"So, all of you knew?" he asked, once he'd taken his cup and settled in his tray.
"More or less," Jack said.
"More than less," Seb scowled. "I know every inch of that woman."
"I told you she was alive," Sherlock smirked, plucking a cup from the tray.
"It's magic, John," Freya said, curled up in the window seat. She was watching for Mary to come back, worrying over her. "Someone should've gone with her. Looks like rain."
"We're just, what, going to pick up like normal and pretend she's not a twenty year-old version of herself? She was dead," John said, trying to keep calm while sipping his drink, but sarcasm seeped into his voice.
"Don't see why not," Seb said, pouring himself a cuppa. Black. "She's not anymore. We grieved, she died, and now she's better. Younger. Healthy."
"Inhuman," Sherlock corrected.
"Alive," Seb growled.
"He has a valid point. That thing, it's a thing. It's not a person," John replied, pursing her lips. "It's not really her."
"She feels, she hurts, she bleeds," Seb said. "Her memories, her emotions, her goddamn soul is inside that 'thing', except now, she's not going to die unless she chooses."
"And for fuck's sake, she can tap into a phone, I'd imagine she can hear you if she wanted," Jack said. "You did say your brother claimed she was fully functional. Just because there may be a chip where a brain should be, doesn't mean she's not alive? Human beings run on electrical pulses, anything alive does, Watson. A doctor ought to know that."
John nodded thoughtfully, wrinkled brow furrowed, deepening the lines. "I s'pose if you look at it like that, it's no different than her chair. Except instead of wheels she has legs."
"A medical device," Sherlock hummed, setting aside his drained cup to steeple his fingers. "She did say biological matter had been re-animated, at least before my dead-to-me brother interrupted her explanation of the process."
"I don't know why you have to ruin it with details," Freya sighed. "She came back to us because she loves us. Whoever gave her a second chance, whether it was god or fairies or a mad scientist, I don't care. She's back home. You should be happy, you idiots. You've all got a twenty year old girl with the hots for your old wrinkly bollocks."
"That is a bleedin' miracle," John agreed with a teasing smile. He leaned his head back, still twirling thoughts around. "Of course, there is the other thing, too. The other person that came back. He won't get her this time, agreed?"
"I'll shoot him in the head myself this time," Sebastian grumbled. "Or one of us will. Go for the head. Can't bring 'em back without it."
"She told you that?" John asked, calmer eyes meeting Seb's. "Shot to the brain it is then."
Seb nodded. "S'how it works. If she'd had a stroke, she'd probably not be back at all," he said, feeling the hairs on his arms rise. "Heart valve failure. Weak heart, probably from too much love." He smiled a bittersweet smile back at John.
"The children are also happy about it, which is good. I worry about Spencer," John replied with a smile. "So we're just back to being a family. Just like that. I wonder what the neighbors will think."
"What the hell are they payin' her!?" Jack cackled. "You took good care of him, doc. Just let the boy heal up with his family. They'll call if they need us again. No offense, but he wasn't made up to be a hero."
"Oi, that's my son you're talking about," John snorted, picking his book up from the side table. "He's just not ready yet. He'll be just fine."
"Not saying he hasn't got a good heart," Jack said. "Just leave the legwork to someone else."
***
It was drizzling by the time Mary got back to her little cottage, and she hurried inside without thinking. The place was cold from not being lived in, and even she felt it, though her power source kept her adequately warm. She'd almost walked outside without shoes again, and she was going to have to be more careful about those things.
Stepping into the dim house, she went for her bedroom, taking out spare clothes from her closet, placing the articles on her bed for packing. A smile tugged at her lips when she thought about the fact that she wasn't going to be alone anymore. She reached for the handgun under her pillow...
and found it missing.
"Looking for something, princess?"
Mary whirled, wet hair sticking to her surprised face. Her eyes were wide. She blinked. "Who are you?"
"Oh now, don't do that," Jim said, face turning angry. "Mike liked to talk, exchange information. He was very forthcoming."
The dumb expression fell away from Mary's features, and she raised her hands. "Why are you here?"
"Because I was told you were dead," Jim said. "Obviously the facts have been skewed. I was expecting little Sherly to come after his boy."
"I would come back from hell to rescue one of my children," Mary ground out, blinking. She could send a text, but she didn't want the others coming here. Too dangerous. "I am not the girl you think I am. She did die. That much is true." Remembering Sherlock's words that she'd heard through their phones, she added, "I'm not even human anymore."
"You didn't come for me," Jim snarled.
"I did. But whatever they handed me threatened my empire. I couldn't have you ruining the work, or killing Seb. You threatened Sebastian, Jim," Mary said lowly, eyes flashing. Her hands still in the air, she angled her chin up. "You have me now. Will you kill me?"
"I would have never killed Sebastian! Or you! Are you mad?!" Jim said. "I took that piece from your pillow to keep you from shooting me!"
"The person that I shot, the person that Seb buried, threatened both of us, James. Perhaps it wasn't you, but that's why I killed them," Mary said, continuing her steady stare.
"I was still out there, in there, for years," Jim hissed. "I want revenge. I'm going to tear the Holmes family limb from limb and you're living with them! You've corrupted Sebastian."
[I am at an impasse. - MM]
"I won't let that happen, James. I love them, and I love Sebastian, and if I had to choose between you I would choose my husband every time," Mary replied, letting a tear slide from her eye.
Jim recoiled. "YOU!" he shouted, disbelieving. "Marriage?" he hissed.
"Yes. Seb and I are married, and we're planning to be together for a long while yet," Mary said coolly. "Would you have married me, I wonder?"
"You left with me to avoid marriage," Jim said. "You were meant to be on my side. You did my work, my work!"
"Good enough to fuck but never good enough to keep," Mary sighed, lowering her hands. She shook her head. "I'm not surprised. You never really keep your promises, to anyone. I did my work, James. I might have used your name, but I did my own work. I was on my side, and I'm the only one that ever has been."
[If I'm not human, how come I'm finding it so hard to ask for help? Why must I feel so many things? These are questions I don't expect answers to, but I find myself asking. It's true, of course. I'm not human. But I feel like one, and it hurts so much. -MM]
"Marriage, children, normal," Jim spat. "You never did answer me. Are you happy?"
"I think I was, for a time. And I could be again," Mary said, taking a step towards him.
[I wasn't grateful, but I like to think I was happy. Do you think so? - MM]
Jim looked... frightened.
"What am I supposed to do?" he asked, continuing to back away. "What am I -"
"I'd like to think we're happy," Seb's calm voice came from the door, a .45 aimed at Jim's head. Seb's grey hair was plastered to his skull, leather jacket shiny with rain. "I'd be a lot happier with him dead."
"How do we know this is the right one?" Mary asked, her eyes wide. "We shot him once before."
"Jim?" Seb said.
Jim's head whipped around. His eyes were wide as his hands rose, dropping Mary's gun. "Sebby," he said. "Look at how she's spoiled you. Mary, you made him think he's people, but look.." he added smugly. "He still can't do it."
"Don't you talk about him like that," Mary said, taking a step forward. "James-"
"What?" Jim said. "It's true. He can't. He'd have done it already." Jim laughed. "He's still the same submissive little bitch!"
Seb's gun wavered. It was Jim. He took a step back. It really was Jim. He felt his scarred body flare with anger and fear. Mary shook her head.
"You're wrong about him. You don't control him, I do," Mary said, but she wasn't sure of herself. She wasn't- she wasn't sure. "He's mine now. He promised."
Seb looked between them. He nodded.
"But I can't-" Seb croaked, begging with his eyes. Command me. "Mary, please."
Jim laughed, tension drawing out of his shoulders. "See! Pussy cat. And you call him tiger."
Mary stepped up behind Jim, eyes cold. "You're trying very hard to discredit him. Are you proposing that you're a better partner? Why were you waiting for me? I will not let you hurt the Holmes's. I won't let you hurt Seb. So the only thing left standing between you and your goals is me. Hurt me, Jim. I dare you."
Jim turned back around, back-handing Mary easily.
Away from those eyes, hearing the slap, Seb's finger twitched. Enough pressure to kick back the pistol, turning Jim's head from a living thing to an exploding mess of brain matter and blood. Seb fell against the doorjamb, hands trembling as he dropped the gun.
"Good shot," John said from the other room, holstering his gun in his waistband. He'd been waiting for Mary to get Jim one step further, but he hadn't needed to. Mary was cupping her cheek, hand covering the only part of her not coated in blood.
"Alright, Tiger?" she asked in a squeaky voice, beginning to shake.
Seb shook his head. "Get away from him. Now," he demanded. "Get out! Get out!"
"Come on, Mary," John said, taking her elbow, helping her step over the body. She shook her head.
"I can handle it. I'm- I'm a killer. I know," Mary whispered, looking down at the body on the floor. She let John pull her. Seb shoved her from behind, closing the door behind them.
"I'll call a clean up crew," he whispered. "We've got the only thing that can't be replaced out of there."
"I'll text Vance," Mary said, doing so with just a thought. "I've never liked men that go for the face. Just like Frank."
Seb was silent as they stood in her sitting room. He grasped her wrist. "John, we'll be a moment," he said.
"I'll call the others. They'll be worried," John said, stepping outside to give them privacy. Mary was still shaking, looking a bit dazed.
Seb pulled out a handkerchief to wipe her face. "I hesitated," he said, looking ashamed.
"It's alright," Mary said, blinking up at him with glassy eyes. "I hesitated, too. I should've killed him before you got here."
"Humanity is overrated," Seb replied. "You've got brain in your hair."
"I would like to take a shower," Mary said, shivering. "We should go. Should I get my things?"
Seb shook his head. "I'll have them brought over," he said. "I don't- I don't want you near him. Not even dead. Come on before John freezes out there."
"I love you, Tiger," Mary whispered, looking pale. She let him lead her out, with John at her other side. "Thank you, gentlemen. I wasn't sure when I sent those messages, you understand."
"It lit up the telly," Seb said. "Sherlock called it a 'unique emotional reaction'. I smacked him before I grabbed my coat."
Mary nodded. "He said I wasn't human. I didn't like it."
"I'll dump one of his experiments in the bin later," Seb promised.
The walk was dismal, and without looking at the others, Mary stepped into the bathroom. Shower first, washing the bits of Jim from her hair. Then drain, and fill the bath, sliding down into the hot water. Even though her muscle structure was pseudo organic, the heat was nice. It didn't make her feel better. Too many memories were replaying, on strange circuits, unfamiliar with her own new brain processes. Jim's hand across her face had hurt. His violence, so out of character, had also hurt. She also... missed him, a little. She had no idea why. She slid under the water, holding her breath, letting her hair fan out around her face.
Jack had snuck in after Seb told him what happened. Seb wanted the time alone to clean his gun (and likely process the twice-killing of his old boss), but Jack knew Mary. He swirled his finger through the water above her face. She graced him with a sad smile, pushing up out of the water.
