Take This Hand, We Can Do It.

Authors Note: So, break is over! It's been a nice break, I won't lie but I'm ready to start writing daily again. I was going to be writing a oneshot to go with Give His Heart a Break, and I still might yet, but right now I want to start a fresh. I've been toying with this idea since the middle of GHHAB and now I'm ready to write it. I don't really know where I am quite going with this story. I've been busy and not had time to plan it out and right now, I know the first chapter and possibly the second – we'll see. So, please enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock in any way or form.

Chapter One: It All Went On.

Four years.

It took four years to make sure everything was safe.

It took four years to clear his name.

It took four years for him to reveal himself to the public.

It took four years for him to return home.

But he did.

And everything was different.

Lestrade and his wife were divorced.

She was pregnant with his child though.

Anderson had finally left his wife.

He was currently living with Donavan.

Heck, even Molly Hooper was seeing someone.

It wasn't serious.

It wouldn't last.

That wasn't too different.

Thank God.

The biggest difference though… that was John.

Sherlock had steered clear of him for four years.

Molly had kept him up-to-date on how John was doing.

He didn't want to know the finer details.

He didn't quite trust himself not to just pick up his phone and text him.

So, he settled for either 'good' or 'bad'.

Molly was the only one who knew he wasn't as dead as the world believed.

He'd grown close to her during the past four years.

He trusted her even more than he did the night life changed.

He thought she would have at least had the decency to tell him… this.

John had met someone.

John had met a woman to be precise.

It had happened a year after his 'death'.

Her name was Mary Morstan.

One year after they had begun dating, John proposed.

Mary accepted.

Another year later, they wedded.

That was precisely three months, four days, and six hours and twenty-two minutes ago.

Sherlock was now sitting in the living room of the Watsons' house.

Mary was in the kitchen; she was preparing a pot of coffee.

John Watson was sitting in the armchair opposite Sherlock, he was on the sofa.

He hadn't uttered a single word yet.

He'd opened the door.

For a moment he had just stared before stepping aside and letting him in the house.

Mary had been welcoming.

Sherlock didn't quite like her.

It wasn't right for someone to be so calm about him being here.

He was a dead man after all.

Mary had ushered both men in to the living room.

She had helped John in to his armchair and then turned to Sherlock.

"I'll put on a pot of coffee; black, two sugars, correct?"

Sherlock had given a slight tilt of his head and Mary left.

That had been ten minutes and twelve seconds ago.

Sherlock was beginning to get irritated with John's silence.

He'd expected anger.

This was far from anger.

He had prepared himself for anger.

This wasn't anger.

He couldn't handle this.

What if John needed… comforting?

Sherlock almost let a shudder ripple through his body.

He could not comfort.

He would not comfort.

Wasn't that a job for his… wife?

Sherlock's eyes narrowed.

John had moved forward a little.

"I knew you weren't dead."

"How?"

"You love yourself too much to commit suicide."

Sherlock's lips twitched slightly.

"Also, Molly kept hinting. They were subtle hints and I didn't pick up on them straight away. But after a lot of deducing – you would have been proud – I began to see what she was trying to say. I went back to that day and it all made sense, after a year. Molly was the one Moriarty wouldn't have factored in to the game… she was your most valuable piece who could help you win it all."

Sherlock's lips formed a more noticeable smile.

"I'm impressed."

"It took me a year after your death for me to consider the possibility. Then I began to notice Molly and a year later I thought I had figured it out. I was just waiting for you to return."

Sherlock smirked.

He said nothing.

John continued.

"I told Molly my theory one day. She told me that was ridiculous. Never again did she hint to the possibility of you still being alive."

Sherlock was slightly surprised.

He wouldn't admit that though.

He never knew Molly had it in her to be subtle about such a subject.

"I looked at the situation as if I were you."

"I taught you well," Sherlock murmured.

John smiled.

"I should probably punch you in the face."

Sherlock nodded his head in agreement and waited for his friend to continue.

"But I'm not going to. I'm happy you're alive."

