Pacing about the apartment, Sherlock's mind wandered through the various details of the case. Two dead bodies. Moriarty somewhere out there. The taunting video. John and Mary—no, the two victims. Them. The two people he'd cared for most…

He couldn't let himself think like this. No. Sherlock tried to disconnect, tried to pull back. But it did no good. He was unable to pull his heart out of the equation for this particular case, even if he wanted his brain to have sole focus.

Still, there were elements that were distracting him. Ones he could perhaps finish thinking about before moving on. Without another thought Sherlock found his phone from where he'd thrown it earlier and dialed his brother.

"Two calls in a week, brother mine, isn't this a record?" Mycroft said from the other end.

"Oh don't be smart, Mycroft," Sherlock grumbled. "I'm calling about Alex. I want to know where he's been placed."

"And why would that be? Of what use is a toddler to you?"

"He's almost six, clearly not a toddler, and I was wondering if it's possible he heard anything from Moriarty when the man kidnapped his parents."

Mycroft was silent a moment. "That is a possibility. They're trying to find a family to place him with, looking for an ideal situation for him."

Sherlock frowned. "What? Who are the boy's next guardians? Didn't John and Mary leave instruction?"

Mycroft let out a long sigh. "Sherlock, think about it, Mary has no family, John has only his sister who is an alcoholic with no control over her addiction, not at all suitable for children. There is no one. He will be placed somewhere for prospective adoption. He's young; he'll probably find a very loving family."

"But surely John and Mary listed someone to care for him?" Sherlock remembered the way Mary would kiss Alex's cheek, the way John held him to his chest when he carried him. Clear signs of affection and care. There was no way they'd have left him without some plan.

"Yes they did, but that option has been ruled unsuitable. And besides, it was never legally confirmed. They were in the process of making adjustments to the will."

"Who was it? Why aren't their wishes being respected, legal confirmation aside?"

Mycroft was likely rubbing his temple based on the strain in his voice. "Sherlock, I really don't see why it matters. I can have the boy brought over for an interview sometime. I'll let you know when he's placed somewhere as well if that helps you in some capacity."

"Why won't you tell me?" Sherlock said. "It had to be a friend if not a family member. Some mate of John's then? Mary probably would have had more reliable people in her life, so I don't see why they wouldn't be able to find someone appropriate."

"You're not going to drop this," Mycroft stated.

"No, I want to know what's wrong with their decision. I wish John and Mary's wishes to be fulfilled."

"If you must know, Sherlock, the person listed is…you."

There was a long moment where it felt like someone had taken hold of his brain and ordered it to stop working. A moment of utter inability to process, his mind freezing up to an extent that he almost was concerned he'd misheard.

"So yes, that is why such a placement has been ruled unsuitable. You must understand, Sherlock, you're not an ideal person to care for a child. With all the problems with drugs, your general lack of hygiene and the hazards of your flat, your inability to care for yourself at times…no a child would not be well suited to being your ward."

"They…they never even asked me," Sherlock murmured.

"Of course not, they were in the process of changing it," Mycroft said. "They probably were going to soon. Though for the life of me I cannot comprehend why they did so in the first place."

Sherlock let his thoughts drift over the past few weeks. John had been by the flat a few days ago.

"So…you know how Alex has really started to like you?" John said. "Every time he's over to see you he won't stop talking about it after. He adores you, Sherlock. I think you're like his new hero."

"Hmm?"

"Well, Mary and I've been thinking…you've done so well with him, see…and…well you do like him somewhat, don't you, Sherlock?"

"He's tolerable for a child."

"Well…Mary and I are looking for—" he broke off looking at his phone. "Shoot, problem at the clinic. I have to go. I'll be back to talk with you later, all right? This is important, so we'll find a time in the next few days, yes?"

He'd ignored that. He hadn't realized at the time. No, that had been it. That had been when John was trying to inform him that he and Mary were reconsidering where they'd send Alex if something happened. And they thought of him somehow. Sure, he'd watched Alex a few times, but guardianship? He thought back to John's wedding all those years before.

"You're my best friend," John had said.

But did that mean this role of responsibility? Taking in a child? Caring for it, feeding it, loving…loving it. Could he do that?

"I want…I want to try, Mycroft. John wanted this, I…If he believed me capable then I don't see why not. I've been clean for almost a year now."

Mycroft sighed. "I feared this might happen. Sherlock, just because John somehow deluded himself into thinking your babysitting skills proved you capable of parenthood does not mean that you should go through with this. There are other options."

"Other options that will keep him away from Moriarty?" Sherlock countered, slamming his hand down on the table. "For god's sake, Mycroft, think of that at least. He'll want to kill the boy too."

"And your clear interest in the child will only further motivate him, haven't you considered this, Sherlock? He'll prove even more of a weak spot for you, an even better target." Mycroft sighed again. Sherlock pictured him rubbing his temple, eyes closed.

"I want to do this, Mycroft. Let him stay with me for a while, send people to evaluate me and if I'm deemed unfit…he can go elsewhere. But for a time let me try!"

Mycroft probably was pulling at his hair. Sherlock almost smiled, though he decided against it in case his brother deduced such.

"Fine. We can attempt a trial. But if I so much as suspect you've relapsed I will have him pulled. Protecting him from Moriarty, yes that is important. But even more so you need to protect him from yourself. This isn't going to be easy, brother. I hope you don't have any misguided notions of this being as simple as other things you've done before. You may be a genius, Sherlock, but parenting requires a whole new set of skills you likely don't yet possess."

"Hmm, we'll see," Sherlock muttered. "Bring him by first thing tomorrow."

"You'd best have the place ready by then, if that's the case," Mycroft said, and Sherlock almost though the caught a hint of enjoyment in his brother's voice. "Oh yes, don't be fooled. With a trial comes inspections of the child's living environment. You'll be expected to keep the place tidy, not leave body parts lying about or any other potentially dangerous items or substances. Best wishes to you, brother. I look forward to seeing you in your new role as daddy."

"Yes yes. Any leads on Moriarty?"

"None at the moment. I will inform you the moment I find something, though I suspect at this point you'll be ahead of me in that respect. We're quite busy at the moment dealing with the Larsen Scandal from last week. I promise I am doing my best. But this man is elusive. We'd practically thought him dead for the last five years with his sudden disappearance again. Whatever he was doing, he's built up new safe havens for himself far better than those of before."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and hung up. He smiled before glancing around the place. His expression morphed to one of distaste, realizing suddenly how much there was to do. Hmm… chemical compounds spread across the kitchen counters, the dead rats in the refrigerator, the knives he'd stuck in the wall practicing his throwing skills. Well this might take a while, but he'd hopefully have it ready tomorrow, prepared for when Alex entered his life again, though not as some random child…but as his now permanent ward. He could barely think it.

So instead of focusing on the realities of parenthood, Sherlock busied himself with cleaning, wondering if he could convince Mrs. Hudson to come help him. A mention of Alex would likely serve as an appropriate manipulation. Sherlock turned and walked towards the stairs, hoping with her help they'd have the place ready by the next morning.