"Jack," Mary breathed.
"Hey," Jack said softly. "Looks like the plan we hatched went off sooner than expected."
"He was waiting for me. Took my gun," Mary whispered, her head resting on the porcelain tub. "Tiger killed him."
"I know," Jack said, sitting cross legged on the tile floor. "You're still sad though. Jim dead again. You cared about him."
Mary shrugged. "I spent the last thirty years thinking he was dead, so what does it matter now? And he tortured Sebby. He was the worst- you shouldn't sit like that. It'll hurt your hips, and you won't be able to get back up-"
"Hush, young whipper-snapper," Jack teased. "I can still bend like this! I'm younger than half those old geezers. Besides, I'm not grey or white headed yet." Only because as a natural ginger, Jack had merely lightened with time. He certainly still had laugh lines, crows feet, and roughness to his face. "Sherlock didn't mean his little comment. Well, he did, but not like you think."
"He's always right. My brain is mapped into a computer system. How do I know I'm even feeling anything? And then Jim, he-" Mary closed her eyes, knowing Jack would understand the significance, at least, if he'd been watching her since high school. A high school where the only thing blacker than her bruises was the plaid in her uniform. "He backhanded me. It shouldn't have hurt but something, something hurts inside. How could he do that? I used to protect him."
"Abused children are significantly more likely to become abusers," Jack said, stroking her cheek. "As you said, it's been years. He wasn't the boy he used to be, or even the man he was. Sherlock was also right, what are our brains but complex biological computers? So someone found a way to hack them, download them, and place them somewhere else." Jack smiled wryly. "What I would've done to have been on that research team."
"I want to keep Seb, and he's come around to the idea. But everyone else says no, like I'm some kind of nightmare. And I'm used to it because, because I was that for a long time. I was Moriarty, I ruled the world, but this? I don't know how to be this," Mary whispered, leaning into his touch.
Jack's finger trailed down her collarbone.
"Oh, Mary, I think you do," he murmured, eyes lidded. "You're in the blush of youth, with the knowledge of a woman three times your age." He licked his lips slowly. "I'll be whatever you want me to be, love, but you? I never got you like this.. I'm rather eager to see more." His hand dipped beneath the water.
"Jack," Mary said, arching. "You are so very good at distracting me when I need it." She leaned over the tub to kiss him, licking the seam of his mouth. Jack opened his mouth to kiss her, fingers finding old patterns on new skin.
"Pleasure to serve," he murmured, wriggling two fingers to hook and crook inside. "Could I tempt you into my bed for once?" He kissed her again, slow and sweet and just a little rough.
"Yes," Mary said, nodding eagerly. "Take my mind off of it."
"Out of the tub while I get my old arse up," Jack laughed. He groaned in a combination of an aching back and trapped erection. No help needed there, no little blue pills or injections - all the rage these days. He grabbed a towel, holding it out for Mary. She wrapped his arms around her instead, her wet body leaving a definite mark on his dry clothes.
"Jack." Mary kissed his jaw. "Not too old. You still look as good as you did the first time we shagged."
"We weren't nearly so young as you are now," Jack said, used the towel to stroke down her wet back, coming to settle over her pert bum. He brushed his nose with hers. "I lost track of you when you ran, picked back up when you went on Holmes radar."
"I bet you made up for lost time. You like research," Mary chuckled, hands stroking over his chest. She leaned her head forward to suck at his throat. "You knew me when I looked this way. From a distance, but you knew."
"And younger," Jack agreed with a hum. He was backing up, heading out for his own room. He winked at Seb as they took the three turns of doorways it took to go from one side of a wall to the other - Jack's room. He'd nearly complained about his lack of personal lav until he realized how much time he spent in the 'big bed' anyway. "Mmm, they're the heroes, and I get the girl," Jack grinned, pulling Mary against him as he kicked his bedroom door closed.
"You're a hero," Mary laughed, shivering as his hands touched her. "I just killed my brother. You're comforting me. That's heroic. I could worship that-" Mary tugged at his shirt, her hands tracing his stomach. "You're so beautiful."
Jack laughed, spinning her around, her skin against his. "Flatterer," he said, catching her lips as he fell onto the bed, bringing her down with him. "Holmes claims you're fully functional. He keeps using those words - let's see how right he is." Jack's eyes flashed with mischief.
"Going to give me a baby robot, Jack?" Mary teased, spread out next to him. "Prove your virility, I mean, you are terribly elderly-"
Jack growled. "I got your virility, right here," he laughed, kissing her face as he unbuttoned his damp jeans, kicking them away. "We'll name it Apple, boy or girl." He growled again, biting at her neck. Her skin certainly felt real, warm and indenting beneath his teeth, a rapid pulse fluttering as he flicked over her folds. A sweet blush spread on her cheeks.
"We'll have a whole fruit salad. I hardly sleep anymore, I'll have time to look after them," Mary laughed, but her giggles were turning breathless with his touches. "I do love you. I believe that."
"I love you," Jack said, staring into her eyes. His chocolaty brown irises held none of Jim's oily black madness, only love and affection and true joy as he leaned in to kiss her, taking her back from the world that didn't deserve her.
"Looking for something, princess?"
Mary whirled, wet hair sticking to her surprised face. Her eyes were wide. She blinked. "Who are you?"
"Oh now, don't do that," Jim said, face turning angry. "Mike liked to talk, exchange information. He was very forthcoming."
The dumb expression fell away from Mary's features, and she raised her hands. "Why are you here?"
"Because I was told you were dead," Jim said. "Obviously the facts have been skewed. I was expecting little Sherly to come after his boy."
"I would come back from hell to rescue one of my children," Mary ground out, blinking. She could send a text, but she didn't want the others coming here. Too dangerous. "I am not the girl you think I am. She did die. That much is true." Remembering Sherlock's words that she'd heard through their phones, she added, "I'm not even human anymore."
"You didn't come for me," Jim snarled.
"I did. But whatever they handed me threatened my empire. I couldn't have you ruining the work, or killing Seb. You threatened Sebastian, Jim," Mary said lowly, eyes flashing. Her hands still in the air, she angled her chin up. "You have me now. Will you kill me?"
"I would have never killed Sebastian! Or you! Are you mad?!" Jim said. "I took that piece from your pillow to keep you from shooting me!"
"The person that I shot, the person that Seb buried, threatened both of us, James. Perhaps it wasn't you, but that's why I killed them," Mary said, continuing her steady stare.
"I was still out there, in there, for years," Jim hissed. "I want revenge. I'm going to tear the Holmes family limb from limb and you're living with them! You've corrupted Sebastian."
[I am at an impasse. - MM]
"I won't let that happen, James. I love them, and I love Sebastian, and if I had to choose between you I would choose my husband every time," Mary replied, letting a tear slide from her eye.
Jim recoiled. "YOU!" he shouted, disbelieving. "Marriage?" he hissed.
"Yes. Seb and I are married, and we're planning to be together for a long while yet," Mary said coolly. "Would you have married me, I wonder?"
"You left with me to avoid marriage," Jim said. "You were meant to be on my side. You did my work, my work!"
"Good enough to fuck but never good enough to keep," Mary sighed, lowering her hands. She shook her head. "I'm not surprised. You never really keep your promises, to anyone. I did my work, James. I might have used your name, but I did my own work. I was on my side, and I'm the only one that ever has been."
[If I'm not human, how come I'm finding it so hard to ask for help? Why must I feel so many things? These are questions I don't expect answers to, but I find myself asking. It's true, of course. I'm not human. But I feel like one, and it hurts so much. -MM]
"Marriage, children, normal," Jim spat. "You never did answer me. Are you happy?"
"I think I was, for a time. And I could be again," Mary said, taking a step towards him.
[I wasn't grateful, but I like to think I was happy. Do you think so? - MM]
Jim looked... frightened.
"What am I supposed to do?" he asked, continuing to back away. "What am I -"
"I'd like to think we're happy," Seb's calm voice came from the door, a .45 aimed at Jim's head. Seb's grey hair was plastered to his skull, leather jacket shiny with rain. "I'd be a lot happier with him dead."
"How do we know this is the right one?" Mary asked, her eyes wide. "We shot him once before."
"Jim?" Seb said.
Jim's head whipped around. His eyes were wide as his hands rose, dropping Mary's gun. "Sebby," he said. "Look at how she's spoiled you. Mary, you made him think he's people, but look.." he added smugly. "He still can't do it."
"Don't you talk about him like that," Mary said, taking a step forward. "James-"
"What?" Jim said. "It's true. He can't. He'd have done it already." Jim laughed. "He's still the same submissive little bitch!"
Seb's gun wavered. It was Jim. He took a step back. It really was Jim. He felt his scarred body flare with anger and fear. Mary shook her head.
"You're wrong about him. You don't control him, I do," Mary said, but she wasn't sure of herself. She wasn't- she wasn't sure. "He's mine now. He promised."
Seb looked between them. He nodded.
"But I can't-" Seb croaked, begging with his eyes. Command me. "Mary, please."
Jim laughed, tension drawing out of his shoulders. "See! Pussy cat. And you call him tiger."
Mary stepped up behind Jim, eyes cold. "You're trying very hard to discredit him. Are you proposing that you're a better partner? Why were you waiting for me? I will not let you hurt the Holmes's. I won't let you hurt Seb. So the only thing left standing between you and your goals is me. Hurt me, Jim. I dare you."
Jim turned back around, back-handing Mary easily.
Away from those eyes, hearing the slap, Seb's finger twitched. Enough pressure to kick back the pistol, turning Jim's head from a living thing to an exploding mess of brain matter and blood. Seb fell against the doorjamb, hands trembling as he dropped the gun.
"Good shot," John said from the other room, holstering his gun in his waistband. He'd been waiting for Mary to get Jim one step further, but he hadn't needed to. Mary was cupping her cheek, hand covering the only part of her not coated in blood.
"Alright, Tiger?" she asked in a squeaky voice, beginning to shake.
Seb shook his head. "Get away from him. Now," he demanded. "Get out! Get out!"
"Come on, Mary," John said, taking her elbow, helping her step over the body. She shook her head.
"I can handle it. I'm- I'm a killer. I know," Mary whispered, looking down at the body on the floor. She let John pull her. Seb shoved her from behind, closing the door behind them.
"I'll call a clean up crew," he whispered. "We've got the only thing that can't be replaced out of there."
"I'll text Vance," Mary said, doing so with just a thought. "I've never liked men that go for the face. Just like Frank."
Seb was silent as they stood in her sitting room. He grasped her wrist. "John, we'll be a moment," he said.
"I'll call the others. They'll be worried," John said, stepping outside to give them privacy. Mary was still shaking, looking a bit dazed.
Seb pulled out a handkerchief to wipe her face. "I hesitated," he said, looking ashamed.
