A/N: Welcome back, party people! Sorry this wasn't up yesterday. We had a massive internet problem that couldn't be helped. I hope that the longish chapter makes up for it. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing except Gabriel, Scarlett and Katie.
It was Friday afternoon. Gabriel and Katie sat cross-legged on the floor, side by side watching cartoons. They leaned against one another tiredly. It had been a very long day at school and though both were glad for the weekend, they had not gotten their Friday night second wind just yet. They were so tired, that Gabriel hadn't even protested much when his baby sister climbed into his lap and insisted on watching some ridiculous show with talking pink unicorns. And Katie just laughed as Scarlett grabbed her hand. The toddler had decided that Katie must be another sibling, as she was there all the time anyway, and had therefore deemed her thumb worthy to be sucked. Scarlett had been informed by her parents that she was not supposed to suck her thumb. Scarlett's reasoning had worked out that as long as she weren't sucking her own thumb, she could do what she liked. So now she had this habit of crawling into other people's laps and sucking their fingers. This completely unnerved Molly who was convinced that she was going to pick up some kind of flesh-eating virus, even though both Sherlock and John had explained that stomach acid would take care of most of it. She still insisted on having enormous tankards of anti-bac everywhere. Even after Sherlock had sarcastically suggested that they just hose the child down with biocide.
"You sleep here," Scarlett said to Katie. It wasn't really a question.
Katie laughed. "Yes. I'm staying the weekend, Scarlett." That had been happening more frequently of late. Gabriel knew his friend didn't want to stay at her house right now. He had talked to his parents about it. About how the last time he was at Katie's house, her mom and dad had been having some terrible fight where they screamed and threw things at one another. It got so bad that Katie and Gabriel had taken her two younger siblings and stayed up in her room until John and Mary came to pick Gabriel up. Knowing that things were bad, Molly had insisted that they let Katie stay over anytime she wanted. Sherlock had been irritated at first, but he'd gotten used to it and no longer cringed when Katie hugged him or kissed his cheek.
"Where's your mum going anyway?" Gabriel asked.
Katie shrugged. "She took Thomas and Martha to Gram's house. She asked if I wanted to go too, but I hate going to Gram's. It's so boring."
"Oh," Gabriel said. "I'm glad you're staying here."
"I wish I could stay here all the time."
"Why?"
"My mom and dad fight too much. It's not cheerful anymore like it is here. I think they're going to get a divorce." Katie looked sad and snuggled Scarlett closer.
"What's a divorce?" Gabriel asked.
"When your mom and dad don't like each other anymore and they stop living together."
"Oh." Gabe was suddenly very uncomfortable with the conversation and turned his attention back to the television. They sat in silence until the end of the show when they heard the door downstairs open.
"All right, you three." Mary emerged from the bedroom where she'd been lying down with Izzy. "Grab your jackets so we can go eat," she said with a yawn. Isabel was on her feet but still half asleep even as she linked arms with Scarlett to stumble down the stairs toward their parents. Gabriel pulled his and Katie's jackets down from the rack behind the door and helped her into it.
"Gabe, what if my mom and dad do get divorced?"
"Oh, don't worry about it, Katie. They won't."
"They might," she sighed. "What if my mom moves out and takes Thomas and Martha with her? Maybe she'll move back to America and I'll have to leave. Or worse, maybe she'll move back to America with Thomas and Martha and Gram, but I won't be invited. She's not really my mom, you know."
Gabriel hugged Katie tight. He could tell she was crying, but he didn't want to say anything about it. She might be embarrassed and he didn't really know what to say. He wasn't really even sure what 'divorce' meant and he didn't want to promise that nothing bad was going to happen if he wasn't sure. His dad had told him that it wasn't right to give people false hope by sugar coating the truth. "It'll be okay, Katie. We'll be friends no matter what."
"You promise?"
"Of course." He smiled and took her hand, leading her downstairs. As soon as everyone was assembled, her tears dried up and she was able to laugh, but Gabe could tell. Katie was worried.
OoOoOo
Sherlock and Molly were curled up in bed watching telly when Gabriel's troubles finally got the best of him. It always happened. His little brain was like a slow pressure cooker. He simmered on his thoughts for a long time before finally spitting them out. He knocked lightly on their cracked door and peered around the frame. "Are you guys still awake?"
"No, we went to sleep three hours ago when we put our children to bed," Sherlock answered, closing his laptop. Molly pinched him. "Ow! I mean, come on in."
Molly laughed as Gabriel climbed up the side of the bed, flailing and crawling over his father to situate himself between them. "Well do make yourself comfortable," she teased as he snuggled under the blankets. "What's up, Gabriel? You look troubled."
He shrugged, sitting there for a long time as if trying to find the right words. "What happens if people get divorced?"
Sherlock struggled to pass his laptop over to the nightstand one handed. "First the people that are married move into different houses. Then they have to go see a judge who asks them a bunch of questions, divides up all their stuff and then they pay a lot of money so they don't have to live together anymore."
