Part 29

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Lestrade and molly were visiting John. Lestrade sat across from John in Sherlock's chair, and molly sat on the floor between them, playing with toys.

"Anyone home?" Came a voice, accompanied by a knock on the door.

"Come in, mycroft." John said, and the eldest Holmes child walked into the flat. Molly looked up and glared at him. She hadn't seen him since the day she found out he sent Sherlock back to Moriarty.

"Molly, go say hi." Lestrade said, looking down at the girl.

"Don't wanna." Molly mumbled, going back to her toys. Mycroft inched into the room, sitting on a chair to john's left.

Lestrade moved to crouch down next to molly. "What's the matter, baby girl? Are you just being shy?" Lestrade cooed.

Molly shook her head. She thought that if she spoke to mycroft, he wouldn't know that she was still upset with him.

"Come here, sweetheart." Lestrade said, reaching out for Molly.

"No!" She shouted, standing up and running. Lestrade walked after her, confused. He reached her just as she made it to Sherlock's room and scooped her up. Molly whined.

"What has gotten into you, Molly?" He cooed, trying to figure out why she was behaving like this.

"Mycroft... make Sherlock go 'way." Molly whimpered out. Lestrade nodded.

"I know, sweetie. We're all still upset about it. Let's go back to the other room, okay?" He said, carrying her back to the sitting room. 

Molly pointed to her blanket, wanting to go back to playing with her toys, but lestrade shook his head.

"No, baby girl. If you can't behave, you're sitting with daddy." He said, sitting. He wrapped his arms around molly and held her close, rubbing her back. He popped a dummy into her mouth, and she snuggled into him.

Mycroft watched the two, smirking slightly.

"Have you thought about letting molly go back to her own age?" He asked. Lestrade looked at him.

"It's not that I'm 'not letting her', she regresses involuntarily, and some days she's just younger than on others." He answered.

"Okay, let's leave it alone, boys." John said, looking at the two.

"Right. We'd  better be off now, anyway. It's just about nap time, isn't it baby?" Lestrade said, standing. He saw himself out,  offering the others farewell.

John glanced at mycroft and frowned.

"I understand that you don't get regression, and that you think it's unbecoming of adults to act that way, but you can't say that in front of molly. She can't help it, and she's been through a lot. So has Sherlock, in case you've forgotten." John said, a bit snippy.

Mycroft sniffed.

"Very well. Thank you for the tea, John. I'll see you soon." MyCroft said. He grabbed his coat and umbrella and left. John sat in the quiet flat, relieved to finally have a moment to himself.

{*#^€|€*}?**~

Moriarty looked into Sherlock's bassinet. He just wanted to scoop him up and hold him close, assuring him that he would never leave him. He needed to give Sherlock a quick bath, but he didn't want to wake him.

Sherlock, however, beat him to it. He stared crying, dropping his dummy.

"It's okay, Lockie, daddy's got you." Moriarty cooed, lifting the boy into his arms. He patted Sherlock's nappy, and was surprised to find it clean. Maybe he ought to hold out of the bath until Sherlock had used it, or he might have an accident in the bath.

It didn't take long, and soon Sherlock was crying for a nappy change.

"Alright, little one, let's get you cleaned." Moriarty cooed. He carried Sherlock into green bathroom and laid out a changing mat, laying Sherlock down on it. He removed the dirty nappy and wiped Sherlock with baby wipes. Right from the changing mat, Moriarty sat Sherlock in the baby bath, already filled with warm water. He washed Sherlock gently, using a soft cloth to clear away the dead skin.

Sherlock cooed softly, playing with the bubbles. Moriarty finished bathing him and drained the water, rinsing Sherlock with clean water before wrapping him in a towel and scooping him up. He dried him off and carried him back into the small nursery, laying him in his bassinet.

He grabbed a nappy and slid it under Sherlock's bum, pulling it up and taping it closed. Sherlock gurgled, reaching out to Moriarty.

"I know, daddy just needed to get a nappy on you." Moriarty cooed, picking Sherlock up. He carried him upstairs to the master bedroom. Sherlock squinted to protect his eyes from the bright light.

Irene sat on the bed, smiling when she saw Sherlock. 

"Alright pal, you stay with mummy. Daddy will be back in a little bit." He cooed, laying Sherlock down on the bed. He left the room, and Irene smiled at Sherlock.

"Daddy's moving your bassinet up to your nursery. You've been so little lately that we don't need to worry about you fighting us anymore. What a good baby you are, Sherlock." She crooned, kissing his forehead gently.

Sherlock cooed happily. Irene popped a clean dummy in his mouth and stroked hi s hair, watching as his eyes drooped and closed. He would never give them any trouble; he was just a little baby, after all.

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