"It's alright," Mary said, blinking up at him with glassy eyes. "I hesitated, too. I should've killed him before you got here."
"Humanity is overrated," Seb replied. "You've got brain in your hair."
"I would like to take a shower," Mary said, shivering. "We should go. Should I get my things?"
Seb shook his head. "I'll have them brought over," he said. "I don't- I don't want you near him. Not even dead. Come on before John freezes out there."
"I love you, Tiger," Mary whispered, looking pale. She let him lead her out, with John at her other side. "Thank you, gentlemen. I wasn't sure when I sent those messages, you understand."
"It lit up the telly," Seb said. "Sherlock called it a 'unique emotional reaction'. I smacked him before I grabbed my coat."
Mary nodded. "He said I wasn't human. I didn't like it."
"I'll dump one of his experiments in the bin later," Seb promised.
The walk was dismal, and without looking at the others, Mary stepped into the bathroom. Shower first, washing the bits of Jim from her hair. Then drain, and fill the bath, sliding down into the hot water. Even though her muscle structure was pseudo organic, the heat was nice. It didn't make her feel better. Too many memories were replaying, on strange circuits, unfamiliar with her own new brain processes. Jim's hand across her face had hurt. His violence, so out of character, had also hurt. She also... missed him, a little. She had no idea why. She slid under the water, holding her breath, letting her hair fan out around her face.
Jack had snuck in after Seb told him what happened. Seb wanted the time alone to clean his gun (and likely process the twice-killing of his old boss), but Jack knew Mary. He swirled his finger through the water above her face. She graced him with a sad smile, pushing up out of the water.
"Jack," Mary breathed.
"Hey," Jack said softly. "Looks like the plan we hatched went off sooner than expected."
"He was waiting for me. Took my gun," Mary whispered, her head resting on the porcelain tub. "Tiger killed him."
"I know," Jack said, sitting cross legged on the tile floor. "You're still sad though. Jim dead again. You cared about him."
Mary shrugged. "I spent the last thirty years thinking he was dead, so what does it matter now? And he tortured Sebby. He was the worst- you shouldn't sit like that. It'll hurt your hips, and you won't be able to get back up-"
"Hush, young whipper-snapper," Jack teased. "I can still bend like this! I'm younger than half those old geezers. Besides, I'm not grey or white headed yet." Only because as a natural ginger, Jack had merely lightened with time. He certainly still had laugh lines, crows feet, and roughness to his face. "Sherlock didn't mean his little comment. Well, he did, but not like you think."
"He's always right. My brain is mapped into a computer system. How do I know I'm even feeling anything? And then Jim, he-" Mary closed her eyes, knowing Jack would understand the significance, at least, if he'd been watching her since high school. A high school where the only thing blacker than her bruises was the plaid in her uniform. "He backhanded me. It shouldn't have hurt but something, something hurts inside. How could he do that? I used to protect him."
"Abused children are significantly more likely to become abusers," Jack said, stroking her cheek. "As you said, it's been years. He wasn't the boy he used to be, or even the man he was. Sherlock was also right, what are our brains but complex biological computers? So someone found a way to hack them, download them, and place them somewhere else." Jack smiled wryly. "What I would've done to have been on that research team."
"I want to keep Seb, and he's come around to the idea. But everyone else says no, like I'm some kind of nightmare. And I'm used to it because, because I was that for a long time. I was Moriarty, I ruled the world, but this? I don't know how to be this," Mary whispered, leaning into his touch.
Jack's finger trailed down her collarbone.
"Oh, Mary, I think you do," he murmured, eyes lidded. "You're in the blush of youth, with the knowledge of a woman three times your age." He licked his lips slowly. "I'll be whatever you want me to be, love, but you? I never got you like this.. I'm rather eager to see more." His hand dipped beneath the water.
"Jack," Mary said, arching. "You are so very good at distracting me when I need it." She leaned over the tub to kiss him, licking the seam of his mouth. Jack opened his mouth to kiss her, fingers finding old patterns on new skin.
"Pleasure to serve," he murmured, wriggling two fingers to hook and crook inside. "Could I tempt you into my bed for once?" He kissed her again, slow and sweet and just a little rough.
"Yes," Mary said, nodding eagerly. "Take my mind off of it."
"Out of the tub while I get my old arse up," Jack laughed. He groaned in a combination of an aching back and trapped erection. No help needed there, no little blue pills or injections - all the rage these days. He grabbed a towel, holding it out for Mary. She wrapped his arms around her instead, her wet body leaving a definite mark on his dry clothes.
"Jack." Mary kissed his jaw. "Not too old. You still look as good as you did the first time we shagged."
"We weren't nearly so young as you are now," Jack said, used the towel to stroke down her wet back, coming to settle over her pert bum. He brushed his nose with hers. "I lost track of you when you ran, picked back up when you went on Holmes radar."
"I bet you made up for lost time. You like research," Mary chuckled, hands stroking over his chest. She leaned her head forward to suck at his throat. "You knew me when I looked this way. From a distance, but you knew."
"And younger," Jack agreed with a hum. He was backing up, heading out for his own room. He winked at Seb as they took the three turns of doorways it took to go from one side of a wall to the other - Jack's room. He'd nearly complained about his lack of personal lav until he realized how much time he spent in the 'big bed' anyway. "Mmm, they're the heroes, and I get the girl," Jack grinned, pulling Mary against him as he kicked his bedroom door closed.
"You're a hero," Mary laughed, shivering as his hands touched her. "I just killed my brother. You're comforting me. That's heroic. I could worship that-" Mary tugged at his shirt, her hands tracing his stomach. "You're so beautiful."
Jack laughed, spinning her around, her skin against his. "Flatterer," he said, catching her lips as he fell onto the bed, bringing her down with him. "Holmes claims you're fully functional. He keeps using those words - let's see how right he is." Jack's eyes flashed with mischief.
"Going to give me a baby robot, Jack?" Mary teased, spread out next to him. "Prove your virility, I mean, you are terribly elderly-"
Jack growled. "I got your virility, right here," he laughed, kissing her face as he unbuttoned his damp jeans, kicking them away. "We'll name it Apple, boy or girl." He growled again, biting at her neck. Her skin certainly felt real, warm and indenting beneath his teeth, a rapid pulse fluttering as he flicked over her folds. A sweet blush spread on her cheeks.
"We'll have a whole fruit salad. I hardly sleep anymore, I'll have time to look after them," Mary laughed, but her giggles were turning breathless with his touches. "I do love you. I believe that."
"I love you," Jack said, staring into her eyes. His chocolaty brown irises held none of Jim's oily black madness, only love and affection and true joy as he leaned in to kiss her, taking her back from the world that didn't deserve her.
***
Spencer loved his sister. LOVED his sister. But after over a week of being on bed rest with her, he couldn't stand another minute in her flat. Thaddeus and Vance sniped, Vance bossed, and Thad whinged, and Finch simpered, and Spencer was going to shoot himself in the face himself if he didn't escape.
So with his ribs still taped up, he hobbled to the main road to find a cab, riding back to Baker Street. He still had a few stitches, but most had come out. He was scabbed, black, blue, purple, green, and yellow.
By the time he made it up the stairs, he was puffing for breath and craving pain medicine worse than an alcoholic wanted a drink. He tilted his head, listening for Abby and Liam - likely still at one of the functions they'd worked on getting him in. He was so intelligent, and they hardly wanted to stifle his learning anymore than it had been..
Spencer sighed in relief as he grasped the knob of his door pushing it open.
Blond hair splayed across Spencer's dark sheets.
"Bran," Spencer said. The lizard-like giant lifted his head, cracking open his tired, red-rimmed eyes, dry and sore from crying rather than drinking.
"Spence," Bran's voice rasped, and he cleared his throat. "You aren't meant to be back."
Spencer still had a vice grip on the door. "I was gonna either shoot Finch or myself if I didn't get out of there," he replied. "But now I need bed." His ribs were screaming.
Bran was up in a flash, gingerly reaching for the broken boy. "C'mon then. I'll tuck you in."
Spencer hissed. "No tucking, just.. pyjamas," he said, letting Brandon help him down onto the bed with a groan. "Don't ever break your ribs," he tried to laugh.
"Are you supposed to be talking with broken ribs?" Bran asked tensely, his stormy eyes searching for soft clothes for Spencer. "Just rest. Don't talk."
"Piss off, everyone else has done their talking," Spencer sighed. "Anyone ever find my phone?"
"No. I think that girl got you a new one before they left," Brandon replied, holding out the flannel clothes with a sneer. "Need me to change you?"
Spencer snatched them away, flushing. "I'm not a fucking invalid. That girl is my Mum."
"No, you're a fucking moron is what you are. And don't say that. There's no proof, people don't just turn into robots when they die," Brandon replied, crossing his arms over his chest.
Spencer flailed a dismissive hand at Brandon. "Don't care, proof enough," he said, struggling with the pants. "If anyone found a way, it'd be her. Besides, she came for me."
"Yeah? And what the fuck were you thinkin' on that whole mess?" Bran asked, slipping into a bit of Freya's cadences. "You were right lucky she did get you out. You could've been killed, and for what? So you could be a hero? You are a hero, to a little kid who you just brought in here without a thought and damn near killed the only dad he's got right now-"
Spencer winced. Liam.
"How is he?" he asked.
"Right shaken up," Bran hissed. He tossed his messy hair with a shake of his head. "You disappeared, and then you came back all broken up, and then just when we finally get him to understand about Mary you drag along this woman pretending to be her. He's confused, Spencer. You've probably damaged the poor thing."
"I was trying to HELP!" Spencer roared. "Leave off my MUM!"
"She's not your mum! I touched your mum, I saw her body, she is dead!" Brandon shouted back, a tear sliding over his sharp cheek bone. "And you almost went with her!"
Spencer fell back on the bed, clutching his ribs as he panted from pain. "She brought me back," he said breathlessly.
"I can't do this with you if you won't see reason, Spencer," Brandon said, looking away, clenching his jaw. "We were all fuckin' mad with worry over you. This is-this isn't how it should be-"
"How what should be?" Spencer asked, voice dull. "I wasn't supposed to be weak. I was taught to escape, to fight back. I can't work, can't commit, can't escape. Every time I close my eyes, I breathe and I'm there again."
Brandon cringed into himself, not even sure how to respond to that. Those weaknesses, those awful feelings, were too close to the surface of his own mind. "I can't right now. I'm so angry with you-"
"So piss off and have a drink," Spencer said, barb intending to hurt. "I bet it's been killing you."
Bran's sharp intake of breath showed how close to home the statement was. Words that cut like a knife to his heart. He clenched his jaw, eyes bright with tears, and snarled. "Yeah. Sounds like a fuckin' plan." And he turned and started out, quicker than Spencer was with his injuries.
"Bran!" Spencer shouted, head dropping back as the tears started to flow. He blindly reached around, dropping his glasses on the side table and finding the new phone.
