"You're staying at 221B." Sherlock insisted, scowling at Molly from where he stood in the middle of her sitting room floor. He had just come back from the crime scene, and had confirmed that the man who was found dead was the same one he and John had talked to earlier in the day.
John nodded; he was both weary and worried. "I know it's not terribly convenient, Molly. But you have to admit, having Colin with you makes you a target." Seeing Molly's hesitation, he added, "If you're not worried for yourself, then do it for Colin."
That got to her. "Fine. Just…just give me a moment to pack, all right?"
Relieved, John nodded. "Where's the kid?"
"He'd just finished his bath. We were getting him ready for bed." She answered wearily.
"Have you told him about his uncle yet?" The doctor continued, seeing Molly's stress in the tension on her shoulders.
Molly shook her head no. "I didn't know how. When you left with Lestrade he started talking, remembering things from that day I found him at Tesco. He said Phil was with him and his mum, and that when his mum had disappeared inside a black car, Phil told him they were playing hide and seek and that it was Colin's turn to go inside and hide."
Sherlock rushed to stand in front of her, his nervous energy back in full force. "I think I know what's going on. Hurry up and pack your things." He pushed Molly in the direction of her bedroom and turned his head to look at John, "You go help Colin with his things. Hurry!"
They found the British Government waiting for them in the sitting room.
Mrs. Hudson had left Mycroft sitting comfortably in Sherlock's seat, a plate of biscuits and a cup of tea on the table beside him. He nodded in John's direction, and stood up when Molly entered with the sleepy Colin.
He gave her a crooked smile. "Miss Hooper."
"It's Doctor Hooper. Honestly, brother, you're age is showing." Sherlock removed his coat and scarf, turned to take Molly's and Colin's and hung them up. "Molly, you and Colin can take my room." Seeing Molly about to protest, he added, "I'm not planning on getting any sleep anyway. I'd much rather stay on the couch."
Molly nodded, and John led them towards Sherlock's bedroom.
Left alone with his brother, Sherlock walked over to the window and grabbed his violin, putting it upright on his lap and plucking at the strings thoughtfully. "Tell me about Lily Barker."
John had hurried back out, followed by a stressed looking Molly. The doctor strode into the kitchen to check whether they had any food leftover for dinner, while Molly hesitated, unable to decide where to sit.
Sherlock raised a hand and waved her over, moving to make room for her on the couch. When she obliged, he sat just a little bit closer, so that their arms and shoulders were touching even as he kept his hold on his violin.
Mycroft raised an eyebrow at his brother's actions but said nothing. "She used to work for MI6. She was recently relocated when a…project…she was involved in was compromised."
Having searched for food in vain, John had settled for a cup of tea and sat himself down on his chair across from Mycroft. "You mean Colin's mum was one of your people?"
The older Holmes frowned. "Not directly." He took a sip from his cup. "I was not informed of the child's existence until this morning."
Sherlock laughed. "Oh, this is marvellous. All that access and one of your own manages to hide the fact that she has a child." He turned to his brother, "You're slipping, brother dear."
Mycroft bit back a retort. "She does not report to me, brother dear," he smirked, "I was merely called in when they failed at their mission and I had to clean up the mess that was left behind."
Strange family. Molly thought, a crease on her forehead. She'd had plenty of opportunities to interact with Sherlock's brother during the time of his supposed 'death'. It had not lessened her amazement at the two of them. While one had invented a unique job for himself to be able to utilize his genius, the other was apparently a very powerful man who managed to run the country while remaining anonymous.
"She's disappeared, hasn't she?" Sherlock said, turning his attention back to his violin.
John coughed, nearly choking on his tea. "You don't mean…?"
Sherlock shook his head slightly, squinting his eyes. "No, no! She didn't kill her own brother. The carving on the chest was too messy, the man was strangled before he was dumped, and the body would have been too heavy for her to move alone. The evidence at the crime scene contradicts the presence of anyone other than a single assailant."
"Who did, then?" Molly chirped in, tense with worry.
Mycroft held out a manila folder he'd had tucked to his side. "When Lily Barker disappeared from custody, I had my people pull up information on her. Aside from her son and her brother, there's a former lover; a man named Horace Williams. Apparently he was a soldier she'd met about four years ago. He was dishonourably discharged from the Army a few months into their relationship and she left him about a week after that."
The consulting detective hummed as he glanced over the file, which included a picture, and handed it to John, who had gotten up from his seat to stand next to him, reading over his shoulder.
"He does resemble Colin a bit." John said, and to which Molly agreed. Those eyes were unmistakable. "Have you located him?"