"What if they have kids?"
"Well usually the mum and dad will share them. The children will spend a certain amount of time with one parent and then go to the other parent's house for a while," Molly answered.
"Oh," Gabriel said with a heavy sigh. "So if one kid belongs to the mum and one kid belongs to the dad, do they get to keep their own kid?"
"Well, it depends," Molly started.
"On what?"
"On which one runs the fastest," Sherlock joked.
Gabriel snickered. "Dad! That's not true."
"Not really, no."
"Why are you suddenly so interested?" Molly asked. "Are you afraid that your dad and me are going to get divorced? Because you know, that's pretty silly. Whenever we fight, we always end up laughing."
"I know. And it's not me. It's Katie. She says her mum and dad might get divorced. They don't like each other anymore, I guess."
"Well maybe not," Molly said, sliding her arm around the little boy and hugging him to her side. "People get divorced for lots of reasons. It just happens. Sometimes one of the people has a problem that the other can't deal with. It doesn't mean that they don't like or love one another anymore and it definitely doesn't mean that they don't love their children anymore."
"I guess," Gabriel said. "Katie's so sad, though. She's scared that she'll have to move back to America or that her mum will take her brother and sister and go back to America and leave her with her dad."
Molly looked puzzled. "Why would she do that?"
"Katie's mum isn't her real mum," Sherlock explained.
"Oh."
"Look, Gabriel," Molly began, "Nobody knows what will happen tomorrow and we can't control how other people react. All you can do—all Katie can do—is trust that her parents will do what is best for her. They love her and they will take care of her."
"But they fight all the time. They shout and throw things and she gets scared. She doesn't even want to go home from school anymore." Gabriel was starting to get agitated and his voice was beginning to waver. It seemed that for all of Sherlock's sociopathic tendencies, Gabriel had managed to make up for it in spades, often feeling too much.
"Gabriel," Sherlock said, pulling his child into his lap and staring down at him seriously. "Just calm down. You have to learn to care about people without taking all of their problems into yourself. Katie doesn't know that her parents are going to get a divorce. She's jumped to a conclusion based on circumstantial evidence. Trust me, that's dangerous. It can lead you to completely the wrong answer. On the other hand, they very well might get divorced, but it won't be the end of her life. Whatever is going to happen will happen and there's not much that we can do about it and truthfully, it isn't really our business."
"But you nose around in other people's business all the time," Gabriel said. Molly snorted.
"And if I got involved with all those people's problems, I'd be a basket case. Helping someone doesn't necessarily mean that you have to fix their problem, Gabe. Sometimes their problems can't be fixed. The best you can do, or I can do, or Molly can do or any of us, is to be Katie's friend. Listen to her when she needs to talk, give her an extra cuddle and try to distract her from her worries."
Gabriel nodded and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. "Okay, Dad," Gabe sighed. "I'll try. But somebody needs to tell her mum and dad that they're being stupid."
OoOoOo
Molly giggled as she flipped through Scarlett's baby book, pointing out the pictures to the little girl snuggled in her lap. Sherlock hated pictures. He hated posing for them. He hated the fake, cheerful tone of the photographer as they tried to make you smile. He was almost like those obscure African tribes that were afraid that taking their picture would steal their soul. He'd once told Molly that in addition to always looking like an absolute git in photographs, he was also a little freaked out by the notion of freezing a moment in time. Photographs were another thing that Molly had forcibly inflicted upon them all until they just accepted it. She was constantly taking pictures of them. She wanted to be sure that every second of their adventures together were documented. Consequently, Scarlett's baby book was extensive.
"Who that, Mummy?" Scarlett asked, pointing at one of the pictures.
"That's your Uncle Mycroft and Gabriel," she replied. In the photograph, Mycroft looked miserable with Gabriel perched on his shoulders, holding an open umbrella over them.
"Bre very little," the little girl said.
"Indeed he was." She flipped the pages again and found a picture of Sherlock lying on the couch asleep with a tiny newborn Scarlett curled up on his chest. "Oh look, darling! Who is that?" She pointed to the picture and Scarlett giggled.
"Daddy!" she exclaimed. "He got baby."
"He did. You know, for the longest time, the only way you would sleep was on his chest like that."
"Why, Mummy?"
"I don't know, sweetie. But you would just cry and cry until he picked you up. I think you liked his voice."
Scarlett gasped as she gazed at the next page. "There's you, Mummy!" The photograph had been taken at Ambergris the summer before. Molly and Scarlett were sitting on a towel on the sand, both of them wearing near identical smiles as they embraced tightly. That had been such a nice day, Molly remembered. "Mummy and Scar-baby!"
"Yes it is, precious."
"You so pretty, Mummy," Scarlett sighed, giving Molly a big sloppy kiss.
"So are you, darling."