[Mum? - SH]
[Yes, angel? - MM]
[I messed up. Come see me? - SH]
Liam's delighted screech echoed up the stairs. "BANDON!"
"Little guy!" Brandon's wrecked voice replied, trying to laugh at the boy. "You hungry?"
[Of course, darling. Love to. - MM]
[James is dead. Seb shot him. - MM]
Spencer started crying harder, body hurting, but relief making it better.
[good riddance. soon, mum? - sh]
[baby is home. g2g - sh]
[Soon, dearest. Love to Liam. - MM]
[I love you, Spencer. Even if Brandon is right about me. -MM]
[not a chance. love you - sh]
Spencer struggled upright again. Damn his ribs. He wanted his family. Liam was babbling quickly, half words, half sounds as he recounted the latest 'Mummy and Me' class.
"Pen!" Liam said, eyes going big.
"Heyy, little man," Spencer said, aching to hold him, but knowing he couldn't.
"Spence, you ain't 'sposed to be 'ere! An' up, walkin'!" Abby scolded, helping him to the sofa. "C'mon, sit down, sit down. We missed you."
"Some of you," Spencer said, pulling her in to kiss her gently on the cheek. "I was going mad at Finch's. They're all barmy as housecats."
Brandon clattered around in the kitchen and Abby raised an eyebrow, gathering from Spence's words that there was some trouble in paradise. She tsked. "Well, the ones that count missed ya. You're in so much trouble! Should we um, go to play somewhere so you can work it ou' with himself?"
"Nope," Spencer said, glaring towards the kitchen. "Because if he drinks around the kid, he's out on his arse. No if's and's or butt's. Fuck, Abs, I hurt. I know - trouble - but torture was torture enough."
Abby brushed her fingers over his face, gently, trying not to agitate his bruises. "You was lucky to ge' out. And we was lucky to get you back. I don' think your pretty boy in there would drink 'round the baby. He loves Liam, probably more'n you."
"Good," Spencer sighed. "Because I can't deal with anyone who refuses to believe that's not my mum." He leaned into her touches. "I'm not glass."
"I dunno, she seemed li' your mum. I mean, it's weird, an' I don' understand it, but she brought you back to us. Can't hate 'er for that," Abby said, leaning down to kiss him sweetly. She sat next to him, watching Liam play with his toys, cuddled close to Spencer. "What do you think, Li-li? We like that lady?"
"She pretty," Liam said, zooming around a car. "An' like Batman girl and go ZZOOOOMMM!!!"
Spencer smiled, eyes still teary. He swiped at them, two of his fingers still in a split. "She said Jim was dead, properly this time," he breathed. "Seb killed him. They were never slow about taking out enemies." He lowered his voice. "How has Brandon been? Really." He took Abby's hand.
"Quiet. And sad, he was upset over you," Abby whispered, bringing his fingers up to kiss them. "Works 'imself to death when 'e's not babysittin' for me. Sleeps in your bed whether I'm in there or not."
"He looks red-eyed," Spencer said. "I swear if there's been a whiff of even rubbing alcohol.."
"He's been cryin'," Abby said harshly, shaking her head. Her voice dropped even lower. "Thinks I can't 'ear him, but he cries. Late. Before comin' to bed."
"Coming to bed?" Spencer said, equally as quiet. "Where have you been sleeping?"
"Like I said, he sleeps in your room whether I'm in there or no'," Abby replied. "I have to sleep in there. It's where we put the baby cage."
Spencer laughed. "It's a crib," he whispered, brain whirling with the news. "Can you pick Liam up a sec? I want a cuddle, but I don't think my ribs can handle it."
"Oi, Lil' Batman," Abby called swooping in to scoop up the child. "Let's give Pen a cuddle, yeah? Gently, gently, 'e's all beat up from fightin' the Joker."
Liam gasped. "Pen beat Joker?" he said, reaching for Spencer.
Spencer made a pained face. "Of course, but I had help," he said, reaching to stroke the boy's hair and baby-soft skin. He was beautiful, innocent, and Spencer was killing himself inside for thinking anything else was worth losing this. "Always ask for help, Li. It's a good thing to have people on your side. Like Superman and Wonder Woman."
"Wuuun Wuman! Hair, gib me 'trength!"
Spencer had to cover his laugh with a kiss to Liam's head. He reached up to stroke Abby's hair too.
"I would say too much telly, but I know for a fact that's comic books. Raising the kid right, are we?" he laughed. He gently hugged Liam again, who reached up to plant a wet, mushy kiss against Spencer's 'boo-boo' before going back to his toys.
"He's talkin' so nice," Abby sighed, smiling and leaning close to Spencer. "We missed you. Don' go doin' such bad things again, yeah?"
"I was trying to do something good," Spencer whispered. He kissed Abby once more, happy he could finally do so. "I may have.. been a bit.. rude to Brandon. If you could keep Li out of our room, I need to try to apologize." He coughed. "With words."
"An' sex?" Abby said with an eyeroll. "He ain't the only one havin' a dry spell!"
"Broken ribs," Spencer grunted as he got up. "Give me a day or two, besides I'm supposed to move regularly as I can." He held his side as he headed back for the noisy kitchen. "Bran."
"I'm busy," Brandon snapped quietly, watching his pans simmer on the stove.
"I'm trying to apologize," Spencer countered. "It's going to make sleep really awkward tonight otherwise."
"Why? You can't climb up the second set of stairs," Brandon said, stirring some simmering veggies.
"Because you've been tattled on," Spencer said. "You could've just said you missed me, jerkface."
"Who missed you? You're pompous and stupid and reckless and you snore like a fuckin' monster," Brandon replied with a careless shrug.
"Language," Spencer said mindfully of little ears. "You love me. You were scared. Brandon, come here."
Brandon looked over his shoulder, embarrassed at being caught. He ducked his chin, but wrapped his arms around Spencer. "At least you're home."
Spencer gingerly hugged him back, turning his face to kiss Brandon's neck. "I know," he whispered. "I love you, too. I'm sorry. Won't happen again. I swear it. And I'm sorry for what I said. You've been very strong, Bran, very strong. Don't break now."
Brandon hummed noncommittally, but his hands lingered on Spencer's shirt, gripping him close. He cleared his throat. "I'm burnin' the brat's dinner. Sit down, I gotta cook."
"We'll snog later," Spencer said, making it not a request. He wanted to feel good, even if it hurt. He headed back to the sitting room. He wanted Abby and Liam close again. He gingerly sat back beside her, breathing her in. She smelled like home. She sighed contentedly, holding his hand.
"Love you, Spence," Abby whispered, never tiring of watching her son.
"Love you, too, Abby," he breathed. "I'm sorry to you, too. I'll be better. I guess I should find a new job.."
"Or maybe jus' a new approach to your current one. You're clever, Spence. You'll find your way," Abby said. She smiled up at him. "Besides. If you take a few months off, you can babysit while I earn a livin', yeah? I'm teasin' you!"
Spencer bit his lip, squeezing her hand. Guilt trickled through him as he turned his head to the side.
"Uhm, you know I don't get paid for it or anythin'."
"I know, you're rich as princes," Abby sighed. "'S'why I need to work. 'Cause I need to know I can support us, if I've need to."
"And I need to work so my brain doesn't stagnate," he hummed. "But I suppose I can play dad for a few months. I've got at least three more weeks on my ribs, if not more, but I should be able to take him on more and more. He's really at a pivotal learning point. He'll start nursery school soon enough as well, and after that.. well these are the moments to remember, to hold onto when he turns himself into a teenager."
Abby reached up to brush his hair back, giving him a serious gaze. "I know you need to work. You're a smart man, you can't jus' waste away, I know. I'm tryin' to cheer you up, is all."
Spencer gave her a wane smile. "I'm trying," he whispered. "I thought I was a goner, and all I could think is what would happen to you three." He grasped her hand turning it over so he could kiss her palm. He'd seen his father do it to his mum in secret many times. She always seemed so.. in love when he did it. Abby grinned, her eyes shining at him.
"Well, you're home now, ain't ya? You don't have to worry what'll 'appen to us no more, because you're here," Abby whispered, leaning her head close to him. Spencer leaned in too, catching her lips even as his ribs twinged. He slide his hand behind her head, pulling her closer as their lips-
"Ewww! Mama!" Liam said. Abby snorted, smiling into Spencer's kiss.
"C'mere, you little bugger, I'll give you some, too," Abby laughed, making smoochy noises at the boy while she swooped closer to tickle his ribs. Liam giggled and laughed, squirming closer as she picked him up. Spencer had to catch a flying foot to keep it from knocking into him, but he was smiling, trying not to cry tears of happiness.
Spencer sighed in relief as he grasped the knob of his door pushing it open.
Blond hair splayed across Spencer's dark sheets.
"Bran," Spencer said. The lizard-like giant lifted his head, cracking open his tired, red-rimmed eyes, dry and sore from crying rather than drinking.
"Spence," Bran's voice rasped, and he cleared his throat. "You aren't meant to be back."
Spencer still had a vice grip on the door. "I was gonna either shoot Finch or myself if I didn't get out of there," he replied. "But now I need bed." His ribs were screaming.
Bran was up in a flash, gingerly reaching for the broken boy. "C'mon then. I'll tuck you in."
Spencer hissed. "No tucking, just.. pyjamas," he said, letting Brandon help him down onto the bed with a groan. "Don't ever break your ribs," he tried to laugh.
"Are you supposed to be talking with broken ribs?" Bran asked tensely, his stormy eyes searching for soft clothes for Spencer. "Just rest. Don't talk."
"Piss off, everyone else has done their talking," Spencer sighed. "Anyone ever find my phone?"
"No. I think that girl got you a new one before they left," Brandon replied, holding out the flannel clothes with a sneer. "Need me to change you?"
Spencer snatched them away, flushing. "I'm not a fucking invalid. That girl is my Mum."
"No, you're a fucking moron is what you are. And don't say that. There's no proof, people don't just turn into robots when they die," Brandon replied, crossing his arms over his chest.
Spencer flailed a dismissive hand at Brandon. "Don't care, proof enough," he said, struggling with the pants. "If anyone found a way, it'd be her. Besides, she came for me."
"Yeah? And what the fuck were you thinkin' on that whole mess?" Bran asked, slipping into a bit of Freya's cadences. "You were right lucky she did get you out. You could've been killed, and for what? So you could be a hero? You are a hero, to a little kid who you just brought in here without a thought and damn near killed the only dad he's got right now-"
Spencer winced. Liam.
"How is he?" he asked.
"Right shaken up," Bran hissed. He tossed his messy hair with a shake of his head. "You disappeared, and then you came back all broken up, and then just when we finally get him to understand about Mary you drag along this woman pretending to be her. He's confused, Spencer. You've probably damaged the poor thing."
"I was trying to HELP!" Spencer roared. "Leave off my MUM!"