"Will you be returning to Baker Street now, John?"

John's eyebrows rose.

Sherlock asked that as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"Sherlock, I am married."

"I figured that much."

Mary returned with the mugs of coffee.

"So, I'll be living with my wife."

Sherlock frowned.

"I see."

Mary held out Sherlock's mug.

Sherlock didn't take it.

Sherlock didn't even look at it.

She said nothing and placed it on the coffee table.

Mary Watson had heard enough stories about this man to not be offended by his behaviour.

Sherlock sat back on the sofa.

"How do you expect me to pay rent?"

"Find a new roommate?"

Sherlock's eyes narrowed on him.

"I liked my old roommate."

"And I liked mine but he decided to go and fake his death."

John was beginning to get angry with Sherlock.

Oh, how he had missed him.

The thought made him roll his eyes.

"Sherlock, you haven't been around for four years. A lot has changed since then. I'm still your friend and I will still assist on cases when you need me to. However, I am not going to be living with you. I will not be feeding you. I will not be doing your bidding. I have a wife now, I have a family now."

"You have a wife, John. You don't have a family."

Mary couldn't contain the smile from growing on her face.

Sherlock noticed it.

His eyes fell to her stomach.

How had he not noticed?

The signs were all there.

The small bulge of her stomach was already perfectly round.

"That's not quite true."

"Three months and two days?"

Mary nodded her head at Sherlock's question.

"John certainly wasn't over exaggerating your observational skills."

Sherlock ignored her remark.

His eyes turned on to John.

There was a slight coldness to them.

Oh things had definitely changed.

"Congratulations, Dr Watson, Mrs Watson; what a delightful piece of news!"

John glared at his friend.

"Thank-you." John hissed at his friend and stood up.

Sherlock stood up also.

Mary watched the pair and sighed.

They were like school children.

"Boys…" She warned.

Her tone of voice made Sherlock turn to glare at her.

She remained unmoved by the action.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Watson."

"As it was you, too, Sherlock."

Sherlock made his way to the door, his coat flowing behind him in a way that John had missed.

"We want you as the godfather, Sherlock."

If it were anyone else but John, they wouldn't have noticed the slight pause in Sherlock's step.

But John saw it.

He knew the statement had shocked his friend.

He knew the whole encounter had shocked his friend.

He knew Sherlock.

He knew it would take some time for him to get used to the changes in his life.

The only thing John hoped for was that in the end Sherlock accepted this new life.

If he didn't and he made John choose between his family and himself, well, John already knew his decision.

He'd pick his family.

He'd pick his family any day.

Things had changed.

John was happy now.

He hoped Sherlock would be happy soon.

He hoped he wouldn't lose him again.

He feared this time it would be harder.

He watched the door slam shut.

He sighed and turned away from it.

He made his way back in to the living room.

His eyes fell to the mug of untouched coffee on the table.

He looked to his wife.

"You know he only didn't drink that to spite you. He really wanted a coffee. I bet he's on his way to Starbuck's right now, getting himself a crappy cup of coffee."

Mary laughed and moved to her husband, wrapping her arms around his chest.

"Oh, I know. I hope it makes him throw up."

She laughed.

He chuckled.

John stood there and stared down at his wife.

He didn't like to wonder where he would be right now if it weren't for her.

She had saved him.

No one knew that.

She had saved him from taking his own life.

He only hoped Sherlock would realise that soon.

He wanted Sherlock to know just how special Mary was.

He wanted Sherlock to see how Mary Morstan, now Watson, was someone worth counting.

Authors Note: There is the first chapter to my new story. While writing this I started to form some idea of where I want this to go and so I'll be writing a plan of sorts. I just don't really have an ending in mind yet. The real story won't kick in until around chapter three/four. I'm not sure yet. Most likely chapter four! This story is going to be an emotional ride and Sherlock is going to learn so much. I've really wanted to write this and I'm so glad to have the chance to. The next chapters are basically going to be giving the back story that I think you all need to know. Let me know what you think so far? That would be highly appreciated.

Thank-you for reading.

Petal.