All the reviews were wonderful- inspired me to crank out one more chapter before I leave tomorrow!
Sherlock initially thought he'd have to bring the subject up later. However, to his surprise it was Molly who did so that night in their bedroom.
"You know, that thing I said at the party," she began, even as she pulled off her shirt, twisting it in her hands, with obvious anxiety. "I didn't mean it. It just sort of…slipped out. Silly little thing wasn't it? But enough about that, do you think Harry's doing alright? Did you deduce any problems?"
"No, I think motherhood has suited her and Anna well," Sherlock said. "And I think it would suit you quite well too, which is why I know you've decided to go through with that…hence why you're moving out."
Molly let out a long sigh. "How long did it take you to deduce that?"
"Too long," Sherlock admitted. "I should have seen the signs earlier. But now I know. And I think we should talk about it."
"There's nothing to talk about Sherlock," Molly said as she pulled a sleep shirt out of her dresser. "I want a child, you don't. I need to start while I'm young, so the sooner I move out the better."
"First off, I don't like you assuming that I don't want a child and second—"
"You're not the only one who can deduce things, Sherlock," Molly said. She turned to face him, brown eyes staring into his fiercely. "You go ahead and tell me truthfully. Do you want children?"
"No," Sherlock said. "But—"
"But nothing. My assumption was correct as I knew it would be. I want a baby of my own, Sherlock. And I'm getting old. The fertility clinic already said there are risks, even though it looks like I should still be able to conceive. I need to do this now."
"Show me the profile of the man you've chosen. You said he was a doctor," Sherlock said.
Molly pulled back the covers and slid into the bed. "First off, I'm not doing that now. I'm tired, and I have an early shift tomorrow. Secondly, I'm not letting you get ahold of that to deduce all kinds of awful nasty things from the few facts on the page. I won't have you spoiling this."
"He could be a serial killer for all you know. He could be a pervert. He could have countless kinds of problems and you don't even know it," Sherlock said. "I don't understand how you can trust a stranger to that sort of thing. Even if you're moving out I won't stand by and see you do something so incalculably stupid!"
Molly crossed her arms. "Sherlock, it's not as though men are lining up at the door to date me. It takes time to find a man to settle down with and marry and start a family with. And I've run out of that. I've realized no one's going to want me that way and so I'm taking the initiative myself. I'm having a baby. And that's that. You're not changing my mind."
Sherlock stood frozen in the middle of the room. He supposed he hadn't expected Molly to put up quite so much of a fight, especially when he was employing such easy logic.
"I want you," Sherlock said. "I like having you here. I've said that. I will marry you if you'd like. And you're a great mother to Alex."
"You wouldn't understand," Molly said with a huff. "I want my own. My own child. I know it sounds silly. And while I adore Alex and all, I still want more than that. I've dreamed of being a mother since I was little. I was always carting baby dolls around. And now I'm getting to the point of no return. I have to decide now. And if you don't want children, then how am I supposed to stay with you?"
Sherlock still hadn't moved towards the bed. Molly glanced from him to the light and back.
"Now, if you're quite done, I'm going to sleep. Turn off the light if you would please? Unless you're planning on sleeping too."
Sherlock shook his head. "No. You're not leaving because of something so silly."
Molly's eyes flashed. "It's not silly. Plenty of people want to have children. It's not my fault that you don't."
"I never wanted to have children because I assumed I wouldn't meet anyone who would put up with all my issues, nor someone who I enjoyed the company of. I also assumed I would be a terrible parent," Sherlock said.
Molly sat up a little straighter, her gaze softening some. "Are you saying what I think you are?"
"I'm saying, I don't know that my opposition is as strong as it used to be," Sherlock said. "Let me look over those profiles tomorrow, and I'll tell you what I think. If there's an acceptable man in there, I'll find him for you. Just please….please Molly don't leave."
Molly stared at him for a moment, clearly moved by the pleading that had just escaped his mouth. She let out a long sigh, considering.
"And what, I'll have a child and—"
"We'll figure that out tomorrow," Sherlock said. "You've had a long day. Get some rest. I want a chance to think about this some. I don't know that I would be completely opposed to you having a baby. I like Alex well enough, after all."
"It's a bit unorthodox doing this," Molly said lying back down with a smile on her face.
"Aren't we already a bit unorthodox?" Sherlock asked. "Besides, orthodoxy is for boring people. This makes life far more interesting. Another adventure."
"You get some sleep too," Molly ordered even as her eyes closed.
