Epilogue

27th October

It was raining.

Mycroft Holmes stood at the door, waiting for the bell to be answered as he held his umbrella to shelter him from the storm.

Fitting, he supposed, after the night he'd had.

The man who opened the door was tall, a little plump around the face and instantly suspicious.

"I know you from somewhere?" Christopher said with a frown.

"Is your fiancée in?" Mycroft asked.

"Yeah, she's in the kitchen…" Chris looked out at the weather. "Come in," he offered, standing to one side and gesturing to the stairs.

Their newly bought flat was sufficient, Mycroft thought, looking around once he climbed the flight. A spare room that he imagined the pair would one day use as a nursery, a soft-looking living room, cosy and inviting with a table and chairs, a tiny balcony beyond. To the side, the kitchen was walled off but had a hatch.

Molly Hooper was humming to her scrambled eggs.

Soothing, Mycroft thought with a nod.

"Mycroft," Molly said with a startled sound as she took the pan off the hob. "I…was I meant to expect you?" she asked, vanishing from the hatch to appear at the kitchen door seconds later.

"Holmes' brother?" Chris asked, sounding a little less friendly, the expression on his face dropping further when Molly nodded.

"I have a request to make of you both," Mycroft said. He nodded at the sofa.

"After the last time-"

"Chris," Molly hushed, tugging at his hand. "Let him speak," she added, sitting down and staring up at her husband-to-be imploringly.

Relenting, the man sat, clearly unhappy.

"I heard about Ava," Molly said with a worried look. "If you need a character reference or anything then-"

"I fear I need far more than that," Mycroft said, looking out the window to watch the torrential rain. "My brother attempted to burn himself alive in his flat last night."

Molly made a horrified noise, quickly soothed by Christopher. "Is he-"

"Alive?" Mycroft nodded. "Thanks to Inspector Lestrade and myself. We managed to call for help and pull him out but…"

Sherlock lying on the road, Lestrade's horrified face.

Burning.

"Does John know?"

"About Ava? Yes. About this?" Mycroft stared at the Thames, trying not to remember the last conversation he and John had conducted.

"What do you want me to do?" Mycroft asked.

John shook his head. "I have no-"

"About Ava?" Mycroft interjected. "I have no delusions, John, if Sherlock is using again then the only thing that will stop him is him. But Sherlock has made it clear he wishes to return to 221b." Mycroft took a deep breath. "Do I let him take her with him?"

John stared at him in sheer horror, looking far older than his years. "How can you be asking me this?" he breathed, shaking his head, eyes bright.

"Only you can make this decision. She is your daughter-"

"I can't…" John shook his head, looking ill. "I can't, you're asking me to choose between them – to put one before the other-"

Mycroft swallowed heavily. "My…my instinct is that he won't. That, in this, his reluctance to leave Ava with Mrs Hudson will work to our advantage and he won't risk doing something that will place her in danger."

John nodded slowly.

"But he is not stable, John. And she is traumatised as it is."

John closed his eyes.

"On the other hand, if I take her away from him, if I keep her with me, I do not know what he will do. Without her…I fear for his mental state."

It took an age before John opened his eyes, looking utterly wrecked. "He won't do anything. And if he thinks he has done anything he'll be the first person to bring her here to me," he said, sounding shaken to the core.

Sounding as if he had just used everything up to come to the decision.

"No," Mycroft said, staring out. "I did not think it wise to tell John about this. Not yet."

He'd underestimated just how much the decision had wrecked the good doctor, and Sherlock had paid the price.

He should never have placed that decision on John's shoulders.

"My brother asked for your help years ago, Miss Hooper, and I find myself in the same position now." Mycroft turned to the pair. "You are a registered foster carer, are you not?" he asked of Chris.

The man nodded. "Yeah, my nephew…" He trailed off as it dawned on him why Mycroft was asking. Next to him, Molly blinked.

"I cannot promise you that Sherlock will come back for her," Mycroft said slowly. "But right now, I need to look after my brother and I cannot look after both." He hesitated and steeled himself. "I am throwing myself upon your mercy, Molly Hooper. Will you look after Sherlock and John's daughter?"

Molly looked at Chris.

For the longest time, neither said a word.

Then Chris sighed and stood.

"Of course."

Author's Note

Can I say a huge thank you to swissmiss for improving this fic massively and giving me the confidence to try new things/kick my bum when I took huge big gaps between updates. She's been really fab and it has been hugely appreciated.

The sequel to this will be called 'Crush it 'till the petals fall'. It will link up to Paved With Love's Epilogue and should be posted end of May, early June. In the meantime, I will be going through the whole verse with my betas to edit for spag and story, especially RoS to tidy it up. When each chapter is done, I'll add a proper chapter title to it rather than the dates so it should be easy to track where we are up to.

Thank you to everyone who has read this and encouraged this verse. It's the first one I wrote for this fandom and without all the lovely feedback I wouldn't be writing(spamming) you all with the other fics and improving the way I am.