The Final Chapter

Snow

The boys come downstairs about an hour after we did, excited about something outside.

"Come look!"

"At what?"

Sherlock shifts below me, so I move off of him and sit on the sofa.

"Its snowing!"

I jump up when Sherlock does, all of us running towards the back door. Mycroft and Greg follow, still holding hands. William pushes open the door, slipping on his shoes and running out into the thick-falling snow. The rest of us follow suit, pulling on coats and shoes before walking out beside him. Sherlock grabs Williams coat, slipping that around his shoulders before walking out further into the yard. I follow him, sliding my arm around his waist.

"Its perfect."

"Not quite."

Sherlock looks down at me in confusion.

"Why not?"

"We havent gotten out decorations up yet. The lights, tree, stuff like that."

"The boys would love that."

"They would."

A snowball comes out of nowhere, hitting Sherlock in the back. He turns, scooping up a handful of snow. I do the same, smiling as we launch an attack of our own. We end up pairing off, me and Sherlock, Will and Hamish, and Mycroft with Greg. The snowball fight is fun, Sherlock cant hit anyone though.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Hit things."

I watch him lob another snowball at Mycroft, laughing when I see one of the many problems.

"You have to open your eyes when you throw the snowball Sherlock."

"I...I do?"

"Yes. That way you can see where you are throwing it."

"Like this..."

He backs up a few steps, dodging an attack from Greg, amd throws one at me. It hits my chest, dead centre.

"Yes. Like that. Not at me though."

We start laughing, ducking behind a tree as the other four team up on us momentarily. Sherlock slips on a patch of ice, yelling and grabbing onto my coat as he falls. I end up in the snow beside him, lying flat out on my back. William and Hamish end up beside us as well, squealing when Mycroft chucks more snow our way. They scramble up, running around the other side of the tree. I sit up, helping Sherlock up as well. He scoops up more snow, hitting Mycroft with it. Greg attacks us suddenly, having come around our back side. Hamish throws another snowball at Greg, and ends up hitting him in the face. Greg starts laughing, but quickly stops when blood starts dripping down his hand.

"Are you okay uncle Greg?"

"I'm fine."

"But look! Youre bleeding."

Hamish looks terrified, flinching when Mycroft walks over.

"Let me see it love."

Mycroft gently pulls Greg's hands away from his face, grimacing at the amount of blood there is.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

Everyone heads inside for lunch, Mycroft taking care of Greg's face.

"Grab me a cloth in warm water."

I run out, grabbing the med kit and whatever else they need. Mycroft refuses most of my help, so Sherlock and I start making lunch. Greg winces when Mycroft starts wiping away the blood, the rest of us can see the bruising already.

"What was in that snowball?"

"Ice based on the way it feels."

He chuckles weakly, re-assuring Hamish that he is okay when he walks into the kitchen. Sherlock starts handing out sandwiches to everyone, and we sit down to eat. Mycroft finishes with Greg's face quickly, mumbling softly throughout the process. I can catch a few phrases, mostly little things about him being okay and stuff. Sherlock leans against me, saying something about being tired.

Another short chapter, I think we may be nearing the end here soon. As always, thanks for reading. Love you all to pieces! 💙