Sherlock watched her a moment then slid into the bed beside her, not even bothering to remove his clothes. He leaned over and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. Her forehead wrinkled, but otherwise she didn't stir. He rolled over to lie on his back, thinking about everything that had just happened.
"This one's a complete moron," Sherlock said, tossing the profile aside.
Molly let out a sigh and handed the next one. Sherlock scanned it and muttered out his deductions. Easy. This was too easy.
"Paedophile."
"Oh come on, how can you even know that!?" Molly demanded, snatching the sheet back.
"He rambles about children and how much he enjoys them and that being the reason he's donating. It's disgusting. Next please."
Molly crumpled up the profile and handed him the next.
"Far too average."
"Now you're just making excuses," Molly said. "What about the doctor I picked? The one who donates to charities and does cross country running in his spare time? You said he was decent?"
"He's an idiot," Sherlock muttered. "They're all idiots. None of these men are good enough for you."
"Sherlock, one of them will just have to do. It will take months for you to find someone you're even remotely satisfied with."
"Then perhaps we just shouldn't have you doing this at all," Sherlock said. "It's a poor idea really, trying to make an offspring with these ridiculous men. He or she will end up all wrong if we settle for this rubbish." He tossed multiple profiles aside.
"Sherlock, I'm having a baby so you'd better just pick the least offensive," Molly stated.
"Idiots the lot of them. What a stupid idea thinking this could work. No, we'll simply have to give up."
"Then I'll leave and pick whoever I want," Molly said, crossing her arms. "This is serious. Do you want me to stay or not?"
Sherlock sighed and slumped onto the sofa. He grumbled and rolled over so he didn't have to look at her.
"Sherlock."
"Thinking, be quiet," he muttered, closing his eyes for a moment.
"They can't all be idiots," Molly said.
"Everyone's an idiot to me, Molly."
"So, you're implying the only person smart enough to satisfy you for the job is you," Molly pointed out.
Sherlock's eyes popped open. "Oh." He sat up and looked at her, cocking his head in thought. Molly stared at him.
"You seriously didn't even consider that?" Molly laughed. "Oh my god, Sherlock. All this considering men and you didn't even think about the fact that the orthodox normal thing to do would be to have you impregnate me."
"It didn't occur to me," he muttered. "You were so set on your sperm donors…"
Molly burst into giggles, causing his scowl to deepen.
"Oh shut up, it's not that funny."
"Well, I seriously thought you'd just ruled that out immediately, given that you said you didn't want children. And when you talked about it you simply said we'd go through with it but I'd continue living here with the child. I assumed the idea of having a baby with me bothered you, so you'd prefer another man to do the job," Molly said, managing to contain her laughter, though still smiling at him.
"I…" he was speechless. "I…you…"
"Sherlock, I'm happy to settle for a sperm donor, I'm not pressuring you," Molly said, coming over to sit beside the sofa, laying a hand on his arm. "But I am telling you right now that if they're all idiots there's only one man for the job. You'll simply have to figure out which of those options bothers you more—me having a baby with an idiot, or me having a baby with you. Because either way one of those will happen."
Sherlock's mouth opened and closed a few times. His child. How he'd managed to ignore that possibility was strange. In many ways he'd assumed Molly's choice of not telling him about the sperm donors had implied she didn't want him to father a child with her. So he'd ignored the idea completely. It was an unknown territory for him, thinking of such domestic things. Picturing prams and nappies and family photos and being called daddy.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts.
"I…I…I would have to consider," he said carefully.
Molly sighed. "I suppose I should have expected that. You gave me time to consider your proposal, I'll give you time to consider mine. You have three options Sherlock. Option one: you decide fatherhood is something you'd like and since no other man can compete with your massive intellect, you impregnate me. Option two: You decide fatherhood wouldn't be troubling to you, but that you'd rather not have your own offspring, therefore choosing another good candidate so that I can have a child of my own that you'd help me raise. Option three: you decide fatherhood just doesn't suit you beyond caring for Alex, therefore I go find my own place and just come visit on occasion…or I suppose not at all if you'd find that preferable. Am I clear?"
Sherlock nodded. "How long do I have to think about it?"
"I'll give you three months maximum," Molly said. "And then I'm leaving."
Three months. Sherlock sighed and pulled a packet of nicotine patches out of his dressing robe pocket.
"Sherlock!" Molly said, grabbing for them.
He snatched them out of reach. "Do you want me to decide or not? I would assume the sooner the better."
Molly sighed and crossed her arms, staring at him as he carefully applied four patches to his arms.
"Sherlock just one or two, please."
