A/N: So I'm going to admit I made some big mistakes in the last chapter. And I'm a big enough person to admit I might have been a bit quick in my decision to write it. As a result, I had multiple people complain so I do offer my apologies for sloppy writing, any material that has made people feel uneasy/grossed out/uncomfortable (I will be adding new warnings and I have upped the rating), and some potential plot holes/OOC behavior that might have seemed unbelievable. I'm currently debating doing a rewrite. I don't really know what to do, and I really do feel awful about it.

My response to "guest" is listed in the end notes. *

Molly had tried to persuade him to go home after the first few hours in the A & E ward. But Sherlock wouldn't hear of it. He had to stay with her. He had to be there for Johann and for her. Molly had broken down on the way over. Tears and sobbing and a level of emotion he had never seen in her, even after some of the nasty hormones of pregnancy in the last few months. He wouldn't let her stay there alone, not that he wanted to leave his son in the first place.

The doctors had taken him in almost the moment they'd entered the hospital. But then again, the wound was deep, it was on a very young child, and it hadn't stopped bleeding on the way over.

By the time the doctor told him and Molly to sit in the waiting room while their son was looked at, Sherlock was a mess himself. He'd tried to be strong. He'd gone so long being strong. But there in that small room filled with a few other worried waiters, Sherlock found himself breaking down. Tears rushing to his eyes, his breath feeling short, heart beating rapidly as some sort of nervous breakdown threatened his balanced emotional state. He did his best to fight back against it, but there had already been too many battles for one day. And yet again, Sherlock lost.

After what felt like hours someone came to update them on Johann's status. He'd received stitches, and the doctors were feeling confident that he could go home soon. Molly asked about surgery for the scar, and the nurse quickly said it was too early for that. They'd need to wait for the wound to heal fully, then go in for a consultation to see what a plastic surgeon would say. Molly offered her thanks, graciously mentioning how much she appreciated them taking care of her son. However, from the way the nurse was eyeing the both of them, Sherlock had a good feeling he knew what they were thinking. He just had to hope he could find a way to dissuade child services from visiting him again.

"She thinks we're terrible parents," Molly whispered when she was out of earshot.

"We're not," Sherlock said. "So ignore her and any of the rest of them."

Molly squeezed her eyes shut, leaning closer to Sherlock. "We should never have let him just walk away like that. We should have killed that horrible bastard. I just saw red at the moment and if I'd had that gun I would have killed him." Her jaw clenched and when her eyes opened they were full of a kind or rage that didn't suit her. "Why didn't you shoot him? How could you let him walk away? You let this happen to our son! It could have all been over."

"Our priority was saving our son," Sherlock said. "And…I need information from him."

"Information? What kind of information is more important than our son?" Molly hissed.

Sherlock shrugged. He couldn't tell her. Too much of a risk. But she was right. It did sound petty, and his stomach thank as he weighed the two. No, in the end Johann would always be more important. If he'd thought Moriarty was going to actually kill him, he would have pulled that trigger.

"And besides," he said, changing the subject quickly, "you aren't thinking about the reality of things. This is Moriarty we're talking about. He knows I own a gun, Molly. I guarantee it. So what makes you think he'd go into our apartment without a plan if I decided to shoot him? What makes you think there weren't snipers outside our window who might have shot us the second it was over? Or outside of Harry Watson's apartment instead. This game with Moriarty is chess, Molly. And in chess you have to not only plan your own move, but think what your opponent's will be too."

"Precisely."

Sherlock turned to see Mycroft in the doorway to the waiting room. His eyes were shadowed, normally confident posture a little more resigned than normal.

"Hello little brother," Mycroft said. "Avoiding repeating past mistakes I see."

"Avoiding making the same ones as my brother, yes," Sherlock said. "If you're going to insist you're smarter than me, I'm going to need to prove it's not so by not making idiotic choices."

"What are you even talking about?" Molly asked, looking between the two brothers in confusion.

"I'm talking about Mycroft's decision to shoot a man while out on an MI6 operation and the consequences that followed," Sherlock said with a sigh. "Oh don't give me that look, Mycroft. Go on tell Molly how you destroyed four lives in the process. Or don't you think his memory deserves a little respect?"

Mycroft's jaw twitched, but ne nodded. "It is true, I'm afraid. The man's brother came after me. Since I had destroyed his family, he decided to destroy mine."

Molly's eyes flicked between the two of them. "But he failed…I mean Sherlock and your parents are still alive."

Mycroft sighed and Sherlock saw his hand twitch, making the ring glint.

"Our brother…Sherrinford…was shot by a sniper," Mycroft said. "And an attempt was made on Sherlock's life that ended up not being successful—"

"Only due to a noble and brave sacrifice," Sherlock muttered. "One Mycroft has always failed to understand."

"Oh stop acting like that dumb animal actually knew what it was doing," Mycroft said. "You still don't know for sure why he decided to act in the manner he did."

