Now and Forever

27

'It's tradition.'

'It's stupid.'

'I know you hate it, Sherlock, but you know it's what she would have wanted-'

'We didn't do it last year.'

'That's because Jacob was in hospital. We couldn't go without him.'

Sherlock gritted his teeth and huffed at his older brother. 'It's still stupid. You do realise she's dead, Mycroft? She can't hear us.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes and busied himself trying to put his granddaughter into the buggy. 'Damn it!' He hissed. 'These pushchairs are so much harder to get children in than they used to be.'

Sherlock smiled smugly and picked up Alec, holding him tightly as he expertly slotted the two year old into his buggy. 'Not really, old man. You're just chronically un-coordinated.'

Mycroft sniffed. 'You've had babies around you for longer than I have, brother mine. I am still getting used to Annabeth.'

Annabeth gurgled happily and shook her head; tight blonde curls covered stormy grey eyes. Mycroft looked down at his granddaughter fondly and stroked a curl back behind her ear. 'You're beautiful,' he cooed in a very un-Mycroft-like way. 'Are you not?'

Kit, who was trying to persuade Lucie to take off her jumper, smiled at his father. 'Isn't she just?' Kit breathed, watching his daughter in awe. 'Just like her mummy.'

Violet, who had been sitting on the stairs waiting for everyone else to be ready for about ten minutes, snorted. 'It's a baby. They're all ugly.'

Kit smiled at his sister and walked over to her, flinging an arm around her back. 'You just don't know how to thank me for naming her after you,' he teased. 'Annabeth Violet Lestrade-Holmes, remember?'

Violet blushed and everyone laughed; even Benjamin, who was cracking his fingers nervously, laughed slightly.

'Shall we go, then?' Isaac said, slapping his hands together. They all nodded assent and they all began piling out of 221B, chatting and laughing and walking south, heading towards the Old Graveyard at St. Michael's church.

It was a yearly tradition that Sherlock despised; going to visit his mother's grave. They had missed last year because Jacob was in the psychiatric hospital but every year before, for forty three years, the entire Holmes clan (all those who were related by blood to Sherlock and Mycroft) had all gone to the grave on Violet Thomas' birthday.

Sherlock walked at the back and pushed Alec, watching his family fondly. 36 year old Isaac and 4 year old Lucie led the procession, while Mycroft, who had celebrated his seventieth birthday nine months ago, pushed his seven month old granddaughter in her buggy. 29 year old Kit was chatting away with Benjamin, now twenty-three, while 33 year old Violet and sixteen year old Jacob walked in near silence.

Sherlock's grin slipped slightly as he thought about Siger, his adoptive father and protector; Siger was now nearly 90 and had been moved into an old-peoples home three weeks previously. He had requested it, saying that he had been lonely since the death of Bea three years before, and Izzy and Aaron (who was now clean) had helped him move in. Siger seemed to be in good spirits but Sherlock knew it could well be a front; his would-be father had always hated making a fuss.

Benjamin laughed and Sherlock smiled as he looked at his son. The wedding had taken place two months previously, on a warm spring day, at the church where Sherlock and John had been married; John had given Benjy away and Sherlock had been Diego's best man. Since Sherlock had saved the relationship of his son and now son-in-law, he and Diego had become far closer; for an ordinary person, Sherlock thought Diego was remarkably competent.