"Oh please, this is obviously a four patch problem," Sherlock muttered, sinking back onto the sofa and closing his eyes. "Now, a little silence please while I do some initial considerations."
"You're going to kill yourself," Molly said with a sigh.
"Well then I'll have my answer. Silence please."
Molly muttered something that sounded like "and I want him to father my child, how silly," and stalked off.
"Make some tea if you're going into the kitchen," he ordered, before sinking back into the sofa.
More muttering but he ignored it, sinking into his considerations, trying to determine if having a child was in any ways a good decision, or if the most logical pursuit would be to simply allow Molly to walk away.
The next three months he used up most of his nicotine patches. If ever there'd been a more perplexing problem it had been this one.
Every week or so Molly would ask him how he was feeling about it. Most often he wouldn't have an answer, though occasionally he'd ask a question or two.
For example:
"Would we have to leave Baker street? It's fairly small," Sherlock pointed out at one time.
"Well, the baby could sleep in our room for a bit, probably be easier that way actually. And if it's a girl I wouldn't see it being problematic if Alex shared a room for a bit with her…when she gets older we'd probably have to move though, give the two some privacy and all. If it's a boy I'd say not. No harm in the two sharing a room."
Followed by:
"Do I have to be called daddy?" he asked.
Molly had sighed. "You let it call you whatever you'd like. If you want to be that weird first name basis parent, go ahead."
"Is that a yes or a no?" Sherlock had asked, feeling confused by the ambiguity of her answer.
Continued with:
"What if the child has some sort of developmental problem?" Sherlock asked.
"What is your point?" Molly asked. "That a child with a problem would be any less ours, any less something we could love? You're not one of those eugenics supporters are you?"
"Eugenics poses a problematic solution," Sherlock said. "After all, where draw the line? But honestly, getting rid of a few stupid people does sound somewhat ideal to me."
Molly huffed and refused to talk to him for a week after that, until he apologized on the advice of Mrs. Hudson and said that he would love their child no matter what problems it might have.
By the time the three month mark was rolling around, Sherlock was beginning to notice Molly tensed up whenever he brought up new questions. She had started to become impatient, he noted, though he couldn't see why some good questions were so problematic. But his final ones were some of the most pertinent, and he voiced them regardless of her anxiety.
"But what if it's a sociopath like me?" Sherlock asked at one point.
"This is the real issue, isn't it? It's not about your responsibilities or anything," Molly said, gaze softening as she walked over to lay her hand on his shoulder.
"I just don't want him or her to…to deal with life the way I do. I don't want her or him to have to…be hurt by people who don't understand…be called a freak." His throat felt too tight so he stopped talking, swallowing to try to ease some of the tension.
"I honestly don't think you have to worry about that," Molly said. "You're unique, Sherlock, but I've never believed for one second you are a sociopath."
"High functioning, but sociopath nonetheless," Sherlock argued.
"No, you're a wonderful, intelligent, gifted, compassionate, unique man who has a few social issues, maybe a few sociopathic behaviors, but I don't think you should define yourself by that," Molly said. "And if the child is anything like you he or she will be wonderful. Besides, you forget our baby would have half my genes to even things out. Make it a bit more of a moron."
Sherlock smiled at that and leaned in to kiss her lips. "Then—all things considered maybe this isn't such a poor idea after all. Molly Hooper, would you like to make a baby with me?"
She managed a smile even as tears began to course down her cheeks. Sherlock was put in the awkward position of wondering what he'd done wrong, gently reaching out to pat her shoulder.
"I'm sorry did you…should we just go with the idiot doctor? I…I thought you…."
"I'm happy you imbecile," Molly exclaimed bursting into laughter even as she continued to cry. She threw her arms around him. "Oh Sherlock, I'm so incredibly happy. You're going to be a wonderful father. You already are…but you'll be even better…I…oh my god I can't stop crying I just…"
"Go calm yourself down," Sherlock said, hoping that wouldn't set off any more tears or laughter or anything else. "Get a handkerchief or something and then perhaps we can discuss—"
He paused as his phone began ringing. With a sigh he glanced at the number and picked up.
"Hello?"
"Sherlock, so sorry to call you. This is Jenna, Ben's mother? I wanted to ask if the boys have turned up at your place? Ben told me they were coming over here but he might have gotten a bit mixed up."
Sherlock paused and glanced around the place. Alex's things weren't in the living space, but it was possible if he'd brought Ben home they'd gone straight upstairs.
"I'm going to check his room. Just a moment."
Sherlock made a dash for the stairs. He popped his head into Alex's bedroom, but as he suspected it was empty. He lifted his mobile back up.
