"Where on earth were you?" Violet rushed out of the front door as Molly and Sherlock came to the porch.
"I was-" Sherlock started to say.
"We were all so worried." Violet grabbed Sherlock into a bear hug and refused to let go until Sherlock reciprocated it. He gave her a halfhearted hug in return.
"I'm fine Mum." Sherlock spoke softly, looking down at his mother.
"You scared us." Violet took Sherlock's face between her hands and began to stroke her thumb across his cheek. "John was practically besides himself and your father-"
"Dad's here?" Sherlock suddenly got very rigid and took a step back from his mother.
"He came soon after Molly left to find you. He's sitting down at the table now…He's better now Sherlock: hasn't had a drop of alcohol since you left." Violet's hands slide down to Sherlock's arms as she ran then up and down, trying to comfort him. "He's much better now."
"I want to go to my room." Sherlock stared straight ahead and his voice carried no emotion.
Violet's hands dropped and her face fell a little. "Okay sweetie. I'll have someone bring you some food…but you have to eat dinner with everyone tomorrow. Promise?"
"I promise." Sherlock gave his mother a quick kiss on the forehead before running into the house. Violet watched as he disappeared and heaved a heavy sigh.
"I'm sorry Molly. Thank you very much for going after him." Violet ushered Molly's indoors and followed after her.
"It's not a problem; that's what I'm here for. But about his father…"
"When Sherlock was smaller, his father contracted alcoholism."
"Contracted?"
"Mr. Holmes's best friend died when Sherlock was eleven. He began to drink to drown out the sorrows and soon found that he needed it to live. Mycroft, being older, understood the situation. Sherlock, however, felt neglected. Mr. Holmes never hit anyone: you can be sure I would have left him if he hurt my boys…but Sherlock was never a normal child and he got teased. He was at a tender age and he didn't really have anyone to take care of him. I was taking care of my husband and Mycroft had school to worry about. We all did what we could, but I don't think he's ever forgiven his father for leaving him alone."
"That's so sad."
"The minute Theodore heard what had happened to Sherlock, he rushed out here. He had been London with Mycroft helping with anything he could." Mrs. Holmes gave one last glance to the stairs, before walking into the dining room with Molly behind her.
"So, if you don't find it too rude of me to ask, who exactly are you?" the white haired man who Molly assumed was Mr. Holmes asked Molly. He was wearing black dress pants that contradicted perfectly with his blue sweater. This was the first time since sitting down for dinner that the silence had been broken. There had been too much eating going on to chat.
"I'm Molly Hooper. I'm a nurse and Mycroft hired me to take care of Sherlock."
"Oh." The man smiled making Molly smile in return. "How is he doing?"
"He's doing quite well."
"Has he gotten into trouble yet?"
Mary and John snorted at the other end of the table.
"When isn't he in trouble?" John smiled.
"Very true…I know you've both heard this story" Mr. Holmes turned to look at John and Mary before turning back to Molly "but there was one day when Sherlock was eight. I had left him alone while I read a book. I assumed he would be fine until I heard this terrible crash from the kitchen. I ran in to see lots of broken bowls and plates on the ground with Sherlock just standing there. He had tried to get a plate and a bowl to do an experiment on a frog that he had found in a puddle and all of the plates came crashing down." Violet gave a chuckle and looked at her husband lovingly.
"I remember coming home after that happened. Everyone tried to play it off like nothing was wrong. Mycroft even tried to distract me from going into the kitchen" Violet's chuckled.
"After we cleaned up, he realized that the frog was gone and was completely distraught." Mr. Holmes continued. "He thought he had killed the poor thing when he knocked the plates over. It turned out that the frog had slipped out of his pocket when he was walking back to the house. He was so relived." Everyone gave a hearty chuckle.
"He's not going to come down, is he?" Mr. Holmes asked, sobering the mood.
"No sir, I'm afraid he's not." Molly said, giving an apologetic look.
"I know it's silly, but I had hoped to talk with him-"
"He did promise to eat with us tomorrow…" Molly said, trying to lift his spirits. "And..and I was going to give him his food anyway and I will tell him that you were thinking of him…if you want me to."
Mr. Holmes's face lit up like a flame; all at once and beautiful to behold. "Are you sure?"
"Of course…now, if I could be excused, I'll take Sherlock his dinner." Molly gave a nod to the others at the table and got a plate of food for Sherlock from the kitchen and stealthily snuck upstairs. She gave a gentle knock on Sherlock's door.
"Sherlock?" She called quietly "Can I come in? I have your food." When there wasn't any reply she cautiously opened the door to find Sherlock lying on his bed, rolled into a ball. His knees were to his chest and he didn't seem to notice that anyone had entered.
"What exactly are you doing?" Molly asked as she closed the door behind her.
"Oh sorry" Sherlock seemed to shake himself out of his head "I was thinking."
