They had dinner at Lily's house and decided to leave the next day. Sherlock made a call to Mycroft, who was smug but agreed to look for information. Lestrade also said he was going to look for Robert with more vigor, though why he wasn't doing that before, Sherlock couldn't guess. His head is spinning, his heart is pounding. How could he miss this? He put Robert by the wayside, thought about him from time to time, but ultimately started focusing on other things. How could he be so stupid?
He could barely eat at dinner, though Lily tried to get him to. There was too much on his mind. He barely slept, and he couldn't really eat breakfast. Liam said something about staying for another day, so Lily and Sherlock were going home alone. They packed, and it was all generally a blur until they got on the train — where they are now.
His mind is still racing. Lily's sitting across from him, reading a book. How can she focus on anything else? Maybe he should talk this out with her. Maybe she can help him sort this out.
"I should go back to the Holders, shouldn't I?" he said.
She looked up. "It's not a bad idea. I know they already gave a description of Robert to Lestrade-" Sherlock has mentioned it, once "-but maybe they'll remember something else. Or maybe Arthur remembers where he met him. I don't know, Sherlock. It's a lot of maybes."
"That's partly what bothers me."
Lily shifts in her seat. "How do we know that this Samuel Roberts is the same person as Robert, anyway? It could be a coincidence."
"There are rarely true coincidences."
"I don't know. I'm a baker and I live on Baker Street."
"Yes, but that was meant to be."
Her brows furrow. "How do you mean?"
He shrugs. "It was supposed to happen. It was always going to."
"I didn't think you the type to believe in that sort of thing."
"I didn't, before I met you." He sighs. "This Robert fellow, if that's even his real name, he came to Boscombe for a reason. Like you said, this sort of thing doesn't happen here. He came here on purpose."
"Why?"
"It's where you live. He knew I'd know about it."
"But I never..." She thinks a moment. "I mean, neither of us ever met Robert. Do you think he was watching from afar or something?"
"Yes, but for how long? He could've known a case of that caliber, that societal importance, would be given to me. I've done it before."
"Right, you're a celebrity."
He waves this off. "How far back does the planning go? Where is it leading?" A realization hits him. "Susan Cushing's ex-boyfriend's name was Ray, and we never saw him. What if he's Ray, too?"
"Why, because his name starts with an R?"
"Maybe. Maybe I'm overthinking it." He rubs his temples, trying to get rid of his oncoming tension headache. "He's escaped detection thus far. He's smart, he's experienced. He gives just enough information to lead me down this trail. It sounds like Moriarty."
"But he's dead."
"He had plans in place." Sherlock remembers how little John said about the Eurus situation on the blog, as sensitive as some of that situation was. "Before he died, he went to my sister. Like he knew I would fake my death. Or maybe that was just plan B."
"You have a sister?"
"It's a bit of sore subject."
She frowns. "I'm sorry I asked."
"You didn't," he corrects. "I brought it up."
"Oh, right."
"She killed my best friend as a child. She is the reason I... am the way that I am. Barely human. But after all of that, after she tried to hurt me by hurting people I care about — like John and Molly — I only wanted to be more human. She was in pain. I visit her, from time to time. She just wanted a friend, really." Sherlock looks at Lily. "That's why I believe you were meant to be here. You show up just as I want to become more human. And, Lily, you are the most human person I have ever met."
She looks away, and at first he thinks she took that the wrong way, but then he sees that she's smiling, if only a little. "Thank you, Sherlock. If it helps, I think you are very human — different, in a good, remarkable way, but very human."
"Thank you."
"Is that why Molly is upset with you?" she suddenly asks. "Your sister, I mean."
Sherlock sighs. "Yes."
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked-"
"No, it's alright. Eurus, she told me there was a bomb in Molly's flat, and the only way she'd deactivate it was if Molly said the words 'I love you' to me on the phone. I couldn't tell her why. I just had to make her say it. And then she did, and it caused her a great deal of pain, and there was no bomb. It was all for nothing."
"I'm sorry, Sherlock."
"I've explained it to her since, but the whole thing has been very... hard for her. I don't blame her for being cold towards me. I would be."
They go quiet for a while. If this is Moriarty, who is doing his bidding? Sherlock took care of just about everyone in his organization. The rest scattered, never to be heard from again. He'd know. Wouldn't he? None of them were as powerful or as clever as Moriarty. And they were no longer working together.
The name Robert never came up when he was dismantling the organization. There was a name or two that started with R, but he took care of them. The possibilities here are very limited. He just can't see them all yet.
"You do realize this means someone is coming after me?" he says.
Lily meets his eyes, voice quiet. "Yeah, I gathered."
"They know where you live."
"Doesn't everybody? John mentioned that we're neighbors, in the blog. I said it was fine, of course-"
"They know where you live. They know where your family lives, at least the town, and it's small enough that he could check every door until he found your parents if he wanted to. I don't know if he will — perhaps not, if he's come to London — but nevertheless you could be in danger."
She pauses a moment. "What do you want me to do? Move?"
"No," he says instantly. "I don't want... I don't really want you to go anywhere. But you didn't ask to be put in danger when you moved to Baker Street, or when you started helping me. I'm saying that perhaps... you should stop."
"Sherlock, I've been threatened with a gun and I've still come back."
"This is different. It could be. Moriarty always knew to get to me through the people I care about. Baker Street itself is danger, when he makes his next move. What that is and when, I don't know. But there's more coming."
