Author's Note:

Next chapter things get interesting again! As usual, thank you to everyone who has been reviewing!

"Sherlock?" Mycroft moved slowly into the kitchen, now holding Amy who was awake and staring up at her Uncle blankly. "Is everything with John alright? We're just a bit worried." He smiled weakly and diverted his attention as a small fist lifted and fell again. "Mum wants to know if tomorrow is good for..." He cleared his throat.

Sherlock put the phone away and sat at the table quietly, until his older brother came in. "Hm? Oh, everything is fine. Yes, tomorrow would be good. Could you watch Amy for awhile? I just need some time alone. I'll meet you back at the flat later, okay?" He got up out of the chair and began moving to get around Mycroft.

Mycroft took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes. "Where are you going? You didn't have plans today." He moved in front of Sherlock's path and studied his younger brother. "We still have the wedding to discuss, Sherlock. We don't have time for you to run off for a quick nicotine fix."

"The plans are mostly complete. The rest of the planning can keep for a few more days. Or you and Mum can finish planning it. It isn't like you guys really care about my input anyway. Most of it I just agree to just to humor Mummy." Sherlock tried once more to get around his older brother.

Mycroft hesitated before letting Sherlock around him, looking at him for a long moment before nodding. "We will wait. See you in, what, an hour? Amy will be waiting." He smiled and rocked the little bundle before turning back toward the sitting room. "Don't be gone too long, Sherlock. You've got a daughter now. You can't just pawn her off on your family."

An hour? Sherlock merely nodded as he moved around his older brother. Ignoring his mother calling his name, he left the mansion.

"Mycroft? Where is your brother going? Is everything all right?" Nancy asked her eldest son when she came in the kitchen.

"He said he had somewhere to go," Mycroft replied softly, glancing down at Amy with a small frown. He knew. He was Sherlock's older brother, he had to know. Keeping it from Mum was the best thing he could do right now. Don't worry her. She already had enough going on. "Frustrated, I think. It is understandable given the situation. With Dad gone, John almost gone, and caring for Amy? On top of that he isn't so keen on planning for the wedding. I think he wanted something simple." He forced a tight-lipped smile as he sat down next to his Mother and looked over at her.

Nancy narrowed her eyes in thought. "Simpler? Mycroft, I swear if your younger brother gets addicted to drugs again, I'm holding you accountable. You hear me? You know he doesn't deal with things easily. Its why he started in the first place..." She trailed off with a frown. Rebounding quickly, she straightened and left to spend some time alone in her bedroom.

Leave it to Mum to know exactly what was going on. Wonderful. Mycroft watched her leave and looked down at Amy. "One Dad is in the hospital and the other is running off getting high. You are in for quite the bumpy ride, I think," he muttered as he managed to grab his mobile from inside his suit jacket. He didn't hesitate and dialed Sherlock's number, swallowing hard. Be a good older brother. "Sherlock," he paused. "Don't. Mum knows. Come back."

Sherlock had just gotten out of the cab when his cell phone rang. His brother of course. For a moment he almost ignored it, but ended up answering it on the last ring. He didn't reply for a long while. "She would..." He sighed. "I don't want to finish the wedding plans. Just do it without me. I'll just go back to the flat."

Mycroft paused for a long moment. "Amy?" He asked softly. This was making him nervous. His younger brother was clean, had been since John had come into his life. One little set back and suddenly he was willing to waste everything for a fix. "You will lose everything if you do this. Amy, John." He sighed. "One fix isn't worth it."

"Perhaps, but maybe they would be better off without me...it would be safer, they would be safer." Sherlock was quiet a moment after that. "I'll be at the flat. There isn't anything there. If you don't trust me, you can always have Mrs. Hudson check up on me." The hotel was right there. It would be easy just to walk in. Instead, he hailed for another cabbie.

While Sherlock's logic was flawed, because it really was, Mycroft could see his standpoint. "I understand that is how you feel but maybe you should let John give you some input on that? Taking yourself out of his life without his consent probably isn't the best thing you could do. Especially now, Sherlock. The man isn't doing well. If you stay away from drugs for any reason, make it him. He needs you now more than ever, even if he isn't willing to admit it." It made him glance at Lestrade, who was now holding Amy, and smile. "Just think about him. What would he be doing if you were in his spot?"

