A/N: Short chapter but I can tell you're all reeeeally upset about the cliffhanger. Sorry 'bout that, won't happen again! Hope you enjoy. Please review.

Sherlock slowly sits on the chair across from Clement. He shifts uneasily, trying to think of the words he needs, and the silence is long.

"Well?" Clement asks.

Sherlock licks his lips. "Dad, I'm going to come right out with it. Mum is…Mum's…she's…she's got—"

"She's having an affair, isn't she?" Clement plainly asks.

Sherlock looks up and into Clement's eyes. He slightly nods.

Clement sighs and rests his elbows on his desk. He hangs his head and runs his hands through his hair. "Fuck…" he mutters.

Sherlock's rarely ever heard his father curse, Clement only ever curses when he's that angry or that upset. Sherlock watches him, unsure of what to say.

"Dad?" Sherlock quietly asks.

Clement doesn't lift his head. "I should've expected this. I should've…" he shakes his head. "I…"

"It's not your fault, Dad," Sherlock whispers.

Clement lifts his head. "Shouldn't I be telling you that?"

Sherlock shrugs.

"Who else knows?"

Sherlock bites his lip, knowing his father wants the least bit of humiliation as possible.

"Does Mycroft know?" Clement asks.

Sherlock slowly nods.

Clement rubs his face again. "Fuck."

"I'm sorry, Dad."

Clement shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Sherlock. I'm sorry that you are the one who had to tell me. I shouldn't have been so blind."

Sherlock doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't say anything. He squirms uncomfortably in his chair and wants to change the subject, but this particular subject will never go away.

Clement roughly runs his hands through his hair and stands. He looks angry and hurt, not a look Sherlock loves on his father. Clement proves his emotion by slapping the pen holder off of his desk with a loud yell. Sherlock jumps in shock, and his heart beats quickly.

"Shit," Clement whispers, bending to clean up the mess he'd just made. He gets the pen holder back on the desk and stands. "I'm sorry," he says.

Sherlock just nods.

"Look, I…I really need to think alone. You and Declan should go to John's for a while."

Sherlock stands and nods again. He's nervous, unsure of what to say or what to do. But he needs to know that Clement isn't upset with him.

"Dad, are you…are you mad at me?"

Clement shakes his head. "No, Sherlock, no not you. Come here."

Sherlock stands and goes to his dad, and Clement wraps his arms around Sherlock. Sherlock eases and hugs back, and Clement digs his nose into Sherlock's hair.

"We'll be ok," Clement whispers. "I just need to think, ok?"

Sherlock nods. "Ok."

Clement kisses his head and pulls back. "I love you. Thank you for telling me."

Sherlock nods again. "Love you too, Dad."

Clement lets him go and leads him to the door. "Just go to John's for a bit, ok? I need to think."

"Dad…" Sherlock mutters as Clement reaches for the doorknob. "Are you ok?"

Clement comfortingly rubs his back. "I just need some time alone."

"Ok," Sherlock frantically says, "Just don't…don't do anything bad, ok?"

Clement looks confused. "Bad?"

Sherlock thinks of the words to use. He knows how destructive he feels when he's angry and hurt, he knows the bad thoughts he's had when he feels low, and he doesn't want his dad to have those feelings, too. He wouldn't wish those thoughts on anyone. And he knows the bouts Clement's had with depression. Of course, Sherlock fears the worst.

"Don't…you know…don't hurt…" Sherlock looks up into his dad's eyes.

Realization sparks in Clement's face. "Oh!" He takes Sherlock tight in his arms again. "Oh, Sherlock. I'm fine, really. I just want to think alone, ok? I promise, I'm fine."

Sherlock sighs relief. "Ok."

Clement kisses his head again, then lets Sherlock go.

Sherlock runs upstairs to get Declan, then they make their way to John's.

"So…" Declan starts as they silently walk down the street. "So your mum…"

"Yep."

"How'd you find out?"

"I saw my mum kiss another man."

"Shit, dude. I'm sorry."

"It's ok. I think. I hope."

"What do you think will happen? Think your dad will divorce your mum?"

Sherlock shrugs.

"What do you want to happen?"

Sherlock shrugs again. "I don't know. My mum's hardly around anyway. I guess I wouldn't want them to get divorced, but it wouldn't be different if they did. I do want my dad to be happy, though."

"Yeah, nobody deserves that," Declan agrees.

They silently walk the rest of the way to John's, and finally arrive a minute later. Sherlock rings the doorbell and waits, and seconds later, John throws the door open.

He looks shocked. "Hey, love—"

Sherlock kisses him quickly, then pushes past him to enter the house.

John looks confused at Declan, then moves out of the way for Declan to enter.

"He told his dad," Declan says by way of apology for his cousin.

"Oh!" John sighs, closing the door.

Declan hangs his coat on the rack and Sherlock just flops onto the sofa, coat and all.

John goes to Sherlock and kneels next to him. He's face to face with Sherlock and rubs Sherlock's side.

Declan clears his throat to get John's attention. "Hey, uhm, I need to finish my homework, mind if I—"

"Oh, yeah. Uh, kitchen or my bedroom; make yourself at home."

"Thanks, man," Declan says, going upstairs to John's bedroom.

John directs his attention back to Sherlock. "You ok?"

"Just worried."

"About their marriage, or—"

"Just about my dad."