"I don't see any signs of them here. Let me check one last place and then I'll know for sure."
He headed down the stairs to Mrs. Hudson. She looked up from her kitchen with a smile, dusting flour off on her apron.
"What can I help you with, Sherlock? Everything alright?"
"You haven't seen Alex at all this afternoon, have you?" Sherlock asked.
"No, I haven't," she said. "Is everything alright?"
"Just something odd happening," Sherlock muttered. "It's fine, don't worry."
He walked back out, moving towards the stairs to avoid alarming Mrs. Hudson as he spoke to Ben's mother.
"Our landlady hasn't seen the boys either. Have you called Ben?"
"A few times, his phone is off which is strange. Maybe he just forgot to charge it last night?" There was a note of hope in her voice.
"I'll call Alex and get back to you momentarily."
He hung up and speed dialed Alex's mobile.
"Hi this is Alex, can't answer right now. Leave a message!"
The phone beeped and Sherlock ended the call. Odd. Alex knew better than to turn his phone off, and he was careful about charging it most every night. Sherlock had seen it plugged in the night previous, so he knew the battery life should have been fine. And besides, if Ben's was off too that was far too big of a coincidence.
There's no such thing as coincidences, Mycroft's voice echoed in his mind.
"Sherlock, what's going on?" Molly asked as he came back into the living room.
"Alex said he was going to stay over at Ben's place, right?" Sherlock asked.
"Yes," Molly said, brow crinkling. "He did. What's wrong? Why do you look so worried?"
He swallowed. "That was Ben's mother. She says they're not at her place. Both the boy's phones are off."
"Alex knows better," Molly whispered.
"He does," Sherlock agreed.
He took a moment to consider before pulling out the second phone he had taken to keeping with him at all times. He quickly dialed the only number on it. It rang a few times before Jim's familiar voice came through the other end. He quickly switched to speakerphone so Molly could hear as well.
"Oh Sherlock, I've been longing for a call. Can't believe it took you so long though. I've been so dreadfully bored."
"Don't play coy," Sherlock snapped. "I know you have him."
"Have who? Oh your puppy? Dearest me, I almost forgot. Yes, decided to take the liberty of borrowing him for a weekend. I think it will give us a good chance to catch up. It's been ages since we had our last play time."
"If you touch him, I'll…"
"You'll what? You know, if I were you I'd stop bluffing. You and I both know you're not going to do anything. You can't. You've lost your touch. I've been back in England for eight years now and you still haven't caught up with me."
There was a chuckle and Sherlock glanced at Molly who was becoming paler by the minute.
"If you have him, prove it," Sherlock said. "For all I know you're bluffing."
Moriarty made a tisking sound. But Sherlock could hear him talking to someone.
"It's for you puppy, be a good boy and say hello to Uncle Sherlock for daddy, hmm?"
Alex's voice came through the phone.
"Sherlock," he whispered.
And then the phone was pulled back.
"And Ben?" Sherlock demanded. "You have to have him too."
"Tell him about Ben," Moriarty ordered.
"Sherlock…Ben's…dead," Alex whispered.
That could be a bluff, but Sherlock doubted it.
"Yes, I'm afraid I do play a bit rough with my toys. Such a pity when they break like that," Moriarty said. "Such fragile things children are. Brittle little bones, soft skin, lose a little blood and they're just gone."
"What do you want?" Sherlock asked. "Just tell me and I'll give it to you."
There was a low chuckle. "Oh Sherlock, all I wanted was to hear the terror in your voice. And you've already given that to me. Besides, I've heard you're planning on replacing Alex soon anyways. Or isn't that what that pretty whore is for? Making you another brat to enjoy?"
Sherlock gritted his teeth but didn't give in to the taunts. Molly had a hand over her mouth. His mind was reeling, but he kept himself calm, focusing on steadying his racing heart, taking deep breaths.
"Don't worry, Sherlock. I'll return him at the end of the weekend, just like I promised. Until then, no need to bother with anymore calls. I'll give Alex your love."
There was a click and Sherlock lowered the phone, well aware Moriarty wasn't going to answer if he called again. He used every skill he had to try to gather clues, but there was very little to go on. From the sound of the echoes, they were in a small space with concrete walls, likely a basement. But that was next to nothing.
"Call Ben's mother and tell her someone's taken the boys. I'm calling Lestrade and he'll look into it. But even if we find something I doubt it will do any good," Sherlock said.
"He's going to kill him, isn't he?" Molly whispered.