"Redbeard knew I was in danger and he protected me. Better than you ever did," Sherlock growled. "The point is, one can't charge into a situation without considering it carefully."

"How excellent that you've learned that little brother. After your shooting of Magnussen I'd quite thought you had no sense of restraint."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "That was different. Calculated. He had me in check and I knew it. It was my last resort."

"And Moriarty doesn't have us in check?" Molly demanded. "With him kidnapping our sons and giving them physical and mental scars? We're practically checkmated, Sherlock. How can you think otherwise?"

"I knew in that moment at Magnussen's that John would never have happiness so long as that man was alive," Sherlock said. "Mary was always going to be in danger, and it meant he and Alex and her would never have had a moment's peace. I knew that every good play involves sacrifice, and at the time, I felt my own would have been worth it. After all, if it comes to saving the life of the king, any queen is worth disposing of. My game was over, I had nothing left while John had a wife and child. So I stepped aside to allow him to continue on even if it meant my game was over," Sherlock muttered.

"But the queen is a more valuable player than the king," Molly said with a sigh.

"Precisely," Sherlock said. "And Moriarty is the king, not the queen. And in this particular game of chess, the major players must be eliminated before we can take out the king. For Magnussen, yes he had some connections, but in the end he was a lone shark who never had anyone who cared about him in any great capacity. He'd threatened and intimidated enough people that with his death the game was over. No one cared. Moriarty…Moriarty is a different sort of breed. He's made connections with some of the most dangerous criminals out there, and he's helped them, not just exploited them for his own purpose. We kill the king in this game, and the queen, the pawns, the knights, the rooks, the bishops come down on us with vengeance."

Molly rubbed her temple. "So we do what exactly, Sherlock?"

"Dismantle his network. Take out the other major players. Find his bishops, get them rooks out of the way. Pawns will disperse when the major figure heads are gone. And when Moriarty is alone, then we take him out. I've already been working on this. I know both of you think I've been lazing about, but this has been my project. I've done it before and I will do it now."

"But last time you killed him first, then his network," Molly pointed out.

"And I had to fake my death in order to do so and continue to live undercover for two years. You want me to do that now with our family?" Sherlock snapped. "Is that what you want Molly? For me to leave you and Alex and Johann? Besides, I don't believe this trick will work twice, do you?"

Molly looked close to tears. "No. But god Sherlock, I don't want him hurting our son. I can't stand it. I'd rather he killed me than let him touch Johann again."

"I will never let Moriarty touch him again," Sherlock said in a low voice. "I will continue my work. It will be easier with him gone. And when the time comes, I will finish Moriarty off myself. If you think I'm so heartless as to not feel anything about what he did to Johann—" he broke off, his throat suddenly feeling far too tight. "I'm not a complete monster, Molly. I wanted to pull that trigger. I wanted him to suffer. And I swear to you Molly that if he ever lays another hand on Johann I won't let him get away with it a second time. I'm not going to let that happen."

Mycroft sighed. "We will have to hope that time never comes," he said. "You've mentioned he's gone. Where exactly?"

"He didn't say. But I would imagine he's interested in some of the political problems in China," Sherlock said. "I can't say for certain. Out of England."

"Yes," Mycroft said. "Well, I'll see if we can find any clues. In the meantime, I agree with you. Keep dismantling the network and when the time comes we will have Moriarty destroyed. If we need to, we can put you two and Alexander and Johann into protective custody. It's not ideal, but it would help."

Sherlock thought a moment. "Speaking of Johann, perhaps you want to go see him and also use your magic government powers to clear up the fact that we're not abusive. Of course if that's all right, uncle Mycroft?" Sherlock muttered.

He wondered briefly if Mycroft might just decide to allow the abuse complaints to go through. Perhaps Mycroft would feel the same way about Johann as he had with Alex… that he would be better off in someone else's care. Sherlock felt sick at the mere thought.

"Of course," Mycroft said, and walked to the door. "Anything for my nephew."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, but his attention had refocused on Molly who was still looking rather tearful.

"I swear to you," Sherlock said. "He will not hurt him again."

Molly nodded and bit her lip before glancing in the direction Mycroft had gone. "You said four lives? He destroyed four lives?"

Sherlock shrugged. "An unconfirmed deduction. But I always suspected. The switch of the ring to his right hand ring finger…"

Molly reached up a hand to cover her mouth. "Oh…so he's…"

Sherlock nodded and looked away. "Yes."

Molly was silent a long moment and then one of her hands came out to reach for his. "That could be you. If…if Moriarty's network killed us then."