"And you'll need all the help you can get," she says. "I'm not walking away just because things get a little hairy, Sherlock. If you need me, I'm here."
The sincerity in her face is almost worrying. Who is he to have someone like her in his corner, and this steadfastly? If she got hurt because of him, he'd never forgive himself. All he can say is, quietly, "Thank you."
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When they get home, Lily stops at Speedy's for lunch and then sets to baking, her mind in a whirl.
What if he's right? — and he probably is. If this is Moriarty, then what? He said she could be in danger, not that that's going to stop her from helping. He's in danger. What if the plan really works this time? What if he can't stop this?
Why does him caring about her affect her so much?
Everything he said affected her. He said it, he said, "Moriarty always knew to get to me through the people I care about," and he clearly meant that she is one of those people. She knew that already, didn't she? They're friends. You care about your friends. She certainly cares about him, and surely he knows that by now.
But he said... he just said so much. And it's crazy that that is on her mind when something awful is coming.
"That's why I believe you were meant to be here. You show up just as I want to become more human. And, Lily, you are the most human person I have ever met."
His voice, his eyes, when he said that — everything about him, really. Mycroft said she'd be in a position to take care of him, and apparently she has succeeded in that task thus far, if this is even what he meant.
And then there was Molly. She had wondered, perhaps too much, about what happened. She still feels bad for asking. But Molly was upset because Sherlock made her say, 'I love you.'
When she met her, when she realized that Molly was jealous, she thought Molly had wanted to change him — and she probably did. But he wouldn't change for her. He changed for Lily.
She wanted him to love her, because she loved him.
And is that not what that was? That fluttering in her chest when Sherlock complimented her, when he said her name? Is that not why she wants to stick by him even when there will almost certainly be danger? Liam's been saying it all along, not that she wanted to believe him. She can't love him. Then he'll leave. Then he'll realize just how irritating she really is.
She can't love him because he'll never love her, and then where will she be? He doesn't love in that way. He cares, but he's not... romantic. They're friends. Why should she ruin a perfectly good friendship with this? With love?
Her oven beeps, now preheated. She puts her cookies inside, goes to clean up her kitchen. She hopes they turn out; she was barely there when she made them. They're brown sugar, the ones Sherlock likes the best. She can't keep them all for herself, she'll have to take some up to Mrs. Hudson and 221B. She barely even spoke to them when they got back. Her mind was too occupied.
All that avoidance and denial, all that teasing about love, just for her to fall right into it. She'll never hear the end of it, if anybody finds out. And she can't. Sherlock will just run away. Maybe he can tolerate her as a friend, but there is no way, even if he wanted, he could (or would) ever date her.
She rests her chin on her hands, closes her eyes. What on earth is she going to do?
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"Did Lily seem... off to you earlier?" John asks, sitting down with a cup of tea. Sherlock is in his chair, Rosie taking a nap on his lap. She missed him a lot, she said.
Sherlock sighs. "Well, John, Moriarty may be back to torture me again, so I would say we're all a little off."
"But you can't be sure."
"Who else would do this?"
"I suppose that's a good point."
Sherlock's eyes drift to the TV, still playing Thomas and Friends quietly. "You're coming to the Holders' tomorrow, aren't you?"
"Rosie has that doctor's appointment."
"What time?"
"8:30."
"We'll go after."
"Did you call ahead and tell them we're coming?"
"No."
"You might want to."
Before Sherlock can wave this off, there's a knock on the door. John gets up to answer it, and Lily is on the other side with a plate of cookies. She notices Rosie sleeping and whispers. "I made some brown sugar cookies. I just wanted to bring them up."
Sherlock hurriedly waves John over with the plate. John shakes his head, grabbing himself one before Sherlock takes two.
"Rosie's been asleep for about an hour now. She usually doesn't nap much longer than that, when she does." He chuckles. "You want some tea?"
Lily shakes her head. "No, I... Well, no, thank you. I've got to work on my book. It's been too long since I've emailed my publisher, and I need ideas to give them. I'm gonna go... work on that." She waves to Sherlock, then heads back downstairs.
John puts the cookies on the counter and sits down with one. "See? Off."
"She told me she wasn't going anywhere," Sherlock says. "Even if we're in danger, she said she wasn't going anywhere. But I know as well as you do, shockingly, that this has her anxious. I need to figure this out. I can't- If something were to happen to her and it was my fault..."
"Somebody hurting her to get you isn't your fault. Not inherently."
"You can tell me that all you want, but it won't make a difference. Maybe we can convince her to leave with Rosie, when we send her somewhere else."
"You're sure we don't need to now?"
"No. No, he's just warming up. The next case we get, if it's him, then she goes." Sherlock looks across at him. "I wouldn't blame you for going with her."
"Sherlock, you know what I'm going to say to that. Besides, she loves her Aunt Harriet. She might get homesick, but it's for her own safety."
"When are you going to tell her?"
"When you say it's time."
He almost wants to say so now, though he knows it isn't necessary. And he did miss her, if he was only gone for a few days. She's going to be so excited when she wakes up and finds those cookies.
Sherlock was excited, too, when Lily walked through the door. John was right, she was "off." This is getting to her, and yet she's staying. Why? And why does it bother him this much? It's not as if he hasn't worried about his friends' safety before, but with Lily it's different somehow. He wishes he knew.
He wishes he knew a lot of things right now. But for now, he's going to try to calm down and take a nap. Nothing much else to do right now, anyway, until Rosie wakes up.