"She's not your mum! I touched your mum, I saw her body, she is dead!" Brandon shouted back, a tear sliding over his sharp cheek bone. "And you almost went with her!"
Spencer fell back on the bed, clutching his ribs as he panted from pain. "She brought me back," he said breathlessly.
"I can't do this with you if you won't see reason, Spencer," Brandon said, looking away, clenching his jaw. "We were all fuckin' mad with worry over you. This is-this isn't how it should be-"
"How what should be?" Spencer asked, voice dull. "I wasn't supposed to be weak. I was taught to escape, to fight back. I can't work, can't commit, can't escape. Every time I close my eyes, I breathe and I'm there again."
Brandon cringed into himself, not even sure how to respond to that. Those weaknesses, those awful feelings, were too close to the surface of his own mind. "I can't right now. I'm so angry with you-"
"So piss off and have a drink," Spencer said, barb intending to hurt. "I bet it's been killing you."
Bran's sharp intake of breath showed how close to home the statement was. Words that cut like a knife to his heart. He clenched his jaw, eyes bright with tears, and snarled. "Yeah. Sounds like a fuckin' plan." And he turned and started out, quicker than Spencer was with his injuries.
"Bran!" Spencer shouted, head dropping back as the tears started to flow. He blindly reached around, dropping his glasses on the side table and finding the new phone.
[Mum? - SH]
[Yes, angel? - MM]
[I messed up. Come see me? - SH]
Liam's delighted screech echoed up the stairs. "BANDON!"
"Little guy!" Brandon's wrecked voice replied, trying to laugh at the boy. "You hungry?"
[Of course, darling. Love to. - MM]
[James is dead. Seb shot him. - MM]
Spencer started crying harder, body hurting, but relief making it better.
[good riddance. soon, mum? - sh]
[baby is home. g2g - sh]
[Soon, dearest. Love to Liam. - MM]
[I love you, Spencer. Even if Brandon is right about me. -MM]
[not a chance. love you - sh]
Spencer struggled upright again. Damn his ribs. He wanted his family. Liam was babbling quickly, half words, half sounds as he recounted the latest 'Mummy and Me' class.
"Pen!" Liam said, eyes going big.
"Heyy, little man," Spencer said, aching to hold him, but knowing he couldn't.
"Spence, you ain't 'sposed to be 'ere! An' up, walkin'!" Abby scolded, helping him to the sofa. "C'mon, sit down, sit down. We missed you."
"Some of you," Spencer said, pulling her in to kiss her gently on the cheek. "I was going mad at Finch's. They're all barmy as housecats."
Brandon clattered around in the kitchen and Abby raised an eyebrow, gathering from Spence's words that there was some trouble in paradise. She tsked. "Well, the ones that count missed ya. You're in so much trouble! Should we um, go to play somewhere so you can work it ou' with himself?"
"Nope," Spencer said, glaring towards the kitchen. "Because if he drinks around the kid, he's out on his arse. No if's and's or butt's. Fuck, Abs, I hurt. I know - trouble - but torture was torture enough."
Abby brushed her fingers over his face, gently, trying not to agitate his bruises. "You was lucky to ge' out. And we was lucky to get you back. I don' think your pretty boy in there would drink 'round the baby. He loves Liam, probably more'n you."
"Good," Spencer sighed. "Because I can't deal with anyone who refuses to believe that's not my mum." He leaned into her touches. "I'm not glass."
"I dunno, she seemed li' your mum. I mean, it's weird, an' I don' understand it, but she brought you back to us. Can't hate 'er for that," Abby said, leaning down to kiss him sweetly. She sat next to him, watching Liam play with his toys, cuddled close to Spencer. "What do you think, Li-li? We like that lady?"
"She pretty," Liam said, zooming around a car. "An' like Batman girl and go ZZOOOOMMM!!!"
Spencer smiled, eyes still teary. He swiped at them, two of his fingers still in a split. "She said Jim was dead, properly this time," he breathed. "Seb killed him. They were never slow about taking out enemies." He lowered his voice. "How has Brandon been? Really." He took Abby's hand.
"Quiet. And sad, he was upset over you," Abby whispered, bringing his fingers up to kiss them. "Works 'imself to death when 'e's not babysittin' for me. Sleeps in your bed whether I'm in there or not."
"He looks red-eyed," Spencer said. "I swear if there's been a whiff of even rubbing alcohol.."
"He's been cryin'," Abby said harshly, shaking her head. Her voice dropped even lower. "Thinks I can't 'ear him, but he cries. Late. Before comin' to bed."
"Coming to bed?" Spencer said, equally as quiet. "Where have you been sleeping?"
"Like I said, he sleeps in your room whether I'm in there or no'," Abby replied. "I have to sleep in there. It's where we put the baby cage."
Spencer laughed. "It's a crib," he whispered, brain whirling with the news. "Can you pick Liam up a sec? I want a cuddle, but I don't think my ribs can handle it."
"Oi, Lil' Batman," Abby called swooping in to scoop up the child. "Let's give Pen a cuddle, yeah? Gently, gently, 'e's all beat up from fightin' the Joker."
Liam gasped. "Pen beat Joker?" he said, reaching for Spencer.
Spencer made a pained face. "Of course, but I had help," he said, reaching to stroke the boy's hair and baby-soft skin. He was beautiful, innocent, and Spencer was killing himself inside for thinking anything else was worth losing this. "Always ask for help, Li. It's a good thing to have people on your side. Like Superman and Wonder Woman."
"Wuuun Wuman! Hair, gib me 'trength!"
Spencer had to cover his laugh with a kiss to Liam's head. He reached up to stroke Abby's hair too.
"I would say too much telly, but I know for a fact that's comic books. Raising the kid right, are we?" he laughed. He gently hugged Liam again, who reached up to plant a wet, mushy kiss against Spencer's 'boo-boo' before going back to his toys.
"He's talkin' so nice," Abby sighed, smiling and leaning close to Spencer. "We missed you. Don' go doin' such bad things again, yeah?"
"I was trying to do something good," Spencer whispered. He kissed Abby once more, happy he could finally do so. "I may have.. been a bit.. rude to Brandon. If you could keep Li out of our room, I need to try to apologize." He coughed. "With words."
"An' sex?" Abby said with an eyeroll. "He ain't the only one havin' a dry spell!"
"Broken ribs," Spencer grunted as he got up. "Give me a day or two, besides I'm supposed to move regularly as I can." He held his side as he headed back for the noisy kitchen. "Bran."
"I'm busy," Brandon snapped quietly, watching his pans simmer on the stove.
"I'm trying to apologize," Spencer countered. "It's going to make sleep really awkward tonight otherwise."
"Why? You can't climb up the second set of stairs," Brandon said, stirring some simmering veggies.
"Because you've been tattled on," Spencer said. "You could've just said you missed me, jerkface."
"Who missed you? You're pompous and stupid and reckless and you snore like a fuckin' monster," Brandon replied with a careless shrug.
"Language," Spencer said mindfully of little ears. "You love me. You were scared. Brandon, come here."
Brandon looked over his shoulder, embarrassed at being caught. He ducked his chin, but wrapped his arms around Spencer. "At least you're home."
Spencer gingerly hugged him back, turning his face to kiss Brandon's neck. "I know," he whispered. "I love you, too. I'm sorry. Won't happen again. I swear it. And I'm sorry for what I said. You've been very strong, Bran, very strong. Don't break now."
Brandon hummed noncommittally, but his hands lingered on Spencer's shirt, gripping him close. He cleared his throat. "I'm burnin' the brat's dinner. Sit down, I gotta cook."
"We'll snog later," Spencer said, making it not a request. He wanted to feel good, even if it hurt. He headed back to the sitting room. He wanted Abby and Liam close again. He gingerly sat back beside her, breathing her in. She smelled like home. She sighed contentedly, holding his hand.
"Love you, Spence," Abby whispered, never tiring of watching her son.
"Love you, too, Abby," he breathed. "I'm sorry to you, too. I'll be better. I guess I should find a new job.."
"Or maybe jus' a new approach to your current one. You're clever, Spence. You'll find your way," Abby said. She smiled up at him. "Besides. If you take a few months off, you can babysit while I earn a livin', yeah? I'm teasin' you!"
Spencer bit his lip, squeezing her hand. Guilt trickled through him as he turned his head to the side.
"Uhm, you know I don't get paid for it or anythin'."
"I know, you're rich as princes," Abby sighed. "'S'why I need to work. 'Cause I need to know I can support us, if I've need to."
"And I need to work so my brain doesn't stagnate," he hummed. "But I suppose I can play dad for a few months. I've got at least three more weeks on my ribs, if not more, but I should be able to take him on more and more. He's really at a pivotal learning point. He'll start nursery school soon enough as well, and after that.. well these are the moments to remember, to hold onto when he turns himself into a teenager."
Abby reached up to brush his hair back, giving him a serious gaze. "I know you need to work. You're a smart man, you can't jus' waste away, I know. I'm tryin' to cheer you up, is all."
Spencer gave her a wane smile. "I'm trying," he whispered. "I thought I was a goner, and all I could think is what would happen to you three." He grasped her hand turning it over so he could kiss her palm. He'd seen his father do it to his mum in secret many times. She always seemed so.. in love when he did it. Abby grinned, her eyes shining at him.
"Well, you're home now, ain't ya? You don't have to worry what'll 'appen to us no more, because you're here," Abby whispered, leaning her head close to him. Spencer leaned in too, catching her lips even as his ribs twinged. He slide his hand behind her head, pulling her closer as their lips-
"Ewww! Mama!" Liam said. Abby snorted, smiling into Spencer's kiss.
"C'mere, you little bugger, I'll give you some, too," Abby laughed, making smoochy noises at the boy while she swooped closer to tickle his ribs. Liam giggled and laughed, squirming closer as she picked him up. Spencer had to catch a flying foot to keep it from knocking into him, but he was smiling, trying not to cry tears of happiness.
***
Spencer assured Abby that he could take care of the boy for the day. He was up and about more often and he still wanted to see his own mother.
[Mum? Now a good time? - sh]
[Please. It's dreadfully dull here. - MM]
[I'll start getting Li ready for a nap. Any time - sh]
Liam was still bounding through the house, playing some strange game of touch all the things that belonged to Sherlock. Then all the things that belonged to John. And so on. Spencer was exceptionally surprised at the boys observation, but it's also possible his mind was just drawing conclusions from random data.
"Li-li, want some lunch?"
"Nuh," Liam said, playing with a cord on the blinds. "Lunch mean nap. No nap."
"What about lunch, then nap, then Mare-mare?" Spencer asked.
The boy seemed to consider this. His weirdly light eyes roamed the room in consideration as he put the cord into his mouth. Brandon and Abby often went flying for him when Liam did things like that, but Spencer figured the boy was merely adding 'taste' to his memory banks. He dropped the cord then toddled towards the kitchen in silence.
