A/N: Much angst in this chapter. Sorry 'bout that. Also thank you all so much for the very kind reviews last chapter. They were just the boost of confidence that I needed to write. Thank you so much!

On Monday, Sherlock is called to Headmaster Card's office for a private conference. All the Headmaster says is that Vince has been officially expelled, and that Perry is also planning to leave the school. Sherlock nearly jumps out of his seat with joy, and Headmaster Card lets him completely let out his excitement.

Sherlock calls Clement right after he gets out of the office, and Clement is just as happy as Sherlock. He lets Sherlock know that he can stay at that school, and that makes Sherlock all the more excited.

Weeks pass, and Sherlock doesn't really talk to Mycroft until the beginning of February. Finally, he answers Mycroft call when Mycroft sends a text first that says 'urgent'.

"Lestrade called," Mycroft says. "He needs your help."

"Why didn't he just call me?"

"I don't know, Sherlock, perhaps he wanted an excuse to talk to me."

"An excuse? So you're really not talking anymore?"

Mycroft sighs. "It's complicated."

"I'm not talking to him if you're not."

"Fine. I'll let him know that the murder he wants you to solve isn't that important. Goodbye, Sherlock."

"Wait!" Sherlock stops him.

"Yes?"

"I…I want the murder."

Sherlock can hear Mycroft smile. "Well, the victim is a twenty-two year old female. She was found under a bridge two days ago, and it's got every sign of a serial killer."

Sherlock jots down everything Mycroft tells him. She was strangled and her jewelry was missing, but it wasn't a theft gone wrong. Mycroft says the jewelry she had was very specific, pricey enough that the barman at the pub she'd been in remembered it. Mycroft adds that the barman remembered her leaving with a substantially larger man, and that the man may be the culprit.

"But they can't find the man?" Sherlock asks.

"Right."

"Alright. I'll call Lestrade."

"He said to go to the Yard right away."

"Alright," Sherlock says. "Thanks."

"Talk soon."

Sherlock hangs up and leaves immediately.

Sherlock makes the journey to the Yard alone. He's done it before, and Clement trusts him enough to make it down there.

He arrives and helps Lestrade as much as he can. Lestrade gives him the evidence: shoe samples from under the bridge, fingerprints from around the girl's neck, and a pink key that either the girl or the man dropped.

"So, you want to know where he is?" Sherlock asks after examining everything.

Lestrade nods.

"Judging by his boot print, he's probably a construction worker of some kind."

"Alright. How can you tell?"

"It's a specific type of boot. We had construction done last year, and I remember the men all had boots just like this. I asked one man where he got them, out of curiosity, if they were uniform, and he said they're not uniform, but they are recommended specifically for their job."

"Oh."

"The man doesn't make much money, you're looking for a small home."

"How do you figure?"

"Construction workers don't make much money, and he's been killing people and stealing things to sell."

"Oh."

"And the key," Sherlock picks it up. "Was it ran for DNA?"

"The girl's fingerprints were on the part you hold. We're just assuming it's her house key."

Sherlock bites his lip and examines it. "Look here," he says. "Right here, where you'd hook it to a clasp, it's all roughed up. It wouldn't be roughed up unless it was taken off the ring often, or once if it was forceful enough. It's his key, she yanked it off the ring to use to stab him."

"Oh…ok."

"Pink key, so it's not his key. He lives with a girlfriend, a sister, or his mother. It's doubtful he has a girlfriend, I mean he cares about people so little that he kills them for their possessions. So, a sister or a mother."

"He doesn't have any siblings."

"Well, then," Sherlock sets the key down. "He lives with his mother."

"And if he's fled? He's not there?"

"He's obviously not that bright. He'll be there."

"Right," Lestrade grabs his phone and calls for backup. When he hangs up, he turns back to Sherlock. "Thanks, Sherlock. I owe you one."

"Yes, you do," Sherlock says. "But you won't if you tell me what happened between you and my brother."

Lestrade sighs, pulling on his coat. "It's not my story to tell."

"He won't tell me. Congratulations, you're it."

Lestrade takes a deep breath. "Look, all I'm going to tell you is that he completely flipped out on me about a month ago. I thought it was just stress from moving, and his new job, but he's apparently excelling at everything and has adjusted well, so something else is really bothering him. I don't know what, but I'm giving him space."

