Author's Note: Hey guys! Thanks for the awesome reviews from those of you who did last chapter. It made me happy during a very stressful time. So this is late like I expected but like… I'm actually surprised I got this up today, too. Let me know what you think of this, I think its okay. Please read, review, and enjoy!

Disclaimer: Clearly I don't own Sherlock. The show is the baby of Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss, while Sherlock Holmes itself is the creation of Arthur Conan Doyle.

The First Time They Watched Margot Sleep All Night

It was no surprise to find that Mycroft wasn't sleeping in the early hours of the morning. Especially given the confrontation that happened with Rudy a few days ago. He hadn't slept a whole night since then. Anthea was sure he got a few hours here and there, enough to keep him sane, but she'd always wake up in the middle of the night and he was gone. The baby alarm would wake Anthea up. She'd go take care of little Margot's need. Then she'd go find Mycroft, ask him the same set of question, then go back to bed.

It was hard because Mycroft was distant and contemplative. This is how he always got when his world got upset by something. He internalised the hell out of it and shut off to everything around him. Anthea was used to it but she was also just a little afraid. She always thought of what happened when Sherlock got shot. But they'd made it through Eurus since then. She'd learnt. You left him his distance; you didn't hover. You were there when he was ready for you and not a moment sooner. Of course the occasional little reminder that you were waiting in the wings (like the set of nightly questions) was a reminder that you were there if he needed it. And who knows? If it was minor enough he wouldn't even need more than that. One day he'd just be fine again. Though considering all the people they had to tell about it – Violet and Varya in particular – Anthea doubted that.

Responsibility for the family always fell on Mycroft, didn't it? Even when he didn't want it, or didn't deserve it. It just comes falling into his lap. He had Anthea now to help him. He always had but through Margot she was family now. And Sherlock was in a much better place this past year. If he was told first he could help too. He had been doing so well taking over a lot of Eurus' care. Everyone was proud of him but John and Anthea – as the Holmes' keepers – were particularly proud.

No baby alarm went off but Anthea woke up almost in preparation for one. This tended to happen around 4 in the morning every night. Anthea's body had become so accustomed to being woken up to change Margot's nappy that she sometimes found herself awake before there was a cry. Was that good maternal skills or just conditioning?

Oh well. Whatever it was she was awake now. She'd take the baby monitor with her and go check on Mycroft. Then after Margot (inevitably) cried Anthea could go straight back to bed.

The two places Anthea went to first – the office and the kitchen – came up empty. After some searching she found Mycroft in Margot's room. Peculiarly he was on his knees on the ground in front of her crib watching her sleep. It set off some alarm bells in Anthea's head that suggested it might be time for more than the usual set of questions. Of course she had to start there.

"Hey." She announced herself softly from the doorframe.

"Hello." Mycroft replied with maybe just a tinge of melancholy behind his walls. Anthea walked into the room. She came to sit down right next to him with her legs crossed. She joined him in watching Margot silently for a bit. It would let him get used to her presence and let his guard down a little.

"You okay?" She asked the first of the set of questions.

"I'm not sure." Mycroft responded in the same slight melancholic tone. It caught Anthea off guard. All the other times the standard answer was yes. She inhaled sharply and nodded four times.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked. This too was on the list, regardless of the answer to the last question, just in case.

"No." Mycroft bite back.

A beat.

Anthea bristled.

Mycroft stretched his neck from side to side.

"Apologies." He said.

"It's okay." She said calmly. Anthea was used to the answer being no but it was usually a lot calmer than that. Or at least not so sudden. She was beginning to think she was pushing his buttons. Either that or he'd crack without an intervention and it was hard to say which one it was. Mycroft rubbed at his forehead.

"Can I get you anything?" Anthea asked the last question on the list.

"No thank you, dear." Now that was the usual answer in the usual tone. Anthea nodded again. Normally this is where she'd walk off and go back to bed but she was waiting on Margot to demand something so she might as well stay here with Margot and Mycroft.

Why was Mycroft watching Margot sleep? Any other father and it would be viewed upon as sweet and nothing more. Mycroft it was still sweet but to Anthea it didn't seem like a thing he'd do regularly. Or was it? They hadn't really discovered what kind of parents they were yet. Maybe this was a normal thing for Mycroft. But the sitting on the floor suggested otherwise. Anthea could imagine him coming in to check on her and maybe staying at the door for a minute or two but sitting on the floor – and not the rocking chair – suggested vigil. A long watch. Why?