"Alright," Spencer said.
They'd had several talks about how Spencer couldn't pick him up for awhile. Thankfully one of the chairs had become 'Liam's' and was fitted with a sturdy booster seat. The boy was waiting to be pushed up to the table. Spencer fed him a mix of mushy peas, toast, and chopped up chicken leftovers that Brandon had made.
Midway through the shared lunch, the boy was rubbing his eyes.
"Want to sleep in the big boy bed?" Spencer asked.
"Really?" Liam asked.
"Hop to it!" Spencer said as he followed the little streak of lightning down the hall. Liam was crawling up the bed, nestling into one of the pillows. "Hang on, Batman. I'll get your toy." A stuffed bat, a gift from Sherlock and John, had become Liam's favorite 'teddy'. Spencer sang softly, stroking Liam's head as he watched dark lashes flutter onto cocoa-soft cheeks.
He slipped out silently to wait for his mother.
She slipped in like a ghost, taking the steps with slow and calculated grace. She'd really tried to look a mite older today, pulling her hair into a soft bun, with curls escaping to frame her face, tailored clothes instead of loose frills. At the top stair, feeling a little too nostalgic at the scenery, Mary smiled. "Spencer?"
"Mum," Spencer said, holding out his arms. Mary stepped into them, hugging him gently, breathing him in.
"My dear, how are you?" she asked softly, pulling back to get a good look at him. "You're terribly pale."
"Healing, Mother," he said. "And taking care of my boy. He's an handful. I thought I was ready to take him on all by myself. Please, come sit with me. Tell me everything without Dads or madmen, or my ruddy cousin."
"Yes, well, Brandon's current attitude is rather my fault, I'm afraid," Mary said quietly, perching on the sofa. Everything looked so familiar here. "Unfortunately. What do you want to know? I'm avoiding your fathers and other than that I've been shagging Jack and Seb on any surface I can get them to sit still on. It's been wretchedly boring."
"Care to switch it up? I haven't had more than a snog in ages," Spencer griped, not that he could bare to let them look at his body. He sat gingerly beside Mary, reaching for her. "Bran doesn't believe its really you - it is, isn't it? In there?" He tapped her forehead.
"Not according to Sherlock," Mary griped, biting her lip. "Well, sort of. General consensus is that I am Mary, but not human. Not good enough, I s'pose. I've been through it with them but since you missed it, all her memories downloaded onto a computer brain, same life, same hopes, same feelings- well, I find your father rather repulsive right now, so that's new. Perhaps I'm not Mary. But I want to be. I like to think I am. I love you, if that helps."
"What does Father know about being human?" Spencer drawled. "I think you're my Mum. No one else would've gone so far to save me," he added in a whisper.
"I should like to think that is true," Mary hummed, laying her head back, looking up at the ceiling. "I was heartbroken and furious when I found you were missing. And possessive. I would've gone through hell and back to get you."
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "You were gone, and I was trying to get back on with my life.." He shook his curls as he ducked his head. "I thought I could put away a murderer, or at least a bad person."
"It's alright. It's good, actually. I mean, not for you, and I'm still ever so cross with you, but John- well, we weren't going to tell John. He's taking it much better than I expected, even helped Sebby take out James, which was kind of him," Mary replied. She scooted closer and threaded her hand through his hair, fluffing it up. "No regrets, dear."
"See, that's my mum," Spencer said, smiling. "Da's a pisser. Why'd you ever-?" He shook his head. "Everything's about John, John, John, Mum. I just don't understand it.."
"You know, Spencer, I don't understand, either. It's so strange, but right now I don't even like him. We were alright- in fact, I waited until I knew he'd be alone to see him when I came back. I just wanted a moment, alone, with him. When I woke up in the lab, I was wretchedly lonely," Mary said softly, looking over at her son, touching his face. "But when he said I wasn't human, when he said he didn't want to be like me- I'd never even considered making him into this! But something just clicked. He's just as bad as Jim. Our love wasn't some flash in the pan that wouldn't last- he just never wanted it to. He never wanted to work for anything, put the effort in. I'm grateful that because of him I have you, but I can't believe I wasted so many years pining for someone who is clearly not worth my time. I deserve better."
"You do, Mum. You really do," Spencer said, leaning into her touch. "I-" He felt tears prickle at the edge of his eyes. He was more prone now than ever to it, though he tried to hide it even more. "Before, before-" He shook his head trying to organize his thoughts the way John had taught him before speaking. "Brandon compared us, the three of us to you and Dad and Father. I'd rather be you, Seb, and Jack. Can it work, Mum?"
"Oh, I should hope so, dear. Otherwise why am I even bothering this time around," Mary replied, brow furrowing. "You can do anything you set your mind to, Spencer. Just don't be lazy. Sometimes you have to, as I said about your father, work for the things you love. It's not at all easy."
Spencer nodded. "I needed you," he whispered. "I needed you to come back. I.. prayed." Their family had never really been religious. Freya's opinions on the supernatural notwithstanding.
"I didn't mean to go. I was just suddenly not there anymore," Mary replied, curling closer so she could hold him. "I just wish- I wish I could stop feeling so- unsure. When I was alive, I was sure about everything."
"You're younger now," Spencer said, leaning against her. "You're.. different. In a way, you're only weeks old. I'd be a lot less sure of myself if I were too, and I'm pretty piss scared of everythin', Mum! Especially these days."
"Tell me all about it, darling, and I'll tell you what to do," Mary teased, grinning. "That's what mums are for, isn't it?"
"There's.. scars," Spencer said, gesturing to himself, curling into her. "And the.. nightmares."
"I miss my scars. They were like proof that life had happened," Mary sighed, stroking her hand over his back. "Do you dream about the people who hurt you? I could find them, if you like. Hurt them back."
"Seb killed the one who hurt me worst," Spencer sighed. "He haunted you, too. It's awful. I'm worried about scaring Liam, and for fuck's sake, I was a Dom. A damned good one."
"Little boys bounce back quite well, I think," Mary said with a soft laugh. "You did, at any rate. The nightmares will pass, darling. And you'll let your more submissive partners see a weaker side of you, which will only make you look stronger when you take care of them. It sounds mad as anything, but trust me, it works."
"Bran doesn't like it when I'm weak," Spencer whispered.
"No, Bran doesn't like himself when he's weak. He likes you just fine," Mary said. "It's his father's fault, really. I'm afraid there's nothing for it."
"Fuck all the Holmeses," Spencer swore. "You should've had me with Jack."
"You'd've been ginger. I like your hair the way it is," Mary snorted. She held Spencer tight. "You're doing so well, Spencer. You really are. I'm very proud of you, getting kidnapped being the exception, but James was always hard to escape."
Spencer shuddered. "He planned for everything. He never came by again. Not that I saw. It was always strangers. I don't think it had to do with me. Father always said he came to gloat."
"Yes. You know, I've seen him shot in the head in front of me twice now, and I'm still not even really sure he's dead," Mary laughed, although there was a nervous echo in it. "I was foolish to think I'd done it the first time. I should've protected you, protected Seb, better."
"Protected Seb?" Spencer asked, pulling back slightly. "What do you mean?"
"I s'pose we never told you," Mary trailed off, meeting his gaze. "Seb sort of belonged to James. We didn't always get on like we used to. In fact, even though he would probably not admit to it now, Seb used to hate me. And then, when we thought he was dead, when we were the only two people left and I was a boss and he was my gun, we sort of just thought, eh, what the hell?"
"Mum!" Spencer said, surprised and a bit scandalized. He remembered the little one sleeping in the next room and lowered his voice. "So you just hijacked Moriarty's right hand man?"
"He was in jail, what was he going to use him for? Besides, he was rather cruel to Seb and Seb was fairly dishy. I didn't have anyone in the world, and employees are much more loyal than lovers because you pay them to be," Mary shrugged. "Somewhere in there I sort of fell for him, even though I never told him, and then I decided to have Finch with him. Which was about the time when he told me he loved me, too, and it worked out. He was ever so cross when I started sleeping with your father again, though."
"Why'd you do it?" Spencer wondered. "I mean, you'd had Finch. You had a family. What made you go back to him - them. I mean, I love my dads, Mum, but sometimes they're idiots."
"I love them. So very passionately. Love doesn't get used up," Mary replied with a shrug. "Maybe I'm greedy. Flawed that way, but God, every time Sherlock would look at me, like cared, like I was something special." She pressed her lips into a thin line, shaking her head. "Not anymore. I'm through with that callous, calculating, mean-spirited-"
"Mum," Spencer said, touching her cheek. "Can I be the one to offer advice this time?"
"You can certainly try, but I warn you, I don't usually listen," Mary said with a wry smile.
"Do we ever?" Spencer laughed. "If it were Dad, I'd say tell him how it was done - but Father's probably got it all figured out. Tell him you wouldn't want an.. android body? For him. You know how vain he is. He probably just doesn't want someone else being Sherlock Holmes, even if it's himself. Or y'know, sod 'em all and come move back home with me." He beamed.
Mary smiled at him, but her eyes were still sad. She never wanted to keep Sherlock, not like she had Seb, but her heart was still broken over the idea that he didn't want to come, too. That he rejected her so completely. That she wasn't enough again. "You know, if John and Free weren't so dependent on everyone staying together, I probably would have plucked up my two and brought them back here, leaving Sherlock to rot in that mouldy old cabin. You'll just have to put up with frequent visits, I'm afraid."
Spencer's smile turned sad too. "Damn shame," he whispered. "But it makes sense. I mean, I'm a bloody.. foster parent. I got this kid and a live-in girlfriend. And that thing upstairs." He rolled his eyes. "And- can you keep a secret?"
"Of course I can!" Mary said, leaning closer.
"Abs and I have talked about having one once Li's a little older," he whispered. "You know, a sib."
"Oh my! You get quite industrious without me around looking out for you. Being kidnapped, another baby," Mary teased. "Next thing you'll have picked up a few stray dogs or something."
Spencer blushed. "Nah, just a few of Father's irregulars," he said. "And it was just talk, y'know? She hasn't seen any of, well, how it's healed.. You think I'll ever have a scene again?"
"I'm sure you're not supposed to ask your mother questions like that," Mary replied, mischief glinting in her eyes.
"Whoelse'mItoask?" Spencer mumbled. "Finch would turn red and go into labor!"
"Ah, Finch. I should probably drop in and see her sometime, except I shouldn't like to upset her," Mary said, giggling at her son's discomfort.
"I'll talk to her," Spencer said. "Vance is sure of you, I know. Mum, you have to know your grandkids."
At that, a tiny figure appeared, stuffed bat in his clutches as he rubbed his eyes.
"Looks like Batman is awake," Mary said with a loving smile.
"Mare-mare," Liam gasped, running headlong to her. Spencer tried to dodge, but still got a little foot in his thigh.