"Why? Don't you like him anymore?"

"Of course I like him, Sherlock. A lot. But I can't force him to, in any way we could be, be with me if he doesn't want to be. I don't know if I did something or what, but he just…I don't know, Sherlock. He just snapped."

Sherlock furrows his brows.

"I've got to go. I'll call you if there's anything else."

Sherlock nods and Lestrade rushes out of the office.

Sherlock gets outside and takes his phone out to call John. It's Saturday, and John's mother is home, but Sherlock hopes he'll answer anyway.

"Hello?"

"Hey, John. How are you?"

They go on about how their day is going. Sherlock tells John all about the case while walking down the street, and before he knows it, Sherlock's a block away from his mother's office.

"I haven't seen my Mum in a few days," Sherlock says. "I think I'll pop in to say hello."

"That's nice, love."

"I'll call you when I'm home."

"Ok. I love you."

Sherlock hangs up as he enters the building and goes up to Rebecca's floor. Her secretary is in and smiles widely when Sherlock enters.

"Hello, Sherlock, how are you?"

"Hello, Sarah. I was just hoping to see my mother."

"She's not in, love. She's gone to lunch with your father."

Sherlock's face turns confused. "With my father? My father is busy with my uncle today."

"Oh," Sarah says, shuffling through her notes. "She said she had a lunch date, I just assumed she meant she was meeting your father."

"Huh," Sherlock says, still confused.

"I must have heard her wrong, love. 'Lunch date' means many things. Anyway, here's the address, it's just two blocks away. She's been gone a while, you'll probably catch her leaving."

Sherlock nods and takes the note. "Thanks, Sarah."

Sarah warmly smiles as the phone begins to ring. She answers it and Sherlock leaves.

Sherlock walks the two blocks, curious as to who his mother's lunch date was with. He figures it's a business colleague, knowing his mother has to meet with dozens of people a week.

When he gets to the restaurant, he peers into the window and spots his mother instantly. She's there with a man, as he expected, and they're talking across the table. His mother always has a smile, he's actually never seen her frown (not particularly in happiness, but because his mother knows she looks best with a smile), and she's smiling now. But this smile is different; she looks really happy.

And then he sees it. The ridiculously good looking man stands from the table and adjusts his tie, then leans over and kisses his mother. On the lips.

Sherlock's stomach turns as the man walks away to the restrooms, and Sherlock ducks out of sight when Rebecca looks around, towards where he's watching. He crawls out of view, then stands and runs away.

He wants to cry. He never expected his mother to be seeing anyone other than his father; he never thought his family would be one like many other families around him.

He doesn't know who to call. Of course he thinks of John first, John being someone who would at least kind of understand what's going through his mind since John's father did far worse to tear their family apart. But he doesn't want to bother John with his problems. Instead, he calls the only other person who would positively understand.

"Solved it?" Mycroft answers the call.

Sherlock sniffles. "Myc."

"What happened? What did Lestrade—"

"It wasn't him!" Sherlock snaps.

Mycroft takes a deep breath. "Tell me what happened."

"I…I went to see Mum at her office, and Sarah said she had a lunch date. So I went to the restaurant, and I…I saw…"

"Oh, Sherlock," Mycroft says. "Calm down, Brother. It's alright—"

"It's not alright! Mum's cheating on Dad and you tell me it's alright?!"

Mycroft sighs. "Of course it's not alright, Sherlock. But—"

"Why are you so calm?" Sherlock asks. Then, he realizes why. "You know, don't you? You've known? How long?!"

"Sher—"

"How long?!"

"I've known since I got here, but the affair's been going on longer."

"How did you find out?"

"The same way you did. I called to talk to mother, Sarah said she had a lunch date, but I knew that Dad was with you at school right at that moment. I asked if it was with a man, and Sarah said yes. I didn't know for sure, but this confirms it."

Sherlock sniffles again. "Does Dad know?"

"No. And you can't tell him."

"Why not?!"

"It's none of your business, Sherlock."

"Of course it is! I'm here, you're not! I see Dad and you don't! He deserves to know."

"Dad is an adult, Sherlock. He can figure it out."