Sherlock shook his head. "This isn't his endgame. Even if he's a lying snake, I think he's telling the truth on giving Alex back. No, with everything he's set up he can't kill Alex."
Molly raised an eyebrow. "And how would you know that for certain?"
"I'm aware of some information Moriarty believes I don't know," Sherlock said with a sigh. He pulled up Lestrade's number. "And his plan doesn't involve just killing Alex with no preamble. I can't explain it now. You, call Ben's mother now. It won't do much good, but I suppose she'll want to know."
"Do I tell her he's dead?" Molly asked.
"No, leave that to the police when the fact is confirmed."
Molly nodded and went to find her phone.
As Sherlock dialed Lestrade's number, he began to realize they were in for a very long weekend.
The call came in around Sunday afternoon. Confirmation that Alex and Ben had both been found, though Lestrade's tone let Sherlock know immediately that Moriarty hadn't been lying about the other boy's state.
They'd spent the weekend hardly sleeping. They'd talked no more on their new plan, too caught up in their worry. Molly hadn't wanted to go to work in case Alex might be found, but Sherlock kept assuring her that the best thing to do was take her mind off it. He in the meantime tried everything he could to find Alex. But he had no luck. Perhaps Moriarty was right. Maybe he was losing his touch. Maybe his newfound care for Alex and Molly had weakened his abilities in some way.
So the call from Lestrade was a relief. Realizing they didn't need to wait anymore, worry, imagine what might have happened over the long period where Alex was with Moriarty.
He and Molly headed over to the hospital immediately to find out what had happened. Lestrade greeted them at the front desk.
"How's Alex?" Molly asked instantly, twisting her purse strap as she stared off down the hall as though looking for her son.
"Catatonic. We found him with the other kid's body in a back alley in London. Alex was covered in blood, but the nurse told me it looks like none of it is his."
"Ben's then," Sherlock said.
Lestrade nodded. "We think so. Still testing, but the kid had apparently lost a lot of blood. At the moment that's looking to be cause of death. Alex isn't talking, and I don't see him talking anytime soon."
"Ben's parents been called yet?" Sherlock asked.
Lestrade sighed and nodded. "Yes, gotta break the news to them soon. Was waiting until they arrived."
Molly touched Greg's arm. "Look, while we appreciate everything you've done, we'd love to go see Alex. Please, I need to see him myself."
The police detective gave a half smile at that and then allowed them to pass, telling them where they could find their son.
The nurse's face was enough to let Sherlock know that whatever they would find when they saw their son, it wouldn't be good.
"Is he hurt?" Molly begged to know.
"No," the nurse assured him. "Absolutely no physical damage. Whatever trauma he dealt with was clearly psychological."
"Did you run a rape kit?" Sherlock asked.
She sighed. "We did a few quick scans and saw no signs of damage."
"Thank you," Molly said as Sherlock pushed past the nurse to go into the hospital room.
The detective froze as he saw Alex lying on the hospital bed in a gown, still and quiet. He didn't look up when Sherlock came into the room, or when Molly followed close behind.
"Oh, Alex," Molly whispered.
Sherlock felt like his chest was becoming tighter as Alex still didn't react. Molly came over to sit at his bedside, reaching out to take his hand. Alex jerked away as though stung, finally lifting his head up.
"Alex, sweetheart, it's me," Molly said, giving a feeble smile. "You're safe now. You don't need to worry."
"Molly," Alex mumbled, blue eyes scanning over her.
"That's right, sweetheart. That's right."
Alex opened his arms and Molly leaned in to pull him into a hug. Sherlock watched her eyes close, a tear roll down her cheek as she hugged him tightly.
Part of Sherlock wanted to reassure Alex. Part of him wanted to say things like Molly was whispering. But he couldn't make himself lie. There was no truth in telling him everything would be fine. It was a lie to pretend Moriarty couldn't do anything to him anymore. So Sherlock settled for coming to sit on the other side and rubbing Alex's back.
This was merely one more factor in his decision with Molly. If he couldn't keep Alex safe, what made him think his new child would be any different? Was bringing a baby into this messy world a good idea? Glancing at Molly still crying as she held Alex, he couldn't answer that. Life was full of messy choices and problems. He'd just have to hope he made the right ones.
A/N: Thanks to Denethorian and BelieveofManyThings! Feedback is always appreciated, especially if anyone wants to weigh in on Sherlock's big decision!
Ok, so this is my last chapter before leaving for a week. So, no updates for a bit, sorry guys! But after that I'll be back with regular updates. Until next time!- elsarenard