"Oof! Careful, Bruce," Spencer snorted.
"Mare-mare," Liam said, gulping air. "Pen went away and got boo-boos an' an' Bandon cried and was sad. And Mama was sad." Mary picked him up to settle him on her lap.
"And Liam? Were you sad?" Mary asked, making her eyes big and innocent.
Liam nodded, big pout on his little lips. He leaned in to Mary's ear. "Pen gives best hugs," he whispered loudly. "Mama likes him best cos he hugs good."
Mary had to bite back a laugh, sending a dimpled smile to Spencer. "And Pen hugs Mama in front of Batman, does he?" Mary squeezed Liam. "Pen's all better now, so Brandon doesn't have to cry."
"I do no such thing," Spencer said, eyes practically bugging out of his head. "Mum, broken ribs!"
Liam tossed his arms around Mary's neck, snuggling tight.
"Besides, Liam gives the best hugs, right?" Spencer said, smiling at her. "He's the sweetest cuddle-bug."
"Ah, yes, the best little hugger in the world," Mary beamed, cheeks dimpling. "Makes me miss when you were little. You loved to be held."
"Everyone was so tall," Spencer pouted. "I hated having to look up." And only seeing Mary once in awhile meant he clung all the tighter. "Anyway, I promised Batman here that if he ate and napped he could visit with you. Yeah, Granmummy?"
"Yes, please, I don't want to go back yet," Mary agreed. She patted Liam's little back. "What trouble shall we cause, Liam?"
"Space ships!"
"Ah! No!" Spencer said. "It's not what you think he means. How about the memory game, Li? Can you point out everything that was alive?"
Liam hopped out of Mary's lap and went to point at skulls, a taxidermy mouse box display.. uncertain, Liam stopped by the fireplace. He pointed at the wood.
"Dis?"
"Yes, very good," Mary hummed approvingly. "That was a tree."
Liam's eyes lit up. He hurried over to the old writing desk, grabbing a handful of papers. "Dis!"
"Also trees, very good!" Mary said, watching him closely.
Liam wandered the room, looking around.
"He follows logic very well, Mum."
Liam picked up Spencer's phone, face uncertain. "Dis?" he said, voice small.
Mary looked over at Spencer, a little uncertain herself, before looking back at Liam. "No, that wasn't alive."
"It talked," Liam complained.
Spencer gestured the boy over. "People on the other side talked," he said. "This is just a tool. It doesn't think." Liam nodded.
"Think. Tree thinks?"
"Trees breathe," Mary suggested, not wanting to say if trees could think or not. "Alive things can breathe."
"Mare-mare breathe!" Liam said. "Pen breef, an Ban, an Mama." He began to wander back away with Spencer's mobile in his hand.
"See? Follows logical patterns. Self learning," Spencer said, proudly.
"Brilliant," Mary agreed, just as pleased as Spencer. "Just like you."
"I may need some help putting him through school," Spencer said. "He's going to need more than just the structured ones, and I'm not sending him to boarding school. You're going to stay around, right? This isn't temporary?"
"I- I don't like to make promises. But I'm trying to stay. I would like to stay," Mary replied uneasily. In her life, it was never too good to get attached to situations.
"Stay in touch at least," Spencer whispered. "I know you can text. Promise me you will."
"I will text, I promise," his mother agreed. "I should probably go soon. I heard a whisper about Seb getting worried."
"Nosy, Mum," Spencer laughed. "Don't go listening in on me."
Mary giggled and wrinkled her nose at him. "I would never!"
"Sooo would," he replied smartly. "Li-li! Say bye-bye to Mare-mare."
Liam's lip wobbled as he looked at her with wide round eyes. She opened her arms to the little boy. Liam was back in her arms in an instant, hiccuping. Spencer rubbed his back. "Shh, shh, it's okay," he soothed. "She'll be back. He's awful attached, afraid of us leaving."
"You shall have to come out, too," Mary soothed, rocking the baby boy in her arms. "Would you like that? You can out and we'll take a walk in the woods, and Seb and Jack and John and Free will cuddle you and tell you all about tanks and guns. Would you like that, darling?"
Liam nodded, big watery eyes looking at her. "Promise?"
"Of course, sweetheart, I promise," Mary said, kissing his forehead. "Now if you don't go, Sebby won't eat his dinner because he'll be worried. Can't have him going hungry, can we?"
Liam's hair flew about as he scrambled into Spencer's lap.
"Bye, Mare-mare," he said, sticking his fingers in his mouth in worry. Spencer soothed him with pets and soft kisses. He held out an arm towards his mother.
"Bye, Mum," he said softly. "Come again soon. We'll make it out at some point, even if it's just Abs and I."
She kissed them both on the head, hugging Spencer with Liam wedged between them. "Alright, darling. Be safe, text me. Bye-bye, precious boys."
Spencer held the boy who flopped bonelessly against him as Mary left.
"Guess it's just you and me, kid," he said, looking down. Liam looked up, eyes practically glowing with swirling colors. People called them hazel. Spencer half wondered if his sister had brought him a changeling child, brilliant and magic - and he was a man of science. At least, until he'd become a parent.
[Please. It's dreadfully dull here. - MM]
[I'll start getting Li ready for a nap. Any time - sh]
Liam was still bounding through the house, playing some strange game of touch all the things that belonged to Sherlock. Then all the things that belonged to John. And so on. Spencer was exceptionally surprised at the boys observation, but it's also possible his mind was just drawing conclusions from random data.
"Li-li, want some lunch?"
"Nuh," Liam said, playing with a cord on the blinds. "Lunch mean nap. No nap."
"What about lunch, then nap, then Mare-mare?" Spencer asked.
The boy seemed to consider this. His weirdly light eyes roamed the room in consideration as he put the cord into his mouth. Brandon and Abby often went flying for him when Liam did things like that, but Spencer figured the boy was merely adding 'taste' to his memory banks. He dropped the cord then toddled towards the kitchen in silence.
"Alright," Spencer said.
They'd had several talks about how Spencer couldn't pick him up for awhile. Thankfully one of the chairs had become 'Liam's' and was fitted with a sturdy booster seat. The boy was waiting to be pushed up to the table. Spencer fed him a mix of mushy peas, toast, and chopped up chicken leftovers that Brandon had made.
Midway through the shared lunch, the boy was rubbing his eyes.
"Want to sleep in the big boy bed?" Spencer asked.
"Really?" Liam asked.
"Hop to it!" Spencer said as he followed the little streak of lightning down the hall. Liam was crawling up the bed, nestling into one of the pillows. "Hang on, Batman. I'll get your toy." A stuffed bat, a gift from Sherlock and John, had become Liam's favorite 'teddy'. Spencer sang softly, stroking Liam's head as he watched dark lashes flutter onto cocoa-soft cheeks.
He slipped out silently to wait for his mother.
She slipped in like a ghost, taking the steps with slow and calculated grace. She'd really tried to look a mite older today, pulling her hair into a soft bun, with curls escaping to frame her face, tailored clothes instead of loose frills. At the top stair, feeling a little too nostalgic at the scenery, Mary smiled. "Spencer?"
"Mum," Spencer said, holding out his arms. Mary stepped into them, hugging him gently, breathing him in.
"My dear, how are you?" she asked softly, pulling back to get a good look at him. "You're terribly pale."
"Healing, Mother," he said. "And taking care of my boy. He's an handful. I thought I was ready to take him on all by myself. Please, come sit with me. Tell me everything without Dads or madmen, or my ruddy cousin."
"Yes, well, Brandon's current attitude is rather my fault, I'm afraid," Mary said quietly, perching on the sofa. Everything looked so familiar here. "Unfortunately. What do you want to know? I'm avoiding your fathers and other than that I've been shagging Jack and Seb on any surface I can get them to sit still on. It's been wretchedly boring."
"Care to switch it up? I haven't had more than a snog in ages," Spencer griped, not that he could bare to let them look at his body. He sat gingerly beside Mary, reaching for her. "Bran doesn't believe its really you - it is, isn't it? In there?" He tapped her forehead.
"Not according to Sherlock," Mary griped, biting her lip. "Well, sort of. General consensus is that I am Mary, but not human. Not good enough, I s'pose. I've been through it with them but since you missed it, all her memories downloaded onto a computer brain, same life, same hopes, same feelings- well, I find your father rather repulsive right now, so that's new. Perhaps I'm not Mary. But I want to be. I like to think I am. I love you, if that helps."
"What does Father know about being human?" Spencer drawled. "I think you're my Mum. No one else would've gone so far to save me," he added in a whisper.
"I should like to think that is true," Mary hummed, laying her head back, looking up at the ceiling. "I was heartbroken and furious when I found you were missing. And possessive. I would've gone through hell and back to get you."
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "You were gone, and I was trying to get back on with my life.." He shook his curls as he ducked his head. "I thought I could put away a murderer, or at least a bad person."
"It's alright. It's good, actually. I mean, not for you, and I'm still ever so cross with you, but John- well, we weren't going to tell John. He's taking it much better than I expected, even helped Sebby take out James, which was kind of him," Mary replied. She scooted closer and threaded her hand through his hair, fluffing it up. "No regrets, dear."
"See, that's my mum," Spencer said, smiling. "Da's a pisser. Why'd you ever-?" He shook his head. "Everything's about John, John, John, Mum. I just don't understand it.."
"You know, Spencer, I don't understand, either. It's so strange, but right now I don't even like him. We were alright- in fact, I waited until I knew he'd be alone to see him when I came back. I just wanted a moment, alone, with him. When I woke up in the lab, I was wretchedly lonely," Mary said softly, looking over at her son, touching his face. "But when he said I wasn't human, when he said he didn't want to be like me- I'd never even considered making him into this! But something just clicked. He's just as bad as Jim. Our love wasn't some flash in the pan that wouldn't last- he just never wanted it to. He never wanted to work for anything, put the effort in. I'm grateful that because of him I have you, but I can't believe I wasted so many years pining for someone who is clearly not worth my time. I deserve better."
"You do, Mum. You really do," Spencer said, leaning into her touch. "I-" He felt tears prickle at the edge of his eyes. He was more prone now than ever to it, though he tried to hide it even more. "Before, before-" He shook his head trying to organize his thoughts the way John had taught him before speaking. "Brandon compared us, the three of us to you and Dad and Father. I'd rather be you, Seb, and Jack. Can it work, Mum?"
"Oh, I should hope so, dear. Otherwise why am I even bothering this time around," Mary replied, brow furrowing. "You can do anything you set your mind to, Spencer. Just don't be lazy. Sometimes you have to, as I said about your father, work for the things you love. It's not at all easy."
Spencer nodded. "I needed you," he whispered. "I needed you to come back. I.. prayed." Their family had never really been religious. Freya's opinions on the supernatural notwithstanding.
