Face the Odds

Chapter 14: Broken

"Nothing will ever be the same again, will it?" Mrs. Hudson sniffed as she clutched her handkerchief to her mouth.

"I'm afraid it won't." Sherlock replied grimly from where he sat in his armchair. Mrs. Hudson was seated across from him, in John's chair, and beside her – on the small side table – lay the book with the red balloon that John had called a 'me-substitute' not even days ago. The balloon had lost quite a bit of air by now, and hung limply off the side, but neither Sherlock nor Marie had been able to bear getting rid of it.

"We'll have to rally round, I expect." Mrs. Hudson murmured. "Do our bit. Look after little Rosie."

She broke into tears again, sniffling into her handkerchief, while Sherlock stood up as he said uncomfortably: "I'm just going to, um..."

He looked around uncertainly, before noticing the pile of letters next to his open laptop on the dining-table-turned-desk.

"Look through these things. There might be a case." Sherlock mumbled as he settled down before his laptop, and Mrs. Hudson murmured: "A case?"

Sherlock didn't respond, just staring at his laptop and Mrs. Hudson moaned: "Oh. You're not up to it, are you?"

Sherlock lowered his head, his hand clenching slightly as it hovered over his keyboard.

"Work is the best antidote to sorrow, Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock said firmly, and Mrs. Hudson shifted as she looked around.

"Where's Rose-Marie?" The elderly lady asked carefully at last, and Sherlock sighed again, his shoulders dropping.

"She's sleeping in the bedroom with the twins." He answered softly, not looking up and Mrs. Hudson gave him a sympathetic look.

They were all taking Mary's death hard, but dealing with it in their own ways. John... wasn't coping, and neither Sherlock nor Marie had heard from him since that terrible night at the aquarium. Mrs. Hudson was constantly crying, while Molly stoically helped John out as best as she could. Marie, it seemed, had drowned herself in her children, and Sherlock... Well, it seemed he was intent on drowning himself in his work once more.

"I see." Mrs. Hudson said at last, wiping her tears once more. "Well, the dearie needs to rest. Must keep strong."

She sniffed, while Sherlock just nodded tightly.

"I'll make some tea, shall I?" Mrs. Hudson offered, but Sherlock shook his head.

Mrs. Hudson sighed, and turned to leave him instead – sensing he wanted to be alone – when Sherlock called: "Mrs. Hudson?"

"Yes, Sherlock?" She questioned, and Sherlock blinked a few times as though he were trying to figure out how to say something.

He lowered his gaze as he began rather hesitantly: "If you ever think I'm becoming a bit..." He paused, swallowing hard. "...Full of myself, cocky or... over-confident..."

"Yes?" She asked, waiting, and Sherlock turned to face her fully at last.

"Would you just say the word 'Norbury' to me, would you?" He requested in a bit of a rush, and Mrs. Hudson repeated in confusion: "Norbury?"

"Just that." Sherlock nodded, before he looked down sorrowfully as he added softly: "I'd be very grateful."

Mrs. Hudson nodded pityingly, while Sherlock turned to rifle through the things on his desk just to avoid looking at Mrs. Hudson. Sensing he needed to be alone, Mrs. Hudson started to leave before she remembered something.

"Oh." She turned, reaching into her apron pocket and handed Sherlock a padded envelope. "This is for you. It was mixed up with my things. "

"Oh, um... if you could just leave it here." Sherlock said vaguely, gesturing at the pile of letters on his desk, and Mrs. Hudson nodded.