"Yes," Sherlock admitted. "And I would not be surprised if Moriarty doesn't care if he dies, so long as I'm left in lonely solitude knowing my decisions caused the deaths of everyone I love. In fact, I'm quite certain he would find that one of the best endings possible. Killing me is obvious. Leaving me a hollow shell of a man, alone and broken, hiding behind a façade to try to make do with what I have…yes that I imagine he'd love. And who knows, maybe if I haven't killed myself in a year he's given orders to someone else to do that too."

She moved forward and kissed his lips tenderly. Sherlock breathed out a sigh of relief and pulled her into his arms to hug her.

"We'll find a way through this, Molly," he said. "I know we will."

"I believe you, Sherlock Holmes," she whispered. "Even trying to muddle through your messy chess comparisons."

Sherlock sighed into her hair. "Yes. And Molly…the same holds true in this game as it did in my game with Magnussen."

She pulled back to peer at him curiously.

"You, and Alex, and Johann are my king," he whispered softly. "And I will sacrifice myself if the time comes in order to make sure your games continue. I will do everything in my power not to let you go down. Because I know if you do…I'm finished too. What good is a queen without its king?"

"Oh Sherlock," Molly whispered. Tears came full-fledged and he took her back in his arms as she let out weak wracking sobs into his shoulder. He patted her shoulder, trying to give some semblance of comfort. But he knew what he'd said was true. In the end he didn't matter. All that he wanted was to keep his new family alive.

It was early morning by the time they were released from the hospital. Whatever explanation Mycroft had given appeared to do the trick, and the doctors allowed them to leave without any trouble. Sherlock sent Molly home and went to pick up Alex from Harry's. He was incredibly relieved when he saw his older son, unharmed, smiling.

"We had some problems," he told Alex on the way home. "Johann is going to look a little funny because Moriarty got a hold of him last night. But he's doing all right for now."

Alex nodded at that, though he appeared more withdrawn at the mere mention of the consulting criminal.

"You named him Johann?" Alex asked.

"Yes," Sherlock said. "After your father. And one of his middle names is Arthur like you wanted."

Alex beamed at that, and Sherlock reached out an arm to wrap him into a side hug.

They reached home to find Mrs. Hudson with Johann in their sitting room.

"Molly was exhausted so I sent her to bed," she said with a warm smile. "Poor dear. Alex, darling, come hold him why don't you? He's just a lovely little thing. Very calm actually."

Alex went over to where she was. He gave Sherlock a questioning glance before sitting on the sofa and reaching out his arms.

"Just like cousin Ella," Sherlock said. "Support his head."

One hand went under Johann's head and the other reached out to carefully cup him close. Sherlock was unable to restrain a slight smile when he watched a look of amazement come over Alex's face.

"He's really small," Alex said.

"Yes, he is," Sherlock agreed. "But he'll grow. Faster than you realize."

Alex smiled down at the baby. "Hi Jojo," he said. Sherlock winced at the ridiculous nickname. He was hoping it wouldn't stick. "I'm your big brother, Alex. Or well…sort of. Molly and Sherlock kind of adopted me."

"You are his brother, dear," Mrs. Hudson said. "Don't you doubt that. And you'll be a good one too."

There was another brilliant smile and then Alex was continuing to babble to the baby in his arms. Sherlock just shook his head and went to sit in his chair.

"You look exhausted, Sherlock. Go take a nap with Molly. I can watch these two. I already told her I'd come get her if the little one gets hungry."

Sherlock shook his head. "I'm fine. And I have work to do. Lots of work in fact."

"All right, well suit yourself. But you cannot be exhausted as a father," Mrs. Hudson said, shaking her head. "It just s\imply can't be done."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and ignored her, snatching Molly's laptop off of her chair and readying himself for work. He glanced briefly towards the boys, letting that brief pang in his heart fuel him as he started into his work.

A/N: Thank you to my reviewers Believer of Many Things, Jesuslovesmarina, and guest.

On Mycroft- There is a ring on his right hand that's shown a few times. Obviously fan speculations vary, but this fit nicely in the story so that was my decision. Hope that answered those of you who had pointed out Mycroft must have secrets in an earlier chapter. Same with the brother theories-just what I decided to do with that.

*To guest- I need to address you. Look, I have to say, I did see your review as very negative. I'm sorry that you feel that way about this story. I have my reasons for what I did, and I actually hoped to address them some in this next chapter (as you saw if you are still reading though I really do understand if you are not and hope you've moved on to Fanfiction you find more realistic).

If you want to talk to me further, my inbox is always open as is my Tumblr one or twitter. But the way you addressed this through an anonymous comment full of complaints and SHOUTING and strong words like ridiculous without any chance for me to really defend my reasons did feel very negative, and I'm going to be honest, it really hurt. I'm a person with feelings. Please keep that in mind in the future. I spend a lot of time on this, and it means a lot to me. It's not a matter of not using criticism-it's a matter of doing it with consideration as plenty of other reviewers did in voicing their problems with yesterday's chapter which I admit had some obvious flaws. There's my end of my rant. Have a great rest of your day.