"I didn't mean to go. I was just suddenly not there anymore," Mary replied, curling closer so she could hold him. "I just wish- I wish I could stop feeling so- unsure. When I was alive, I was sure about everything."
"You're younger now," Spencer said, leaning against her. "You're.. different. In a way, you're only weeks old. I'd be a lot less sure of myself if I were too, and I'm pretty piss scared of everythin', Mum! Especially these days."
"Tell me all about it, darling, and I'll tell you what to do," Mary teased, grinning. "That's what mums are for, isn't it?"
"There's.. scars," Spencer said, gesturing to himself, curling into her. "And the.. nightmares."
"I miss my scars. They were like proof that life had happened," Mary sighed, stroking her hand over his back. "Do you dream about the people who hurt you? I could find them, if you like. Hurt them back."
"Seb killed the one who hurt me worst," Spencer sighed. "He haunted you, too. It's awful. I'm worried about scaring Liam, and for fuck's sake, I was a Dom. A damned good one."
"Little boys bounce back quite well, I think," Mary said with a soft laugh. "You did, at any rate. The nightmares will pass, darling. And you'll let your more submissive partners see a weaker side of you, which will only make you look stronger when you take care of them. It sounds mad as anything, but trust me, it works."
"Bran doesn't like it when I'm weak," Spencer whispered.
"No, Bran doesn't like himself when he's weak. He likes you just fine," Mary said. "It's his father's fault, really. I'm afraid there's nothing for it."
"Fuck all the Holmeses," Spencer swore. "You should've had me with Jack."
"You'd've been ginger. I like your hair the way it is," Mary snorted. She held Spencer tight. "You're doing so well, Spencer. You really are. I'm very proud of you, getting kidnapped being the exception, but James was always hard to escape."
Spencer shuddered. "He planned for everything. He never came by again. Not that I saw. It was always strangers. I don't think it had to do with me. Father always said he came to gloat."
"Yes. You know, I've seen him shot in the head in front of me twice now, and I'm still not even really sure he's dead," Mary laughed, although there was a nervous echo in it. "I was foolish to think I'd done it the first time. I should've protected you, protected Seb, better."
"Protected Seb?" Spencer asked, pulling back slightly. "What do you mean?"
"I s'pose we never told you," Mary trailed off, meeting his gaze. "Seb sort of belonged to James. We didn't always get on like we used to. In fact, even though he would probably not admit to it now, Seb used to hate me. And then, when we thought he was dead, when we were the only two people left and I was a boss and he was my gun, we sort of just thought, eh, what the hell?"
"Mum!" Spencer said, surprised and a bit scandalized. He remembered the little one sleeping in the next room and lowered his voice. "So you just hijacked Moriarty's right hand man?"
"He was in jail, what was he going to use him for? Besides, he was rather cruel to Seb and Seb was fairly dishy. I didn't have anyone in the world, and employees are much more loyal than lovers because you pay them to be," Mary shrugged. "Somewhere in there I sort of fell for him, even though I never told him, and then I decided to have Finch with him. Which was about the time when he told me he loved me, too, and it worked out. He was ever so cross when I started sleeping with your father again, though."
"Why'd you do it?" Spencer wondered. "I mean, you'd had Finch. You had a family. What made you go back to him - them. I mean, I love my dads, Mum, but sometimes they're idiots."
"I love them. So very passionately. Love doesn't get used up," Mary replied with a shrug. "Maybe I'm greedy. Flawed that way, but God, every time Sherlock would look at me, like cared, like I was something special." She pressed her lips into a thin line, shaking her head. "Not anymore. I'm through with that callous, calculating, mean-spirited-"
"Mum," Spencer said, touching her cheek. "Can I be the one to offer advice this time?"
"You can certainly try, but I warn you, I don't usually listen," Mary said with a wry smile.
"Do we ever?" Spencer laughed. "If it were Dad, I'd say tell him how it was done - but Father's probably got it all figured out. Tell him you wouldn't want an.. android body? For him. You know how vain he is. He probably just doesn't want someone else being Sherlock Holmes, even if it's himself. Or y'know, sod 'em all and come move back home with me." He beamed.
Mary smiled at him, but her eyes were still sad. She never wanted to keep Sherlock, not like she had Seb, but her heart was still broken over the idea that he didn't want to come, too. That he rejected her so completely. That she wasn't enough again. "You know, if John and Free weren't so dependent on everyone staying together, I probably would have plucked up my two and brought them back here, leaving Sherlock to rot in that mouldy old cabin. You'll just have to put up with frequent visits, I'm afraid."
Spencer's smile turned sad too. "Damn shame," he whispered. "But it makes sense. I mean, I'm a bloody.. foster parent. I got this kid and a live-in girlfriend. And that thing upstairs." He rolled his eyes. "And- can you keep a secret?"
"Of course I can!" Mary said, leaning closer.
"Abs and I have talked about having one once Li's a little older," he whispered. "You know, a sib."
"Oh my! You get quite industrious without me around looking out for you. Being kidnapped, another baby," Mary teased. "Next thing you'll have picked up a few stray dogs or something."
Spencer blushed. "Nah, just a few of Father's irregulars," he said. "And it was just talk, y'know? She hasn't seen any of, well, how it's healed.. You think I'll ever have a scene again?"
"I'm sure you're not supposed to ask your mother questions like that," Mary replied, mischief glinting in her eyes.
"Whoelse'mItoask?" Spencer mumbled. "Finch would turn red and go into labor!"
"Ah, Finch. I should probably drop in and see her sometime, except I shouldn't like to upset her," Mary said, giggling at her son's discomfort.
"I'll talk to her," Spencer said. "Vance is sure of you, I know. Mum, you have to know your grandkids."
At that, a tiny figure appeared, stuffed bat in his clutches as he rubbed his eyes.
"Looks like Batman is awake," Mary said with a loving smile.
"Mare-mare," Liam gasped, running headlong to her. Spencer tried to dodge, but still got a little foot in his thigh.
"Oof! Careful, Bruce," Spencer snorted.
"Mare-mare," Liam said, gulping air. "Pen went away and got boo-boos an' an' Bandon cried and was sad. And Mama was sad." Mary picked him up to settle him on her lap.
"And Liam? Were you sad?" Mary asked, making her eyes big and innocent.
Liam nodded, big pout on his little lips. He leaned in to Mary's ear. "Pen gives best hugs," he whispered loudly. "Mama likes him best cos he hugs good."
Mary had to bite back a laugh, sending a dimpled smile to Spencer. "And Pen hugs Mama in front of Batman, does he?" Mary squeezed Liam. "Pen's all better now, so Brandon doesn't have to cry."
"I do no such thing," Spencer said, eyes practically bugging out of his head. "Mum, broken ribs!"
Liam tossed his arms around Mary's neck, snuggling tight.
"Besides, Liam gives the best hugs, right?" Spencer said, smiling at her. "He's the sweetest cuddle-bug."
"Ah, yes, the best little hugger in the world," Mary beamed, cheeks dimpling. "Makes me miss when you were little. You loved to be held."
"Everyone was so tall," Spencer pouted. "I hated having to look up." And only seeing Mary once in awhile meant he clung all the tighter. "Anyway, I promised Batman here that if he ate and napped he could visit with you. Yeah, Granmummy?"
"Yes, please, I don't want to go back yet," Mary agreed. She patted Liam's little back. "What trouble shall we cause, Liam?"
"Space ships!"
"Ah! No!" Spencer said. "It's not what you think he means. How about the memory game, Li? Can you point out everything that was alive?"
Liam hopped out of Mary's lap and went to point at skulls, a taxidermy mouse box display.. uncertain, Liam stopped by the fireplace. He pointed at the wood.
"Dis?"
"Yes, very good," Mary hummed approvingly. "That was a tree."
Liam's eyes lit up. He hurried over to the old writing desk, grabbing a handful of papers. "Dis!"
"Also trees, very good!" Mary said, watching him closely.
Liam wandered the room, looking around.
"He follows logic very well, Mum."
Liam picked up Spencer's phone, face uncertain. "Dis?" he said, voice small.
Mary looked over at Spencer, a little uncertain herself, before looking back at Liam. "No, that wasn't alive."
"It talked," Liam complained.
Spencer gestured the boy over. "People on the other side talked," he said. "This is just a tool. It doesn't think." Liam nodded.
"Think. Tree thinks?"
"Trees breathe," Mary suggested, not wanting to say if trees could think or not. "Alive things can breathe."
"Mare-mare breathe!" Liam said. "Pen breef, an Ban, an Mama." He began to wander back away with Spencer's mobile in his hand.
"See? Follows logical patterns. Self learning," Spencer said, proudly.
"Brilliant," Mary agreed, just as pleased as Spencer. "Just like you."
"I may need some help putting him through school," Spencer said. "He's going to need more than just the structured ones, and I'm not sending him to boarding school. You're going to stay around, right? This isn't temporary?"
"I- I don't like to make promises. But I'm trying to stay. I would like to stay," Mary replied uneasily. In her life, it was never too good to get attached to situations.
"Stay in touch at least," Spencer whispered. "I know you can text. Promise me you will."
"I will text, I promise," his mother agreed. "I should probably go soon. I heard a whisper about Seb getting worried."
"Nosy, Mum," Spencer laughed. "Don't go listening in on me."
Mary giggled and wrinkled her nose at him. "I would never!"
"Sooo would," he replied smartly. "Li-li! Say bye-bye to Mare-mare."
Liam's lip wobbled as he looked at her with wide round eyes. She opened her arms to the little boy. Liam was back in her arms in an instant, hiccuping. Spencer rubbed his back. "Shh, shh, it's okay," he soothed. "She'll be back. He's awful attached, afraid of us leaving."
"You shall have to come out, too," Mary soothed, rocking the baby boy in her arms. "Would you like that? You can out and we'll take a walk in the woods, and Seb and Jack and John and Free will cuddle you and tell you all about tanks and guns. Would you like that, darling?"
Liam nodded, big watery eyes looking at her. "Promise?"
"Of course, sweetheart, I promise," Mary said, kissing his forehead. "Now if you don't go, Sebby won't eat his dinner because he'll be worried. Can't have him going hungry, can we?"
Liam's hair flew about as he scrambled into Spencer's lap.
"Bye, Mare-mare," he said, sticking his fingers in his mouth in worry. Spencer soothed him with pets and soft kisses. He held out an arm towards his mother.
"Bye, Mum," he said softly. "Come again soon. We'll make it out at some point, even if it's just Abs and I."
She kissed them both on the head, hugging Spencer with Liam wedged between them. "Alright, darling. Be safe, text me. Bye-bye, precious boys."
Spencer held the boy who flopped bonelessly against him as Mary left.
"Guess it's just you and me, kid," he said, looking down. Liam looked up, eyes practically glowing with swirling colors. People called them hazel. Spencer half wondered if his sister had brought him a changeling child, brilliant and magic - and he was a man of science. At least, until he'd become a parent.
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