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Chapter Text

It turns out that the British Government actually couldn’t wait. What Mycroft feared would come to pass did so, and the Covid-19 Pandemic swiftly made its mark in history. As Essential Workers, Greg and John both worked with the public and were at a constant risk, John especially so as an A&E doctor. When Anthea fell ill, Mycroft panicked hard. He stayed quarantined in his out of home office, testing every day and living off of takeout and food that Greg, John, or Maddie would deliver outside his office building’s doorstep. Mycroft, thankfully, never fell sick and was finally able to return home to Greg and Elara two weeks later. Mycroft was man enough to admit that he sobbed when he was finally able to hug Greg and Elara- after he had thoroughly bathed and disinfected himself.

Over the next coming weeks, Mycroft and Greg were very careful about how they came and went from the house- Greg more so than Mycroft, as Mycroft was able to work completely from home and now rarely had to leave the house. Elara’s immune system may have recovered formidably, but she was still very susceptible to chest and lung infections, and Maddie’s immune system was wholly shot from her bout with cancer. Greg and Mycroft were taking no chances. Elara was not allowed to go anywhere public, including Baker Street, which devastated the child. They had been regularly video chatting John, Sherlock, Mrs. Hudson, Molly, and Anthea- once she had suitably recovered- so that Elara wouldn’t be so isolated. If Mycroft or Greg had to leave the house, Elara was not to be downstairs or to approach them until they had changed, showered, and disinfected themselves. They tested for the virus every week, checking the temperatures of everyone every morning.

Months passed and their routine was solid. And then John and Sherlock fell victim in early July- John having brought it home from the A&E, despite his meticulous efforts to protect himself and Sherlock. Mycroft was thoroughly panicked, sending doctors to Baker Street and immediately relocating Mrs. Hudson for her safety. Greg himself was in quarantine in the basement, as Anderson had broken the mask mandates and gotten himself ill and then continued to come in to work after he knew he was ill, exposing everyone in the office, Greg included.

That night, after Elara had been put to bed, Mycroft sat in his downstairs office trying- and failing- to not have a panic attack. He let out a shuddery breath as he gripped his hair. A familiar pair of hands gently grasped his, prying his own hands away from his head.

“Don’t do that, darlin’. You’ll hurt yourself,” Mycroft’s head snapped up.

“Gregory? What are you doing?” Mycroft all but yelped as he snatched a mask off his desk and held it to his face.

“Relax, My,” Greg said. “It’s been two weeks now. I tested negative a couple of hours ago and I’ve showered before coming up,”

Mycroft stared at him. Had it actually been two weeks already? He was so concerned about everything that he could hardly think straight. John had finally begun to recover, but Sherlock was still very poorly- no doubt a result of years of poor eating and sleeping habits. Mycroft had spared no expense to ensure their safety and well-being during their bout with this Hell.

“Mycroft!” Mycroft startled badly at Greg’s attempt to get his attention. Greg caught his arms and looked directly in to Mycroft’s eyes, concern and love flooding his warm brown eyes.

“When’s the last time you slept, My? I mean actually slept? And I do not mean an hour here or forty-five minutes there. At least six straight hours uninterrupted,” Mycroft shut his eyes, honestly not remembering. Thoughts were speeding through his mind quicker than he could grasp and catalogue them.

“I- I don’t- I can’t-” Mycroft stuttered out. Greg pulled Mycroft in to his strong, warm arms and held him for a while.

“Did you eat dinner with Elara?” Greg murmured to him. Mycroft nodded. “Alright. Here’s what we’re gonna do: You’re gonna go up and have a wash. I’ll make you a mug of your favorite tea and bring it up. Then, you and I are gonna lay down and cuddle and go to bed, and you’re not gonna wake up until I wake you,” Greg kissed the nape of Mycroft’s neck and Mycroft stuttered out a breath, nodding.

“A-alright, Gregory,” he whispered back.

Greg smiled back at him lovingly before leaning in and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. Greg broke apart from Mycroft, took his hand in his, and led Mycroft upstairs. Greg started the shower for him as Mycroft stared at himself in the mirror. There were pronounced dark circles under his eyes, his usually crisp attire hung wrinkled around his frame, highlighting the bit of weight he had lost. Mycroft winced. No wonder Greg had reacted so strongly. Greg wrapped his arms around Mycroft from behind, kissing Mycroft’s temple.

