Little Consulting Detective

17

Mycroft went to 221b bright and early the next morning. He had barely slept a wink the night prior, and he needed to talk to the others about his new plan.

Lestrade sat on the couch, Sherlock nestled in his lap. "Morning Mycroft." The detective inspector said. Mycroft gave a small wave and crossed the room to sit in sherlock's chair. John walked into the room, carrying a tray with theee teacups and a kettle.

"So what's our plan of action?" He asked, pouring tea and handing out the cups.

Mycroft swallowed before explaining. "Well, Moriarty wants a decision by tonight, but I'm going to get him to agree to a wager. If Sherlock can come out of his headspace in a week and stay out of it, we get molly back." He said. He took in a deep breath before saying the rest of the plan. "If he remains regressed... Sherlock goes back to Moriarty... and he keeps them both." Mycroft said.

"What?!" John shouted, upset. "How could you do that, mycroft? You're using your own brother as a pawn, for Christ's sake!" He spat, standing.

Sherlock started crying, startled by the outburst. Lestrade rocked him and stood, walking out of the room.

"Shh, it's alright, Sherlock. Uncle john's just upset with your brother. I am too." Lestrade cooed, rubbing sherlocks back. Lestrade grabbed sherlocks dummy from his nightstand and popped it into his mouth. "There there." Lestrade soothes, bringing the detective back to the living room.

"I realize that it seems callous-" mycroft began, and John glared at him.

"It IS callous." He snapped. He took a breath to calm himself and let mycroft continue.

"But I'm sure we can win this. We just have to get Sherlock to come back to his senses." Mycroft said. Lestrade looked at him.

"I thought the plan was to choose which one we wanted to save." He said, raising an eyebrow. Mycroft nodded.

"It was, but I thought that Moriarty would love this bet. Surely he can't resist this challenge, and when we win, we'll get molly home safely." Mycroft replies. He looked over at Sherlock, and walked over to heather men sitting on the couch, looking deeply into his brothers eyes. "Sherlock, please... if you're in there, come back to us before it's too late." He said softly.

Sherlock was confused. He was sure this was mycroft... but mycroft never let his guard down this much. He wasn't a compassionate man, not really. But here he was, kneeling in front of the regressed detective, looking so sad and vulnerable.

"M-my-" Sherlock gurgled, his soother falling from his lips. He whimpered, frustrated. His stupid tongue wasn't working with him, so he couldn't get any words out. He whined, causing mycroft to jump back a bit.

Lestrade shifted Sherlock in his arms and held him to his shoulder, rubbing his back in comfort. "It's alright, little one. Calm down, kiddo." Lestrade soothed. He popped the dummy back in sherlock's mouth and held him close, allowing the detective time to relax.

Mycroft stood, his eyes burning. He cleared his throat and tried to clear his eyes discretely. "I'm going to give Moriarty a ring. I'll talk to you soon." Mycroft said, leaving the room before the others could speak. Once he was safely out the door, mycroft closed his eyes and winced, hot tears trailing down his cheeks. He was really losing his edge, letting his emotions dictate him. He gathers himself and pulled out his phone, dialing the dreaded number of Moriarty.

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Molly laid in her crib, eyes closed. She was awake, but she wasn't ready to open her eyes. Sleep had been her only escape from her current situation, and she wasn't ready to entertain another day as an infant. Her peace was soon disturbed, however, when Moriarty walked into the nursery.

"Good morning, little one." He cooed. His voice was so warm and loving, but he was a deranged man, and molly didn't want to cooperate with him. She kept her eyes closed, struggling to keep up the act when she felt moriarty's hand on her tummy.

"It's time to wake up, baby girl. You don't want to be cranky at nap time, do you?" He said. Molly sighed and opened her eyes, moriarty's smile greeting her. "That's my girl." He said. He reached into her crib and picked molly up under the armpits, carrying her to the changing table. He undid her onesie and rolled it up over her tummy. She whimpered and squirmed. Moriarty tickled her tummy, and she burst out laughing.

"No, stop daddy!" She cried through laughter, not even realizing what she said. Just after, Molly's face went white and she gasped. How could she call Moriarty that? Molly started crying, ashamed. Moriarty cooed at her and kissed her forehead.

"Sweetie, it's okay. You're daddy's little girl, you don't need to be embarrassed." He said softly, trying to soothe her. He took this time to change her nappy, cleaning her up and dusting her with talc before pacing a fresh one on her. He taped the nappy up and lifted molly, holding her close and swaying side to side. He sang softly to her, which helped quiet the girl down.

"Daddy..." molly whispered, tears in her eyes. Moriarty kissed the top of her head again and patted her back.

"I know, baby girl." He soothed, holding the back of her head with one hand. Molly laid her head on moriarty's shoulder. It had only taken three minutes for her to act like an infant. Molly couldn't believe how easily she was slipping into that territory. How would she prove that she didn't want to be here?

Moriarty walked downstairs and sat molly in her high chair. "Okay poppet, mummy is gonna stay with you today. Daddy has some errands to run, but he'll see you after your nap." The criminal said. Molly nodded slowly. Moriarty ruffled her hair. 

"Bye Jim , see you later." Irene said, waving as Moriarty left the house. She turned back to molly and smiled fondly at her. "We're gonna have a good day today, darling, don't fret." She told molly, cupping her cheek. Molly gulped, closing her eyes and wish that the world would just end.