Sherlock sniffles. "It's not fair."

"I know, Sherlock. But you can't tell him."

Sherlock huffs.

"Please, don't tell him."

"Alright."

"Thank you."

Sherlock doesn't say anything, he just thinks about the events of the afternoon. He remembers what Lestrade told him. "Is this why you flipped out on Lestrade?"

Mycroft doesn't reply at first, but finally he does. "Yes. I didn't react well to this, and I, as you say, 'flipped out' on him. And I regret it, but I can't take back the things I said."

"Yes, you can. Lestrade really likes you and you really like him."

"But, Sherlock, I—"

"Just take it back, please!"

"Why does it matter to you so much, Sherlock?"

"Because everybody keeps fucking up, Mycroft! John's dad, our mum, and now you! Nobody lasts, and I…" Sherlock's tears fall. "John and I…we…"

"You two are different, Brother. You and John really love each other, more than any love I've seen in two people. You two have always loved each other, ever since you were young boys, and nobody has ever doubted that. You and John are different."

"I don't believe it, Mycroft. How can I believe in love if Mum would rather be with someone other than Dad and you'd rather be with someone other than Lestrade?" Sherlock's breath begins to quicken.

"I wouldn't, Sherlock," Mycroft says, "I wouldn't rather be with anyone other than Lestrade. But it's difficult right now, and I said a lot of dumb things."

Sherlock's breathing only gets quicker. "Myc, I—"

"Calm down, Sherlock, you're going to hyperventilate."

"I can't breathe, Myc, I can't…my chest…"

"Sherlock, where are you? Find a bench and sit down. Slow down."

Sherlock can't slow his breathing down. His heart feels like it's going to pop out of his chest and his head feels lighter. "Myc, I—"

"Sherlock? Sherlock?!"

Everything goes black and Sherlock's body slumps to the ground.

He wakes up in the hospital. An oxygen tube is hooked to his nose and his chest hurts.

"Hey, baby."

Sherlock blinks to John's voice and sees John smiling back at him. All previous feelings of uneasiness about John fly out the window when Sherlock realizes that John is the one there when he wakes up. Clement isn't even in the room.

"How are you feeling?"

Sherlock licks his dry lips and John presses a straw to his mouth. Hydrated, he feels better. He clears his throat. "Better. What happened?"

"Panic attack, that's what Mycroft said. You were on the phone with him. Do you remember that?"

Sherlock nods.

"What were you talking about?"

Sherlock glances at the door to make sure Clement isn't returning right then. The coast is clear, so he tells John that he saw his mother kiss another man.

John's eyes grow wide. "Wow, babe. I'm so sorry."

"Thanks," Sherlock weakly says. "Where's my dad?"

"He stepped out to talk to Mycroft."

Sherlock nods.

John kisses Sherlock lightly, and right then Clement enters the room.

"He's awake," Clement says into his phone. "Yeah, talk later. Love you. Goodbye."

Sherlock watches him walk around the bed. "Who was that?"

"Myc. He's worried about you. Has this been happening a lot, son?"

Sherlock shakes his head. "Just today."

Clement nods. "What happened?"

Sherlock remembers Mycroft telling him not to tell Clement, so he lies. "I got a bit too worked up about a case. That's all."

Clement frowns and pushes the hair out of Sherlock's eyes. "Let's just stay off murders for a few weeks then, yeah?"

Sherlock nods.

Clement kisses his forehead, then his phone begins to ring. "It's your Mum," he says, then leaves the room again.

"You're not going to tell him?" John asks.

Sherlock shakes his head. "Mycroft said not to."

"Why?"

Sherlock shrugs. "Myc said it's none of my business."

"Of course it is. You're their kid."

"I know, but Myc said not to."

John nods. "I'm sorry, babe."

"Thanks."

John kisses his cheek again, then Clement returns.

"Your mum wants to have dinner tonight."

Sherlock frowns. "All of us?"

"No, just the two of you."

Sherlock frowns deeper.

"What's wrong?" Clement asks.

"Nothing, I…" Sherlock pauses. "I wanted to hang out with John."

Clement glances at John. "You can tomorrow, alright?"

Sherlock nods.