“Hop in, My. Take your time. I’ll be back up in a bit with your tea,” Greg kissed him again and headed back downstairs.

Mycroft wanted to take his time in the shower, but he was exhausted to the bone and the tempting pull of his favorite peppermint tea and Greg’s arms in their warm bed was too tempting for him and he only spent about ten minutes in the shower before turning off the water and stepping out. Greg had also taken it upon himself to set out Mycroft’s most comfortable pyjamas and Greg’s old, worn hoodie that he knew Mycroft wore when he was stressed or upset or just needed comfort when Greg wasn’t there. Mycroft felt his throat tighten as he dressed himself. God, Mycroft had no idea what he had done in this life to deserve Greg. Mycroft padded in to the bedroom where Greg was sitting on the bed with his legs crossed, holding two mugs of tea. He grinned softly when he saw Mycroft.

“C’mere, My,” Greg said, setting the mugs down on Mycroft’s nightstand and held his arms out for Mycroft, who immediately melted in to the embrace.

Greg managed to wiggle to Mycroft’s side of the bed so that they could both reach their mugs of tea. They sat there for the longest time in a comfortable silence sipping their tea. Mycroft slowly felt the stress and tension begin to ease. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Greg. His Greg.

“I love you, Gregory,” Mycroft mumbled in to the man’s chest. Greg’s arms tightened minutely around him.

“I love you too, My,” Greg said, voice rumbling in his chest in a delicious way that Mycroft would have been all over if he wasn’t so tired. Greg leaned over and clicked off the bedside lamp before pulling Mycroft deeper down in to the blankets.

“Sleep now, My,” Greg said in a low tone, his arms still wrapped around his fiancé. “Don’t worry about anything right now. John is on the mend and Sherlock is stable. Elara is asleep, I am healthy, and Anderson is still a fucking idiot,” Mycroft couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at that last bit.

“Right now, everything is alright in our world, darlin',” Greg said, kissing Mycroft’s head. “Sleep now. We’ll tackle the world tomorrow like we’ve tackled everything else,” Mycroft glanced up at him, squinting to see Greg’s gentle smile as his eyes adjusted to the dark. Greg slipped his hand in to Mycroft’s before answering.

“Together,”

Chapter Text

Greg woke early the next morning around 7:30 AM. Mycroft was still deep in the thralls of sleep. Greg eased his way out of Mycroft’s loose hold, brushing his lips on Mycroft’s hair before heading to the loo. After finishing his business, Greg washed up and threw on another one of his hoodies over his night shirt before heading to Elara’s bedroom. He smiled at the sight of Elara sleeping soundly, curled up in to a little ball underneath of her covers. He walked over to her and knelt down beside her, reaching out a hand to gently brush his fingers across her cheek. She stirred slightly for a moment before sleepily opening her eyes. All signs of sleep were suddenly wiped away when she realized who it was waking her up.

“Papa!” Elara called out softly before Greg found himself with his arms full of the child. He hugged her back tightly and placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Good morning, sunshine! It’s so nice to be able to hug you again,” Greg said, standing with her in his arms, wincing at the ache in his knees.

“Did you leave daddy to sleep?” She asked him, resting her head gently on his shoulder as they made their way downstairs. Greg nodded.

“Yeah, I did,” he told her as they entered the kitchen. He placed her on the kitchen counter as he readied her vitamins. “He looked like he needed the sleep,” Elara nodded seriously.

“He’s worried that Uncle ‘Lock and Uncle John are sick,” she told him. Greg nodded, handing her the gummy vitamins that she downed without hesitation.

“Yeah. We’ll give them a video call later and check in on them. How’s that sound?” Elara smiled and nodded. “In the mean time, you and I have a mission,” Elara furrowed her eyebrows.

“A mission?” She asked. Greg nodded.

“Oh, yes,” he said. “I think your daddy would really appreciate a nice breakfast in bed. What do you think?”