"Mycroft! Just shut it already. I'm not going to do it. I just want space to breathe for five seconds. So just sod off and quit trying to tell me how to run my life!" Sherlock ended the phone call, and got in the taxi angrily. He muttered his address, paid the cabbie when the vehicle came to a stop and stomped up the stairs. His feet would pay for the later, he supposed.

John had napped, fitful and loud. Nurses came in constantly to wake up him and remind him where he was. He had given up on sleeping fifteen minutes ago, electing to stay away until they put him under for surgery. In his panic of the possible addiction to any drugs he had waived off his pain medication. He was certainly feeling it. Two ribs broken and making just breathing hurt. Just thinking of Sherlock wasn't enough. He knew he could call him. Needed to call him. He dialed the number without a second thought. "I love you," he blurted out, words slurred together in pain.

Sherlock was in his room and about to take two pills of the pain medication to induce a long sleep but his phone rang. He checked the caller ID before answering. "I love you too. Is everything okay, John?"

"Pain," John whispered with a whine. He was scared. Alone. Afraid. Had they managed to kill everybody? Had some of the Russian men gotten away? Maybe the drugs had been serving more of a purpose than just dulling physical pain. "Scared. I can't even sleep." He was crying, silently, and trying to keep himself calm. Crying would only hurt his chest more. "I want to be home."

"John. Everything will be fine. You are safe now. The funeral is tomorrow and I will take the first flight out as soon as it is over. I will be right there when you wake up and you will see there is nothing to worry about." Sherlock wasn't sure if what he said would help. He was frustrated with this entire situation.

Tomorrow. John took a hesitant breath and closed his eyes with a soft groan. He was close to seeing Sherlock. "Yeah," he whispered and smiled weakly. Soldier up, be strong. "How are you?" It was quiet in the background so Amy probably wasn't with him. Maybe the other man would open up a bit more without the little girl there.

"Everything is fine. You know. The usual. Mycroft tries to dictate my life and I tell him off." Sherlock attempted to make it sound humorous despite it being true. "But we get into a row all the time, so nothing to worry about." Distraction. Needed to make John smile and put him at ease. "The wedding plans are almost done."

"Are they?" John sounded excited and even managed a smile. "Your Mum wants me to wear a white tuxedo. So, does that make me the wife in this relationship?" He asked with a laugh that ended in a sharp hiss. Despite Sherlock's obvious disdain for the ceremony, John was excited. Everybody would know how much he loved Sherlock. It would be there for everybody to see. "Are you excited?"

"Well, you are the submissive so it would make sense." Sherlock managed to smirk, as he finally started to relax. "Well, the ceremony has all the bells and whistles. Things like fondue and chocolate fountains, and of course an open bar. I could do without all that, honestly. Mum insists on it. I'm excited about getting married to a certain sex driven army doctor though." Another smirk etched his lips.

"We split that role and you know it," John shot back. It was clear through his tone that he was grinning, ignoring the fact that he had reopened the cut on his bottom lip. "Black is slimming and that is the last thing you need." Sherlock was teasing him, making him blush and squirm. "Not sex driven so much as... excited about certain activities with a lovely consulting detective." He took a shuddering breath and turned away from the phone to let out a soft whimper at the pain.

"We only split the role because I let you. If I wanted to, I could have control all the time." The smirk on his lips grew, even though it couldn't be seen. God, Sherlock had needed this conversation. Even though they were apart, John seemed to know when to call at all the right times. "Yes, well I like to keep things interesting. Just imagine all the things we are going to do after we are married my dear doctor."

"That's bullshit and you know it," John replied with a weak laugh. "You let me take control because you like it. You like seeing me in power." His voice dropped an octave and he shifted on the bed with a small sigh of relief. Even just his hospital gown was providing enough friction on his erection. "I'm going to tie you up and make you beg using just my mouth." He smirked. Even in pain and stressed he could play these little games with Sherlock.

"I have no idea what you are talking about." John was of course right, even though Sherlock wouldn't admit. "You think so, hm? We will see about that my Captain. Also, you better be careful. This conversation could lead to things we agreed not to do."

