John was sitting across from Greg, a wooden desk separating the pair. The detective still had his recent phone call with the elder Holmes brother on his mind, that's probably because the exchange took place about 5 minutes before John arrived. Mycroft sounded, well desperate, telling Lestrade that he can tell John everything, that he may be the only person to save to save Sherlock.
Greg had played everything over in his mind, he would explain to John that Sherlock was once a happy man; he got married and even had a lovely daughter who he named Ava. Yet the detective just couldn't make the words come out of his mouth, instead he just blurted, "Sherlock got married, had a kid, they both went missing and not even Mycroft could find them."
John took all this information in before asking "What does this have to do with Sherlock's parents?" Before Greg could even formulate a response, a voice by the door spoke, "It's not to do with my parents, it's to do with the house. The last time I saw Reyna and Ava was at my parents. I had an argument with Reyna; she picked Ava, who was only 4 months old at the time, out of the cot and left. We looked for months to try and find them but with no luck." Sherlock Holmes looked ready to cry. He had just poured his heart out to John and now he looked so warn out, as if his 12 years of searching had finally caught up with him.
John looked at Sherlock, he could see the hurt in his eyes, the loss, the grief but also he spotted a wee spark, determination, hope that this wife was still out there. "You'll find her Sherlock, you've got so many people who want to help you, trust me."
Sherlock nodded, "I know John but it's been 12 years with no luck, no evidence, nothing."
Just then Greg's phone pinged with a message, "Until know, Sherlock, Mycroft thinks he's found them."