Elara and Greg had made quite the spread. So much so that Greg worried that they might not be able to fit everything on the tray. There was a massive plate of toast, a large egg scramble- loaded with cheese and veggies of course-, a fruit bowl, bacon, sausage, and even a plate of waffles. Elara giggled as Greg tried- and failed- to fit everything on the carry tray. Greg let out a breath and hung his head in defeat.

“Well, sunshine, we may have gone a bit overboard, I’m afraid,” Elara bit her lip in an attempt to stop smiling.

“No breakfast in bed, then?” Greg let out a breath.

“Well, I mean, it’s the thought that counts, right?” Greg asked her.

“Indeed it is,” Mycroft's voice from behind them startled the both of them. They turned around to see Mycroft in his casual- well, casual for Mycroft- attire, fatigue now gone and replaced with a soft grin. Elara hopped down from the chair she had been standing on to reach the counters and rushed to hug Mycroft. Greg grinned gently at the sight.

“You’re still supposed to be asleep in bed,” Greg said, approaching them and wrapping his arms around his family. Mycroft rested his head on Greg’s shoulder, smiling when Greg placed a loving kiss on his temple.

“Well, I woke up to use the restroom and you were gone,” Mycroft said. “I went to check on Elara and saw she was no longer in bed as well and decided to get ready for the day and see what debauchery you both were getting up to down here,”

“Just breakfast, daddy!” Elara said happily, pulling Mycroft and Greg each by the hand towards the table.

Greg and Mycroft chuckled at her antics, both taking a seat on either side of her as she climbed up in to her seat. Just as they tucked in to their breakfast, Mycroft’s mobile buzzed. He sighed, pulling the device from his pocket. His eyes widened slightly before he quickly answered.

“John, what’s happened? What’s wrong?” Mycroft said, an edge of panic to his voice.

“Do relax, brother mine,” Sherlock’s congested, hoarse voice sounded from the other end. “One might think you cared,” Mycroft let out a breath that he hadn’t know he was holding

“Sherlock,” he breathed out. “You appear to be doing better. Where is John?”

“Hmm, not sure-”

“Sherlock! What are you doing!?” There was a short scuffle and muffled shouting- Mycroft winced and held the phone slightly from his ear as Greg and Elara tried to hide their amusement- before John’s winded voice appeared on the other end of the phone.

“Mycroft,” John panted heavily. “Sorry, Mycroft. Had- had to- use the loo. Left him- for only- a moment,”

“John, please take a moment and breathe. Catch your breath,” Mycroft said. John took several deep breaths- interrupted by coughs. Once John had caught his breath, Mycroft continued.

“Are you both otherwise alright?”

“Yeah. I’m beginning to finally hack up the crap that’s been in my lungs. ‘Lock’s fever finally broke early this morning and the pneumonia is clearing up. I’ve been having problems with- for Christ’s sake, Sherlock lay back down or I will sedate you- with keeping him bloody still,” John growled. Greg snickered.

“Put him on speaker, yeah?” Greg asked. Mycroft did as he asked, placing the device in front of him on the table.

“John, you’re on speaker now,” Mycroft warned him.

“Hey, John. You alright, mate?”

“Sherlock, I swear to god-” There was another scuffle on the other line.

“Well, guess that answers my question,” Greg said with a grin. “Sherlock Holmes!” Elara startled slightly, looking to Greg in alarm. The scuffling on the phone ceased immediately.

“You’re on speaker, mate. Have fun,” John’s amused voice said.

“Sherlock, you listen to me and you listen well,” Greg said in a stern voice. “If you want a case between now and next year, you’d better listen to everything John says,” Sherlock scoffed on the other line.

“Oh, please, Graham, have we really stooped to bluffing?” Greg cocked an eyebrow and leaned forward.

“Oh? And pray tell me why you believe I’m bluffing, Sherlock, because I’ll have you know that I am not,”

“And just who will solve your cases, Geoff?”

“It is Greg and you very well know that,” Greg said. “Besides, the criminal class has been rather quiet since the pandemic started,”

“And to answer your query, I will solve them for Gregory should the need arise,” Mycroft said smugly.

“You- you wouldn’t-” Sherlock said in between coughs.

“Well, listen to John and you won’t have to find out, now, will you?” Greg said. “Look, I’ll drop some cold cases by in a couple of days, alright? But you have got to rest and listen to John. Do you understand, Sherlock?”