When Sherlock returned home that evening, Molly was still curled up on the couch, flipping through the photo album. "Hello, Mols," Sherlock said, flopping down on the couch beside her and brushing a kiss across her mouth. "All right?"
"Of course," she said.
"Where is everyone?"
"Gabriel and Katie went to the cinema with Mary, Izzy, Jenn and Archie. Mrs. Hudson is on a date and Scarlett is finishing her nap."
"Ah… blessed silence."
"Exactly. Where's John?"
"He had to go to the shops before going home, so I'd assume that's where he is."
Molly nodded, turning her attention back to the photo album in her lap. She turned the page to another picture of herself and Sherlock. This one showed just the two of them, one of the few that did. John had obviously taken the photo while the two of them were unawares. Molly had been extremely pregnant at the time. She was reclined on the couch, reading Modern Forensics. Sherlock lay on top of her. His eyes were closed and he was kissing the exposed, swollen baby belly. Molly felt tears stinging her eyes as she looked at the photograph. She missed that time in their lives and was finding that she missed Scarlett being a baby. "Do you remember this photograph?" she asked, shoving the album into Sherlock's lap.
He sighed. "Yes, that ridiculous picture that John took. I still can't believe he didn't delete it. He threatened to put it up on the blog."
Molly giggled. "I wish he would."
"Ugh… don't be ridiculous." He still didn't like to be thought of as human. Or sentimental in the least.
Molly closed the book and tossed it to the coffee table, then snuggled up to him. She wound her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. His scent was still breathtaking and she breathed him in until her lungs were tight. He was heading into his mind palace. She could tell because he was so silent. He kissed the crown of her head gently, but already he was practically gone, wandering through the hallways and rooms in his head. "Sherlock," she said, hoping to catch him before he became completely non-verbal.
"Hmm?"
"Do you ever miss it?"
"Miss what?" he asked, his voice still faraway.
"Scarlett being a baby."
He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess. Why?"
"Well, I was just looking at these old pictures. She was such a sweet baby."
"She's still a sweet baby, isn't she?"
"Oh of course. She's the sweetest thing ever. Her and Gabriel both. She's just getting so big. She's practically a little kid now."
"And that's bad?"
"Oh of course not," Molly said, then sighed heavily. "I don't know what I mean. I just… they're my babies, Sherlock. And I see them getting bigger every day. I guess it just makes me a little nostalgic for a time when they needed me."
"They still need you, silly Mouse," he replied, clasping her hand and tracing absent little circles over the back with his thumb.
"Oh I know that. I can't explain this feeling—"
"And what are you feeling?"
She hesitated, not sure if she wanted to go on with this conversation. After all, she wasn't really sure what she was asking for anyway. It could just be a hormonal shift. "Like I want to have another baby."
Sherlock sat up so fast that Molly fell backward. "Wait. What?"
"I think I want to have another baby," she said again.
"Oh," he said, standing up and pushing his hands through his hair in that way he always did when he was nervous or hyperactive. "No. No, I don't think so, Molly."
She laughed. "You haven't even heard what I've said, yet."
"Trust me, Molly. Nothing you can say would make me want to change my mind."
"And why not? Don't you love having Gabriel and Scarlett?"
"Of course I do! You know I do, Molly… but…they're a stretch for… someone like me."
"Oh please," Molly groaned. "You're a brilliant dad."
"Hardly. I'm almost as childish as they are." He began to pace with that anxious, caged panther gait. His brain was about to overload. "And we've just gotten into a routine where I'm able to work and not feel like I'm going insane all the time."
"Don't be dramatic, Sherlock."
"I am dramatic." He turned back to Molly, staring at her a long time before speaking again. He was observing her. Trying to see how serious she was about this. "Look, Molly, I'm not saying no. I just think we should wait a while. Think about what this would mean."
"What would this mean? Do enlighten me."
"Well… first off, we'd have to leave Baker Street. The flat is simply too small for so many children."
"We could put Scarlett in the room with Gabe—"
"Oh that would be well received. A boy and a girl sharing a room would be unfair to both. Especially after both have had their own room."
"Well, then put the new baby in the room with Scarlett."
Sherlock actually laughed out loud at the idea. "Do you know what that room was before it was a room for Gabriel? When John first moved in? It was a cupboard where Mrs. Hudson stored linens and winter clothes. Granted, it was a walk-in, but the room is still rather small. She made it up for Gabriel when we heard that he was coming to live here. It barely has enough room for a little bed and the wardrobe. Much less for a cot for a baby."
"We could make it work," Molly replied.
"You also seem to be forgetting all of the not-so-nice things about having a new baby. The crying, the sleepless nights, the midnight feedings, the nappies… Remember how ecstatic we were when Scarlett started using the toilet? Are you sure you want to start all that over again?"
Molly smiled and shook her head. "No. No I'm not. Like I said, Sherlock… It's just a feeling. Maybe it will go away."
He gave a slow exhale as if he were extremely relieved. "Good."
"But it is a very strong feeling."
