This Is Real

Chapter Twelve

Evelyn had recovered herself quickly after she allowed herself to cry against him, taking Matthew from his chest carefully, telling Sherlock she was going to settle him in his room and she'd be right back so they could talk. He felt empty as he watched her go, his arms uselessly limp at his sides.

He didn't want to talk. He wanted to take Evelyn into his arms again and have her tell him that everything was fine, to hear her murmur that she loved him.

He eventually busied himself with trying to put away what was still salvageable out of the shopping bags he'd left abandoned, and removed his outer layers of coat and suit jacket. Then he collapsed into a chair and... he waited.

Eve always forgave him, but this was different, he'd never put their children's life in such potential direct danger before. She must hate him.

Twenty minutes later Evelyn returned to the living room, and Sherlock could see that she'd been crying again, her eyes puffy and nose red.

Sherlock got to his feet but went no further. He wanted to sink into her, to tangle his limbs with hers until there was no space between them, but Eve's arms clung tightly around her body, giving off a very clear signal that required no deductive skill. The pull of her jumper from the force of how tightly she gripped at it made her bump even more prominent, and Sherlock's eyes were suddenly stinging.

"Matty go down okay?"

She nod, clearing her throat quietly. "Yeah, eventually. He's very unsettled, clung onto me for a while but... he's down, hopefully he wakes up in a couple hours feeling better."

"Evie..."

He heard her sigh, and felt his whole body tense.

"You know, I always thought that something like this could happen," she said, and Sherlock knew there was no going back now. "But I feel like I can be forgiven for not anticipating this. I mean, I knew she was out there somewhere, and you told me you'd been the one to rescue her, but..."

"This should never have been a possibility," Sherlock replied. "I should have made sure of that."

"You didn't even know me then," Evelyn said. "And you can't predict the future, no matter how hard you try. You were being the hero, I understand."

"No one deserves to die the way she was going to, I thought it was a kindness but... but–"

"She meant something to you," Eve said, taking a shaky breath. "I mean, obviously she meant something to you otherwise–"

"It wasn't what you think it was." Sherlock replied, willing her to look at him, properly look at him.

And then she did, her eyes flicking up and conveying all of the hurt that he feared he had inflicted on her. "And what do I think it was, Sherlock?"

"We didn't... I never slept with her. When I told you that before, I wasn't lying, I had never... not until you, I swear–"

"God, Sherlock, I don't– I don't care about that," she said, her fingers fiddling with the rings on her left hand. Don't take them off, don't do this to me, I won't survive it. "I wasn't part of your life, it was years before we were even introduced, I don't care whether or not you ever slept with her, or anyone, I'm really not that petty."

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the motion of her twisting the bands around, over and over. "I know you're not," he said quietly. "Of course you're not, but I want you to know anyway."

"Sherlock, I know you love me, I do," Evelyn continued. "And I honestly wouldn't have cared if there had been some huge thing between you. What would have been an issue for us, going forward, is if you had lied to me about it."