Rudy, of course. But what about it?

Anthea could feel it the way she always could when something in the family happened. The sadness that radiated off of Mycroft. It reminded her of when they planned Sherlock's death. The deep loss that followed Mycroft even though he knew his brother was alive was insufferable. It wasn't that deep now but it still radiated off his skin and made the hairs on Anthea's arms stand on end.

She breathed deeply.

She couldn't stand it anymore. She had to say something. But what? What to not make it worse for herself? What that could not be taken the wrong way? What out of all the things Rudy said?

Anthea tucked a curl behind her ear. Mycroft's eye twitched like he knew that was a sign that Anthea was going to talk.

"I just want to say-" She began.

"Anthea." Mycroft growled in a warning and a plea.

"Jamie is really creative." She continued. "She was great a drama. Better than me. She could have been an actress and I think she was really good in art too, the teachers loved her. She could have been an actor or a director, or maybe an artist like your cousin." She said. Mycroft looked down then looked away, his feathers ruffled. "But she did make up because that's what she wanted to do. It's what makes her happy."

"Alice." Mycroft sighed.

"Walter could have had James' job if he never got injured but I know he loves his job now. And who knows, he might have hated being in charge." She gave Mycroft a lopsided smile. The genius rubbed his forehead again.

"I know, Alice." Mycroft sighed heavily.

"And the things he said about your Dad's family-"

"My father's parents disliked my mother immensely. You cannot blame her brother for baring them ill will." Mycroft hissed.

A pause.

"They loved you kids though, right?"

"Adored us." Mycroft replied in a robotic tone.

Anthea fell silent again. She'd done her best. That's all she was going to do. Any more and she might risk going too far and setting off more emotions than Mycroft could handle. He was already conflicted between hiding from it all and being respectful to Anthea, she shouldn't push it. So she sat there next to him watching Margot again. Watching their precious little girl sleep.

She was too sweet. She might not stay that way. She might get one of their attitude problems and she'll no doubt be sarcastic as they come but she'll always been this cute little baby to Anthea. Sleeping while her parents watched her. Unaware of what the rest of the world – the rest of the family – were doing. For the most part she had an amazing family within the Holmes' but they did not come without their fair share of problems… Maybe more… or just to a deeper degree. She'd be alright, though. If something happened to Mycroft and Anthea then Jamie or Sherlock would take her with loving arms. She'd have a better shot as an orphan than Anthea did, and way more than Mary.

"You know, I used to think Mummy wasted her potential, too." Mycroft spoke sudden as if the conversation hadn't died like fifteen minutes ago. It caught Anthea by surprise but she didn't flinch or look his way. They both had their eyes still on Margot. "Not by marrying my father, despite what Rudy thinks. God knows that woman needs support to survive and my father is the only one who can handle her." He muttered and looked to the side, probably rolling his eyes. Anthea laughed at the irony of it and Mycroft knew that's why she was laughing. He looked at her with a quirked eyebrow.

"Pot, kettle." She said through a cheeky smirk. Mycroft pursed his lips and tilted his head from side to side, not entirely disagreeing with her.

"She wasted her potential having children." Mycroft said. There was a poignant pause as Anthea watched his profile. "I thought that for years and still do to a certain extent. Given what she could have accomplished." Anthea bit her lip and nodded silently, prompting Mycroft to continue when he wanted. His eyes flickered all over Margot. "She may not be as brilliant as even Sherlock but she is a talented mathematician." Anthea had seen the books. She had heard her talking to Mycroft and even Eurus.

"I know." Anthea smiled. Mycroft did not.

"She wasted it to have children." There was contempt in his voice mixed with that underlying sadness. Anthea opened her mouth and Mycroft held up his hand. "I know. Whatever makes you happy." He repeated the moral of her prior words. "But did it make her happy? A drug addict, An unclassifiable mental patient, and the secretive disappointment." Anthea felt the air escape from her body. It was like a punch to her own gut and not just Mycroft letting himself down. She moved closer to him so their shoulders were touching.

"Myc," She sighed.