John nods.

"He was really, really mad."

"At you?"

Sherlock shakes his head. "At himself, mostly. I don't want him to do anything bad."

John knows what Sherlock means. "He'll be fine, ok? And after this, now that your dad knows, it can only get better."

"Better? How?"

"Well," John runs his fingers through Sherlock's hair. "When everything peaked with my parents, it was better after my dad…left. My mum was sad, but at least we weren't getting hurt anymore."

"Sorry, John, but my situation isn't exactly the same as yours."

"I know," John kisses his cheek. "But it still hurts, right?"

Sherlock nods.

"It'll get better."

Sherlock only puckers his lips, so John leans forward and kisses him lightly.

Sherlock and Declan return home around ten, long after they left. When they get there, they find the entire house (even their bedrooms) completely spotless, and Clement is scrubbing the kitchen.

They hastily make their way into the room, unsure of how Clement is feeling now.

"Hello, boys!" he cheerily calls. "How was your visit with John?"

"Fine…" Sherlock says, going to him. "How are you, Dad?"

"Perfectly well, thanks," Clement says, kissing Sherlock's head.

Sherlock yanks his head away, immediately smelling alcohol on his father.

Clement doesn't drink often; Sherlock can only count a handful of times in his life where he's seen his dad drunk. He doesn't care for it, he doesn't like seeing his dad anything less than his normal self (he also hates when Clement is ill), and now is no different.

"Come on, Dad," Sherlock says, tugging on Clement's arm. "Bed."

Suddenly, his dad begins to cry. The sobs are hidden by manic laughing, though, so that startles Sherlock even more. Declan just gasps and stands back.

"I can't sleep there," Clement says between laughs. "I can't go to sleep in my bed, son!"

Sherlock frowns, feeling more than sad for his father. "You can sleep in my bed."

Clement roughly shakes his head. "I can't do that!" he yells into Sherlock's ear.

Sherlock winces and drags his dad to the stairs. "Ok. Myc's bed, then. Is that alright?"

"Yes!" Clement yells again, stumbling onto the first step.

Sherlock grunts as Clement almost falls on the fifth step. "How were you perfectly scrubbing, with your bare hands, a butcher's knife two seconds ago but now you can't walk up the stairs?"

"Talent," Clement whispers.

Sherlock rolls his eyes.

"I love you, Sherlock," Clement says.

"I love you too, Dad," Sherlock replies, more than a little annoyed.

They finally get up to Mycroft's bedroom, where Sherlock takes Clement's shoes off and makes Clement lay down on the bed. Sherlock makes sure his dad doesn't feel sick, then goes downstairs to get him a glass of water.

Declan's in the kitchen when he gets down there.

"How is he?" Declan asks.

"Something tells me I shouldn't have told him."

Declan pats his shoulder. "It's alright, dude. He just needed a bit of therapy, that's all."

"I hope that's it."

Declan nods. "I'm going to bed. You should, too."

"I will, as soon as I make sure my dad falls asleep."

Declan nods again, then leaves Sherlock.

Sherlock gets his dad three water bottles and takes them upstairs. When he enters Mycroft's bedroom, he hears soft snores coming from under the duvet. He sighs relief, then leaves the water on the bedside table and leaves.

He calls Mycroft as soon as he gets to his room.

"What is it, Sherlock? I'm at an important dinner."

Sherlock does think about waiting until later to tell Mycroft, that it can wait, but he's going to bed as soon as he can, so he blurts it out. "I told Dad."

Mycroft is silent for a second and Sherlock can hear him apologize to his meal mates. Sherlock hears him leave a restaurant, entering a busy New York street, then ask, "What happened?"

"I just figured, you know, I really want him to know. He was in his office, so I just went and told him. He was angry, he yelled and slapped the pen holder off his desk. Then he cleaned it up and told me to go to John's. We returned hours later and he was completely drunk and cleaning the whole house."

"Where is he now?" Mycroft asks.

"Asleep in your bed."

Mycroft sighs. "Why did you want him to know so badly, Sherlock? Why couldn't you just let it go?"

Sherlock grows angry. "Because Dad isn't an idiot!" he yells into the phone. "Dad is the best man I know besides you and he doesn't deserve for his to be fucking cheating on him!"

Mycroft pauses, waiting for Sherlock to go on, but Sherlock stops. "Is it all about Dad or is this about you, too?"

Sherlock sinks, even though Mycroft isn't there talking to him in person. "Why doesn't she care about me? This just seals it. She's never here, she never spends time with me, and now she's cheating on my dad. Why doesn't she care?"

"She does, Sherlock. Mum cares for us in her own way. She just…she cares for herself more."

"Obviously."

"I'm glad you did what you think is right."

"Thanks," Sherlock mutters.

"Now, I've got to go. I'll see you on Friday."

"Myc," Sherlock stops him from hanging up. "When you say, 'important dinner', do you mean—"

"I'm not on a date, Sherlock. I'm at a business dinner with important clients. I must go. See you soon."

"Ok," Sherlock says. "Bye."

"Goodnight, Brother."

Sherlock hangs up and decides to call John to tell him about what's happened. John just says he's sorry, that Sherlock shouldn't feel this stress, and though Sherlock agrees, it doesn't make him feel much better. After he hangs up with John, he goes to bed and tries to push everything out of his mind.