“I’m not a child,” Sherlock muttered.

“Then stop acting like one,” Greg said. “Set a good example for Elara,”

“Hi, Uncle ‘Lock, Uncle John,” Elara said with a grin.

“Hello, little bee,” Sherlock said.

“Good morning, darling! Lovely to hear you,”

“Right, Sherlock, will you listen to John?” Greg asked. Sherlock sighed.

“Fine. But the cold cases better be eights, George,” Greg snorted and rolled his eyes as there was a shuffling on the other end of the line.

“Ta, Greg. I appreciate it,” John’s tired but relieved voice said.

“No problem, John. I’ll drop those files ‘round in a couple of days. I’m back at the office tomorrow, so that’s the earliest I can get them to you,” Greg said.

“Whenever you are able, Greg, I really appreciate it. I’m happy Anderson didn’t get you ill. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone,”

“Do let us know if either of you require anything. I also did promise Mrs. Hudson that you both would ring her when you both were more well,” Mycroft said. John chuckled softly.

“Will do, Mycroft, thank you. I’ll give her a ring around lunchtime,”

“We’ll leave you to rest, then,” Mycroft said.

“Thanks. We’ll video call later so that we can chat with Elara some,” Elara grinned and clapped her hands. John chuckled. “Right. Eat your breakfast darling. We’ll see you later. Love you all, and give our love to Anthea and Maddie,” they all bid their goodbyes and Mycroft hung up, pocketing the device. He looked up to Greg.

“Do you really think Sherlock will do as you told him?” Greg burst out laughing.

“Christ, no,” Greg said. “But it’s fun to try. Especially when John and I have side bets as to how long Sherlock’ll last with threats,”

Chapter Text

John and Sherlock soon recovered fully from their bout with Covid. Several months passed, and December was soon upon them. Mycroft was called to an emergency conference call late that morning and was still holed up in his office near dinnertime. Greg had the day off and was looking over Elara’s schoolwork. Mycroft and Greg had agreed to home-school the child shortly after she had been removed from Cathal and Mallory Finnegan’s custody. Elara, now eleven years old, was a very bright child and was far beyond the classwork of other children her age. He was just going over her maths work when Mycroft suddenly rushed in to the kitchen. Greg immediately put the papers aside and sat forward.

“My? What is it? What’s happened?” Greg asked.

“They’ve done it,” Mycroft said. Greg furrowed his eyebrows.

“Done what?” Greg asked.

“They’ve found a vaccine. We’ve just approved it to be pushed out en masse to the public within the next couple of weeks. The first people who will be eligible to receive the vaccine will be public health and social workers and their immediate families, followed by citizens eighty years of age or older, then followed by those fifty years of age or older as well as the immunocompromised. Afterwards, it will be eligible to the rest of the populous,” Greg grinned and stood up, pulling Mycroft in to his arms.

“That’s bloody brilliant, My,” Greg said. “So, Molly, John, and Sherlock, then Mrs. Hudson, then me and Elara?” Mycroft hesitated. Greg raised an eyebrow.

“We are all to be vaccinated tomorrow,” Mycroft said. “Since I hold a minor position in the British government-” Greg snorted. Mycroft ignored him.

“I am eligible to be amongst the first to be vaccinated, along with you, Elara, and Maddie, since we all reside together. I also requested that Sherlock, John, Molly, and Mrs. Hudson be vaccinated immediately as well,” Greg let out a breath.

“This is still far from over, isn’t it?” Greg asked, resting his head on Mycroft’s shoulder. Mycroft rested his cheek on top of Greg’s head.

“I’m afraid so, Gregory,” he said. “We will still need to be very cautious. I will still ask that we remain masked in the mean time just to be on the safe side,” Greg nodded.

“I agree. Until most of the population is vaccinated, Elara and Maddie are still at risk,” Mycroft nodded.

“Precisely. We will need to be at my office tomorrow morning at 10:00 AM. Arrangements have already been made with your superiors,”

“Will it be safe for Elara and Maddie to go?” Greg asked worriedly. Mycroft nodded.