"Its okay, Ali." He stopped her. "It's okay. It's true." Anthea couldn't take it. She turned her body to face him and rested her forehead against his shoulder.

"Of course it made her happy. You all make her happy. Have you seen her face when you and Sherlock are at their place?" Anthea said. Violet was blissful. The mother hen loved her children nearby. Her love for Margot was also proof. An extension of her love of Mycroft.

Silence.

Anthea felt Mycroft's shoulder shift as he moved his neck from side to side.

"I know. I know it did. As much negative emotion it caused them, she and father both loved it." He replied. They did. They probably did this with their kids, too. Or at least with Mycroft – being nervous first time parents like Anthea and Mycroft were too. "I understand that more now than I ever did before." Ah. And there is why they were in there staring at Margot. Anthea moved her head so her temple was on Mycroft's shoulder and she could see the crib again.

"Your mum knew what she wanted. If she wanted a career she would have had one." Anthea said fondly.

"She did what made her happy." Mycroft hummed.

"So what's the problem?" Anthea asked. Mycroft sighed. Silence fell. Again. For about two minutes.

"If we were given the same choice Margot would not be here." Mycroft said. Anthea's heart panged and she felt herself grow so cold even the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She stared at Margot feeling guilt.

"Oh." She said. It was the most guilt riddled monosyllable word ever muttered.

"You might." Mycroft reasoned? Or maybe placated? "You chose her over me and I'm thankful for that." Anthea shook her head, her head flicking her in the chin.

"It doesn't matter." She said. She rubbed Mycroft gently and quickly on the back. "You don't have to choose anything, you're your dad in this case and I, as your assistant, decided for you." She smiled proudly – forcedly – at him. "And I'm only having the one, not three, and I'm an assistant, not a scientist or mathematician, so I can have my cake and eat it too." Mycroft cringed but chuckled.

"You're a perfect assistant." He smiled genuinely at her. "And you're shaping up to be a good mother, too." Anthea snuggled closer to Mycroft.

"So what's the problem?" Anthea asked again.

"Nothing and everything." Mycroft replied in a wistful whisper. "How to tell everyone." Anthea wrapped her arms around Mycroft's torso.

"Sherlock first." She said. "I'll tell your mum like a promised. See if Sherlock can help you tell Varya. Let Varya tell her brother."

"Logically, yes…" Mycroft replied. Anthea squeezed him. His hand touched her arm.

Silence. Again. But this time a good one.

It would be convenient if Margot began crying here. If the conversation was closed off by their daughter asking for attention. Unfortunately the world is not quite as artistic as Anthea or Mycroft would want it be most of the time. More people would get their just consequences if that was the case.

No. The room remained quite except from the occasional shift from the parents and a small little noise that came from Margot once. In her determination to wait it out and just watch Margot with Mycroft until the little girl cried Anthea almost fell asleep on Mycroft's shoulder multiple times.

Around the third or fourth time she blinked to force herself awake Anthea realised that a measurable amount of time had passed since she entered the baby's room. The atmosphere in the room had shifted in a way that suggested you could no longer call it late at night and instead way too early in the morning.

Anthea sighed and rubbed her eyes.

"She's not going to cry while I'm awake, is she?" Anthea lamented a little. That's what she gets for trying to schedule a baby. That's what she gets for trying to get one up on a Holmes baby.

"I'm afraid not." Mycroft answered. Anthea could hear a smile in his voice. At least she got that out of this. She got some time with Mycroft and more importantly she got some special time with Mycroft while they watched their girl. A memory they could both hold dear. Something Anthea could tell Margot about one day. "Go back to bed, my dear." Mycroft patted Anthea's knee. "I'll take care of her if she cries."

Anthea thought about it. She shifted and almost moved to get to her feet. Then she looked at Margot and felt Mycroft's very presence next to her. It was a nice family moment. It was a very them kind of family moment. Anthea settled back down.

"No." Anthea said softly. "I think I'll stay here a bit longer."

She'd regret that later when she was dead tired and Margot actually did need her attention, but no one ever claimed that the people in this house ever made healthy choices. More like whatever made them happy… at the time.

Author's Note: How was it? Please let me know. Your feedback really helps me to keep going. Thanks to last chapter's guest reviewers; Guest, and Observant Potato. All reviews make me happy. I do hope to see you all in five days again!