Sherlock gets home and changes for his dinner with Rebecca. He gets on his best suit, knowing his mum is going to take him somewhere nice, then goes downstairs to wait.

"Mum's upstairs," Clement says, finding Sherlock on the sofa. "This is nice, right? Date night with mummy."

Sherlock shrugs.

"You two used to go out all the time when you were young. Not as much as she took Mycroft out, but you and I would have our special days. Remember?"

Sherlock nods.

Clement ruffles his hair.

Rebecca descends the stairs minutes later. Clement meets her and takes her hand.

"You look amazing, my love," Clement says, kissing her.

Sherlock's stomach turns. His dad is still so in love with his mother, and he hates it.

"Thank you, Clement," Rebecca says. "We'll be back later. Come along, darling. We've got reservations."

Sherlock gets off the sofa and follows her out.

They silently ride to the restaurant, not talking in the back of the cab. They get into the restaurant without saying anything, and Rebecca is the first to talk.

"Are you upset with me, then?" she asks with a knowing tone.

Sherlock knows she knows that he knows about her affair. He figures Sarah told her that Sherlock stopped by, and that Sarah said she directed him to the restaurant. His mother isn't stupid.

"Yes," he says.

"That's a shame," Rebecca says. "Are you going to tell your father?"

Sherlock shrugs. "Why are you asking?"

"Because I care, darling."

"Then why are you cheating on my dad?"

Rebecca sighs, as if bothered. "I don't know why, Sherlock."

"If you're unhappy, just leave him."

"I'm not unhappy. I love your father very much."

"Then why are you doing this?!"

A few people from the tables around them glance over. Rebecca calmly takes a sip of her wine. Sherlock ignores the people and waits for an answer.

"I'm doing this because I want to, Sherlock," Rebecca says.

"That's the most selfish thing I've ever heard."

Rebecca just looks at him.

"He doesn't deserve to live with you cheating on him."

"You're right, Sherlock," she says.

"Tell him, or I will."

Rebecca nods. "If you want to, fine."

"Fine. I will."

Rebecca nods again.

Their meal continues in silence. Rebecca doesn't speak, so Sherlock doesn't. He just thinks about what to tell his father.

Rebecca takes him home and actually stays there. Sherlock assumes she's blocking him from telling Clement, but that's fine. He knows it's just giving him more time to think of what to tell his dad.

Mycroft calls before he falls asleep.

"How was dinner with Mum?" he asks.

"It was pointless. She told me not to tell Dad, I told her I'm going to anyway."

Mycroft sighs. "Are you sure about that?"

"He deserves to know."

"I know."

"So, yes, I'm sure."

"Alright, Brother."

"Have you talked to Lestrade?"

"Yes. He told me you closed the case."

"In minutes," Sherlock adds.

Mycroft chuckles.

"Did you talk about…anything else?"

"If you must know, yes, we did."

"And?"

"And I explained everything. I told him there's no excuse for what I said, but that I was really worked up about all of this. And I apologized."

"Good. What else?"

"That's all."

"That's all?! You're not together now?!"

"Of course not, Sherlock. We aren't together."

"Long distance relationship! Come on, Myc!"

Mycroft sighs. "We'll see, Sherlock. Anyway, I'm planning a trip to visit you in a few weeks. Maybe I'll see him while I'm there."

"You are? When?"

"The weekend of Valentine's Day. I'll be flying in that evening."

"Perfect, Myc! That's perfect!"

"Is it?"

"Fly in and go to see him on Valentine's Day, Myc! It's brilliant!"

Mycroft chuckles. "Sherlock, I—"

"Surprise him! Show up at his front door and surprise him!"

"Do you really think I should?"

"Yes!"

"Ok," Mycroft says. "I will."

"Perfect. He'll love it."

"Hopefully."

"He will. Trust me."

"Ok. I'll trust you. Now, you go to bed. You had a long day."

"I'm about to. Tomorrow I'm telling Dad."

"I don't think you should, Sherlock."

"I need to. Dad doesn't deserve this."

"Alright. Call me after, then."

"I will."

"Goodnight, Sherlock. Sleep well."

"Night, Myc."

Sherlock hangs up and plugs his phone in at his desk, then goes to bed and falls into a very fitful sleep.