"May I ask what you were thinking about?" Molly handed Sherlock the food as he pulled himself into a sitting position.
"That depends entirely on if you are expecting an answer or not." It was meant to be sassy, but it really just came out tired.
"You're father wants to talk with you…I think it would be a good idea." Molly whispered, almost hoping that Sherlock wouldn't hear her. She heard Sherlock take a sharp intake of breath and then heave a deep sigh. Molly sat in uncomfortable silence for what seemed like ages.
"Are you ok?"
"I'm fine." Sherlock said too quickly.
"You know if you weren't fine…that would be okay." Molly whispered as she sat down next to Sherlock.
Sherlock's answer was to start eating his food. He attempted to seem like he wasn't hungry at all, but the minute the food hit his stomach he realized how famished he was. His eating speed quicken and Molly couldn't help but smile.
"Were you hungry?"
"Shut up." Sherlock said through a mouth full of food. Molly let out a peal of laughter and laughed even harder when Sherlock scowled.
"After you're done eating, do you want to go to bed, or shall I read to you again?" Molly asked after she had quieted her laughter.
"I'm not a child." Sherlock pouted.
"I'll go get my pajamas on. You can decide while I'm gone."
When Molly returned, she found the room in darkness and a lump in the bed that she assumed was Sherlock.
"I don't have to sleep here if-"
"No" Sherlock rolled over quickly to face her "please stay."
Molly nodded and snuggled under the covers. She lay on her back and stared at the ceiling, unsure of how Sherlock wanted the sleeping arrangements to work. She heard the rustling of a hand moving and soon felt Sherlock's arm work its way under her neck. She felt him tug at her, silently asking her to roll over towards him. She complied and felt the hand leave her neck to go to her waist. Sherlock slowly wound his arms around Molly's waist, being careful to watch her face for any signs of discomfort. When there was none, he moved his head to the crook of her neck. He felt her hands slip around his neck and wind into his hair.
"Thank you." Sherlock whispered.
"You're welcome." Molly whispered back.
Soon both of them were sleeping peacefully, without any sign of a nightmare.
"Molly?" Mary knocked one Sherlock's bedroom door. "Molly, are you in there? It's time to get up." When there was still no answer, Mary slowly opened to find that the room was empty. "Molly? Where are you?"
"Oh, sorry!" Mary turned around to find Molly fully dressed in the doorway behind her. "I was just in the library reading."
"No, it's fine. I just wanted you to get breakfast before it got cold." Mary grinned.
"Thank you very much. Do you know where Sherlock went? I tried to see how he was doing this morning, but he was already gone."
"He left you this." Mary's grinned widened as she took a slip of paper out of her pocket and handed it to Molly.
"Gone on a case, don't worry…signed Sherlock" Molly read aloud. "Did John go with him?"
"Actually, he let John stay here. Told him he should be spending some time with me."
"That was rather sweet of him."
"Yeah, that's what worries me. Sherlock doesn't do 'sweet' that often."
Molly shrugged, before leaving the room and going down to breakfast.
"What do you girls want for breakfast?" Mr. Holmes asked as Mary and Molly walked into the kitchen. Molly had to hold back some giggles when she saw that Mr. Holmes was fully dressed except for his bunny slippers. "I promised Mrs. Hudson a day off, so you'll have to deal with my cooking."
"I'll just have some oatmeal, thank you." Molly replied.
"Well, I'm afraid that won't do. I'm not very good at making oatmeal." Mr. Holmes shrugged.
"Then what are you good at making?" Mary asked.
"Bacon." Mr. Holmes gave a sheepish grin.
"Bacon sounds yummy to me." Mary laughed.
"I'll have bacon too…but would you mind telling me where the honey is?"
"Why?" Mr. Holmes turned to look at Molly, his face in the same look of confusion that she had come accustomed to seeing on Sherlock's face.
"It's a weird habit I've had since I was a kid. I like to have tea with honey whenever I had bacon. I was only ever allowed to have either on Sundays at the orphanage." Molly gave an embarrassed grin.
"I remember someone telling me something along that same line a long time ago." Mr. Holmes gave a sad smile and went back to making the bacon. "You remind me of him." Mr. Holmes said quietly.
"Who?" Mary asked.
"Edward Berkley. He was my best friend since we were twelve. He looked a lot like you, actually." Mr. Holmes raised his head after putting the strips of bacon in the pan "Same brown eyes and smile. His nose was constantly in a book and he used to just rant to me about them." Mr. Holmes gave a small laugh then his face fell. "Excuse me girls. I'm just an old man that likes to talk." Thankfully, the bacon started to sizzle before anything else could happen. Mr. Holmes grabbed plates for both the woman and gave them their food while Mary made tea. When they had all settled down for some food, there was a knock at the door. One of the servants came it and spoke to Molly.
"I'm sorry miss, but he insists on seeing you."
"Who insists on seeing me?"
"Archie, miss. Hurry please. I think he's hungry."