"We know where he was last seen, yes." Mycroft took a sip of his tea. "I've been informed that Ms. Barker heavily objected to being reloca- - -" he was cut off when his phone rang. He frowned, but answered the call. After listening for a few moments, he clicked it and turned back to them. "They have Ms. Barker in custody. She is downstairs at the moment."
Molly glanced at Sherlock anxiously. Noticing, the detective spoke. "Don't bring her here. We'll talk to her in the car."
Mycroft nodded and stood, taking his umbrella and leading the way out. John followed, with Sherlock right behind. Molly, uncertain, rose but stayed put. She wanted to meet Colin's mum, but was hesitant to leave the boy alone in the flat. He might wake up, she worried. Torn between curiosity and concern, she didn't notice Sherlock come near until he was standing directly in front of her.
"Stay here with Colin." He said, softly. "I'll let you know how it goes when we return." He crouched so that their eyes were level and his hands were on her shoulders.
When Molly nodded, he turned to go, but she reached out a hand and pulled on his sleeve. "Thank you." She said, and gave him a peck on the cheek.
Sherlock nodded, pleased, then walked down the stairs and outside to where Mycroft's customary black car waited, parked at the curb.
Molly woke up the next day and panicked when she saw that Colin was no longer beside her on the bed. Before she could call out, however, Sherlock walked in and stretched out beside her, his hands under his chin.
"He's outside, watching telly with John." He remarked, eyes on the ceiling.
"Oh." Molly's heart thundered. She was in bed with Sherlock Holmes. Granted, the circumstances were hardly romantic, but still. "What time is it?" She asked, trying to calm herself down.
"Nine o' clock." He answered then turned his head to look at her. "She's going to take Colin, Molly. She's waiting outside." Sherlock eyed Molly's features, watching closely as he saw her features go from sleepy to nervous to surprised and then to saddened. He knew that the short time she had spent with the child had been enough to make her grow fond of Colin. She looked almost as bad as this when her cat, Toby, had died of old age a month ago, and she had had that cat for years.
"But how do you know that it's okay for Colin to be with her?" Molly asked, desperately. She felt horrible asking the question. Lily Barker was Colin's mum, after all.
Sherlock sighed, and took her hand in one his own. "She didn't have anything to do with her brother's death. She didn't even know he'd died until we told her last night. Horace Williams, on the other hand, had disappeared, and Lestrade said Horace and the uncle were seen together shortly before Phil was found dead. Apparently he'd had a history of violence which pervaded even his relationship with Ms. Barker. She'd left him when she found out she was pregnant, but did not inform her superiors of his threats since she'd been too afraid to lose her job. They had been explicitly instructed to avoid romantic relationships, and she didn't know any other way of making money. She'd been living with her older brother Phil, so as to have someone look after Colin whenever she was gone for work." He paused, and looked at her intently.
Molly nodded, urging him to continue.
He turned back to face the ceiling. "When Mycroft's men took her to have her relocated, she'd escaped at the earliest opportunity to try and take her son with her. The only reason she hasn't been given Colin yet is because we needed to verify her account and make sure everything checks out. That and the fact that John insisted you'd want to be able to say goodbye properly." He looked at her then. "Sentiment, I suppose."
"Yes. Thanks." Molly nodded. She knew that she had no right to demand even that, they weren't even related. "When he goes with her…" she hesitated, she knew what the answer would be, but needed to hear him say it. "…will we be able to see him again?"
When Sherlock shook his head, Molly could not help her tears.
Alarmed and unsure what to do, Sherlock sat up and gathered her in his arms, awkwardly patting her back. She'd cried in his presence before, but he had never had to comfort her, at least not in his present capacity as her boyfriend.
"I know it's silly. I'm sorry." Molly covered her face with her hands. Sherlock agreed, but decided to bite his tongue. John would have been proud.
Molly stood on the curb outside of 221B, waving to the black car which held Colin and his mum. Mycroft had had Anthea take Lily Barker to Baker Street that morning, and it was all Molly can do to keep her composure as she said goodbye. Feeling Sherlock's presence behind her, she turned, and smiled at him through the tears which had been threatening to spill over ever since Colin had embraced her tightly, thanking her for the pirate ship and asking her to keep his eye patch safe for him.
"Are you sure you want to go back to work today?" Sherlock asked, his hands clasped behind him, his face in a frown.
"Yes. I'll be fine." She insisted. She gave him a small kiss goodbye, and then walked to her car and opened it, slipping in behind the steering wheel. She'd decided to leave early so that she could drop by her flat and have time to herself; she didn't want to cry in front of Sherlock twice in one morning.
Arriving at her flat, she walked around to the back of her car to take out the bag of clothes she'd packed for herself. She was opening the door to the back seat when a hand grabbed her from behind and she felt the cold blade of a knife press against her throat.