"I don't care. I have got a bit of self control. I have no problem telling you what will happen on our wedding night." John shifted slowly to sit up better, his heart monitor making him wince as it picked up. "You know what I can do with my mouth. I'm going to have control all night. You are going to love it and the entire house is going to hear you." A pause as he smirked, clearly enjoying himself. "Because after I have heard you talk I've decided you must do it every time."

"Don't care? Does that mean if I told you that when I get to the hospital, I'm going to take advantage of your fragile state and kiss and tease you all over. My tongue in your ear, on your neck. That's okay to do? Because I can keep going if you want." Sherlock smirked, shifting on the bed so that he was now laying down on it since it was a more comfortable position.

Just the thought of Sherlock doing that made him breathe a little harder, his chest protesting to the sudden change. "I certainly wouldn't object. My doctors might, though. I've got more than a few things wrong with me." John smiled softly. Sherlock would be with him tomorrow. When he woke up his fiancé would be in the same room. "I would probably give you a hand job anyway. Can't keep my hands off you." It was slowly becoming obvious that John had restarted his morphine drip.

"You do that, and I'll have to reciprocate with something else. Does this mean waiting until the wedding night is off the table?" Sherlock wouldn't mind that at all. After all the stress just in one day, it would be nice to relieve some of it. For now, his fiancé should get some rest before his surgery. "John, you should try and get some sleep. And next time you wake up, I will be there."

"Should wait," John mumbled. "But you sound stressed so you can touch yourself." There was a long pause before John spoke again. His thoughts were simple again. The world was blurry around the edges and warm. "Okay. I will see you tomorrow. I love you." He ended the call with a painful yawn.

I think Amy misses you. -MH

Sherlock put the phone on night stand next to the bed just a few seconds before it vibrated to life. His brother. Of course.

I'm at home. You can drop her off if you want. –SH

With having little Sandi to take care of, he wouldn't be able to take the pain medication for his feet since it induced a heavy sleep. With a sigh, he got up and threw the pills in the trash. He walked out to the living room and slumped into his chair. Hamish immediately jumped in his lap. Shifting slightly, he reached over and grabbed his violin and began playing it.

We can keep her. Sleep. See you tomorrow. 11 in the morning. Your flight is scheduled for 1. -MH

Mycroft sent the text and held Amy close to his chest, looking at her with a soft smile. "Spending a little more time with Uncle Mycroft," he whispered as she eagerly sucked at her bottle. "We will see Papa tomorrow."

For awhile Sherlock played his violin while Hamish slept on his lap. After putting the instrument away he began petting the cat. The feline woke up, meowed loudly and ran to the kitchen. "Of course, if I'm not taking care of one child I'm taking care of another." He got up off the chair and entered the next room. He opened the fridge and the fuzzy creature jumped onto his shoulder. He fed the cat and then sat back in his chair. He wasn't tired. Too much was on his mind.

Time went by slowly, as he sat in his chair all night. Eventually it was almost ten in the morning. He got up from the chair, stretching his cramped limbs. He showered, put foot ointment on, and a fresh pair of clothes. He wore his best suit, minus a tie. Sherlock left the flat, took a cabbie to his mother's, walked up to the front door and then went inside.

Mycroft watched his younger brother for a long moment, eyes already red and puffy, and holding Amy intently in his arms. She was already napping, keen to keep herself curling against the warmth of her Uncle's chest. The manor was big enough that Siger's funeral was being held there, in the backyard. Strange and different, just like the Holmes'. "Morning," he whispered hoarsely. It was hard to tell if Sherlock had even slept the night before, he was so decent at hiding it. "How are you?"

"Here, I'll take her." Sherlock took the sleeping infant and he rocked little Sandi gently to help keep her calm and sleeping. "I'm fine."

Nancy came in, wearing a long black dress with a black veil over her face. "Sherlock, tell me you didn't."

The younger Holmes brother gave a weak smile. "No Mum, I didn't."

"Atta' boy. Your brother will be giving a eulogy first and then you."

"What? No. Public speeches really aren't…"

"Sherlock! You will say nice things about your father. It is only right. Come along you two."

With a sigh, he looked to Mycroft and then followed after their mother.

