John and Sherlock were awake early on Christmas Day. Mycroft had arranged for a car to be delivered for them to drive down to Sherlock's parents house. It was about a 2 hour journey out of London to get there and they had to be there for around 11am. They were picking Mary up at 9.
John loved the bottle of 25 year old Whisky that Sherlock had bought him. Sherlock was equally delighted with the new petri dishes and slides that John had bought him. Mrs Hudson had brought cooked breakfast up for them all to enjoy, along with gifts for them both. They had delighted her with a gift of a weekend away in the country for her to take with her sister.
Breakfast was nearly finished and the conversation was flowing, when Mrs Hudson casually enquired after Molly and Mary. Sherlock and John were both very silent.
"We're picking Mary up later and taking her with us to Christmas lunch at Sherlock's parents" John replied
"And Molly?"
Sherlock quickly ate a mushroom off his plate and concentrated on cutting a piece of bacon combining it with some egg
John responded for Sherlock "We've not seen Molly for some time, Mrs Hudson"
"Well I think it's a real shame. You two were so good together. Sherlock, you need to get your act together and talk to that girl. She loves you, you know."
"I know" came a quiet response from Sherlock.
The rest of the meal was eaten in silence, and then Mrs Hudson kissed them both, wished them merry Christmas, and headed back down to her flat with the empty plates.
"Have you spoken to Molly?" John casually enquired?
"No, not for a while." He paused and took a deep breath "I can't John."
"But you do want to, don't you?"
"Of course I do. I want nothing more than to get this Magnussen case sorted. To get it closed and to be able to move on, but I just can't see a way forward with it. I think I may have a glimpse of the end, but it's hopefully. Then once it's over, Molly and I can... Well, we just can. I do want her here, John. It's Christmas. We're having dinner with my parents. She should be here, John. She should..." his voice trailed off into nothing.
John looked at Sherlock and could see a man fighting emotion. A man who wanted nothing more than to get mad, to vent all his anger and hurt and to let the emotion out. But this was Sherlock Holmes and apart from the rare show of emotion on the day he had split with Molly, Sherlock had never let his emotions get out of control.
"C'mon John. It's almost 8. We have to pick Mary up in an hour, and we both have to shower first." With that, Sherlock marched out of the kitchen into the bathroom. John knew that marked the end of the conversation. No more would be said about Molly today.
John and Sherlock were in the car in no time. It was still a source of amusement to John that Sherlock could drive. Why Sherlock would waste his time learning a skill such as driving was beyond John
"It was my parents who made me", Sherlock explained. "They thought it was a useful life skill. That and learning to swim. Oh, and I'm quite useful on a skate board too. That wasn't my parents idea. That was mine. I did it to annoy Mycroft."
When they arrived to pick up Mary, Sherlock felt a wave of panic hit him. He was annoyed with himself for his lack of self control, but he couldn't help it. It was her eyes. When he looked into her eyes, he felt the shot; he felt the pain; he felt himself dying. He was glad when she climbed into the back, directly behind him so he didn't have to look at her in his rear view mirror.
The journey to Sherlock's parents was mostly in silence. John had met them briefly once before, and then for longer at the hospital when they had come to Sherlock's bedside as he lay gravely ill. John smiled to himself. Sherlock's parents were so very normal. So very loving and warm. So welcoming. It was so strange that they should have two sons such as Sherlock and Mycroft, who were so unlike them. John knew, from meeting his parents, that Sherlock actually had a massive capacity to love, if only he would let go. If only he'd realise that some emotions were actually good ones. That loving the right person was not human error at all. It was the most natural thing in the word. Sherlock and Molly together were the most natural thing in the world.
John and Mary were greeted with warmth by Sherlock's parents. They were made to feel extremely welcome and the Holmes family were generous hosts.
In the warmth and security of the Holmes family home, John took his time to talk to Mary, and Mary to talk to him. The pain between the two was obvious, and deep down Sherlock knew Mary and John talking and reconciling would mean the end of John living at Baker Street. That John would move back in with Mary and he would, once again, be alone in the flat. But it was a price he was willing to pay. For he knew that Magnussen had to be sorted once and for all. That the only way to ensure John's safety and the welfare of his child was to close the Magnussen case once and for all.
The day panned out to be interesting. Sherlock had never intended to drug his parents and his brother, but he had been left with little choice. He certainly hadn't meant to drug a heavily pregnant woman, although in a strange way, revenge did feel quite good.
The trip to Appledore hadn't turned out as expected. The vaults were not as he had expected. He had realised, with increasing clarity during the visit, that there was only one way out. John had his revolver, and Magnussen had to be stopped.
"Oh little brother, what have you done?" asked Mycroft looking down on Sherlock from a helicopter.