Got bored of waiting around, don't know. Why that's bloody bollock's Sherlock, instead of waiting for my signal you ran into gun match and for what some random figure of the street."

"Okay I thought it was someone I knew, so I made a mistake, I slipped up. There are you happy now!" Sherlock grunted as he turned his body over so that his back was facing his brother.

Mycroft huffed as he stood up. "Look I have done what you asked delivered that package for you but, what I will not..." He paused for a moment to consider his next choice of words before he spoke and made his way over to the open door grasping the edge of the handle in his hands. "I already buried one brother Sherlock; I will not do so again." With that he slammed the door behind him after telling Sherlock to get some rest.

That's what it always came down to the third Holmes brother and why Sherlock decided for now he would stuff the memory of the person he cared most about into the corners of his mind place. These memories and the feelings he would only open once he again graced the halls of 221B. After all, it wouldn't do either of them any good for Mycroft or his enemies to figure out that the person he thought he had seen was one Miss Molly Hooper.

Its not too late to submit guesses for what is in the package Sherlock gave Molly also I will be having a contest for who can correctly guess the item that is in the package. One guess per account is allowed and the winner will get to choose of one of the adoptable Furbat's which I am going to post on my deviantart account tomorrow. For which the account name is ClevLanders.

I am also having a contest for who can correctly guess the name of Sherlock and Molly's bundle of joy as I already have a name in mind. However, the winner will have the honor of naming my character's first pet who is as of now a currently yet to be named duck.

To start you off here is a clue about my character's first name: All of the letters can be found throughout his father's first two names. (To make it fair only one guess is allowed per clue).