Mycroft stood slowly, laughing softly as he pulled a speech from his pocket. "Wrote two, if you want one," he whispered, glancing at his younger brother with a smirk. It was the most humor they could get in that situation. "Talks about Peaches," he added with another laugh. There was a long pause and he reached out to lay his hand gently between Sherlock's shoulder blades. "I'm proud of you."

Amy turned slightly, her face scrunching much like her father's at the feeling of Sherlock's voice vibrating through his chest. Her hand grabbed at an opening in his shirt, settling on top of a button.

Sherlock gave a small smirk and shook his head at his older brother. "I'm sure I can think of something on my own." He looked down to little Sandi stirring in his arms. "Shhh. Baby girl, it's okay. Sleep peacefully." He continued to rock the infant in his arms, hoping to get the little girl to settle down.

Mycroft shrugged and shoved the second speech in the jacket of his suit coat. "I'm sure you can. She has been bathed, changed, and fed, by the way." He motioned his head toward Amy. "And she hasn't cried much. I will hold onto her during your speech." He took his seat in the front row of all the chairs, a simple urn situated in the front with dog tags hanging around it. "There will be a car waiting for you when we are done. I have been told John's surgery is going well."

Sherlock nodded and followed after his brother, sitting next to Mycroft. Their mother was on the other side of the eldest Holmes brother. He only half listened to the ceremony being given about their father. He was only really at the funeral because it was expected of him and he knew by not showing would disappoint and upset his mother. He was trying to think of something vaguely pleasant to say about his father. He was certain Mycroft would have tons to say about the Old Man.

By the time Mycroft stood he was already struggling to keep himself composed. He stood beside what was left of his father, taking a deep breath and spreading out a worn piece of paper on the podium. "My Dad was... a very proud man." He took a deep breath and laughed softly. "Which is exactly how every speech has started out. It sounded a bit better in my head." He glanced at the urn and nodded surely. "There isn't much to say about him because everything he did has already been shared or can be remembered. I just want the world to know that he died doing something so unselfish that I will forever be proud to call Siger Holmes my Father. He was saving an entire company of men, not thinking about himself but about those who needed his help." He glanced at Sherlock. "If only he would have thought like that when he decided to flush my fish when I was seven." Soft laughter spread through the crowd. "So, thank you for everything, Dad. I hope to keep making you proud." He nodded and folded up the speech, falling into his chair with a rough sigh, holding his arms out for Amy. He was shocked that the little girl was still asleep.

Sherlock gave little Sandi to Mycroft and walked up front. He was quiet longer than what was probably to be expected but he still hadn't thought of anything to say. There were some coughs and clearing of throats from the people seated and staring at him expectantly. "As many of you may know, Dad and I didn't exactly get along. But…he was a good man. He was stubborn, more stubborn than I am believe or not." He gave a small smirk. "He died doing what he loved. He wouldn't want us to mourn his death but honor it. So, thank you Dad for your years of service you gave." He almost said for saving his fiancé's life but wasn't sure if that would be considered proper decorum at a memorial service. He gave a small smile and then sat back down. Hopefully that had been appropriate enough.

Mycroft smiled at his younger brother and rocked Amy. The little girl's eyes had blinked open and she was narrowing them against the brightness of the sun. "Good. That was good," he whispered, looking at Sherlock. It was the most he could expect from the man who didn't really like his father. "It is all talking now, getting up and milling around and hugging random people. You can go. By the time you get to the hospital he will be out of surgery." He glanced up with a smile as Amy let out a small squeak.

"That sounds boring," Sherlock replied with a faint smile. He glanced down to little Sandi. "I'll be home later baby girl. I will bring Daddy home with me and you won't be stuck with Uncle Mycroft and Uncle Lestrade anymore. Try not to give them too much trouble, although I wouldn't blame you if you did." He glanced up to his older brother with a smirk. He turned to look at his Mum. "I'll be gone until John is able to come home. Make sure Mycroft takes care of Amy properly." He gave her smile and a quick peck on the cheek, before getting up and leaving. He took the waiting car, stopped briefly at the flat to get luggage and then went to the airport. He was restless on the flight and was happy when the plane finally landed. He found the hospital John was at and after talking to a nurse, found the room he was in. He walked in quietly, a suitcase dragging behind him and a satchel over his shoulder. He left the luggage by the door, and took a seat in the chair next to the bed.