“Of course. Every safety precaution has been taken. All people within the building have been vaccinated, proper PPE shall be worn at all times, and we are all still maintaining the appropriate daily health screenings for the time being,” Mycroft replied, running his hand soothingly through Greg’s hair and kissing his head. “Where is Elara now?”

“I think she’s gone to the music room,” Greg said as he pulled away from Mycroft’s arms slightly and kissed him properly. “How about you go and get her? Dinner’s nearly done, the manacotti is resting atop the oven, so I’m just waiting for the bread to finish baking whilst I prepare the salad,”

Mycroft kissed Greg once more before going to retrieve their daughter. As he approached the music room, he could hear the gorgeous piano music that was being played. Mycroft peered in to the room and saw Elara playing from memory, her eyes were shut as she let the music flow through her. Not wanting to startle nor interrupt her, Mycroft leaned against the door frame and watched as she played through the rest of the piece. She stopped abruptly, opened her eyes and reached for a pencil and made notes on a sheet of paper.

“Composing, little one?” Elara jumped ever so slightly at Mycroft’s question. She turned and smiled at him.

“Oh! Hi. Sorry. I didn’t hear you,” Elara slid off the bench and hurried to hug Mycroft, who knelt down so she could hug him better. “Was composing a bit, yeah,”

“It sounded beautiful, darling, truly. I cannot wait until it is finished and we can hear it in its entirety,” Mycroft said, placing a kiss atop her head. “Well, I apologize if I interrupted your flow, but your papa has dinner nearly ready if you have reached a stopping point,” Elara nodded and Mycroft wrapped an arm around her shoulder and they walked to dinner together.

The next morning saw them all outside Mycroft’s office at 10:00 AM sharp. They were met at the door by a masked Anthea.

“Auntie ‘Thea!” Elara said excitedly.

“Oh, my love, it’s so lovely to see you!” Anthea said, pulling Elara in to a quick hug. Anthea had been vaccinated the day before and had passed all the health screenings. She straightened up and led the three of them inside. “Straight through to the medical ward. You’ll each be tested for Covid first and have your temperatures taken before you can receive the vaccine,”

Elara winced and gripped Greg’s hand tighter. Elara had to be tested for Covid three times before and she was not fond of the experience. The first time a doctor had tested her- the day Anthea had fallen sick- he had been so rough with the test stick that her nose had bled and he then proceeded to berate the girl when she began to cry. Greg had to physically force the man to leave before John had to come over and test them himself. Greg squeezed her hand back and smiled down at her.

“It’ll be alright, sunshine. I promise you that this doctor will be very gentle,” he told her as they entered the medical room, where Doctor John Watson stood, clad in PPE and holding a no-contact thermometer.

“Uncle John!” Elara yelled and sped to John, who caught her in his arms.

“Hello, darling. Oh, it’s so wonderful to see you in person,” he said as he released Elara and turned to Greg and Mycroft, entering his clinical mode. “I’ll be the one completing your health checks, testing you for the Covid-19 virus, as well as administering the vaccines should you all meet the proper criteria for it. After you’ve each received the vaccine, you’ll need to stay under observation for about fifteen minutes for any adverse reactions, then you all are free to go. Any questions?”

“Not at this time, John,” Mycroft said, running his hand through Elara’s hair.

“Alright, then. Who’s up first?” John asked. Sensing Elara’s fear, Greg stepped up after squeezing her hand once more.

“I’ll go first. Show Elara how it’s done, yeah?” Greg said, his eyes crinkling as he smiled behind his mask.

John made quick work of checking Greg’s temperature and administering the swab test, and setting it aside. John washed his hands and changed his gloves before turning to Elara.

“Ready, darling?” Elara bit her lip, glancing up to Mycroft.

“It will be alright, Elara, I promise,” Mycroft told her. Elara took a deep breath and stepped forward. John smiled and scanned her forehead.

“There’s our brave girl. I’ll be as gentle as possible, Elara, I promise,”

True to his word, John was as gentle as possible with Elara- as he always was- and he was soon finished, sending Elara to wait with Greg across the room as he washed up and changed his gloves once more before addressing Mycroft. Once Mycroft was done, John checked Greg’s test.

“Negative for Covid, Greg. Chose an arm and I’ll get you sorted,” John said. Greg removed his coat and rolled up his left sleeve, presenting it to John. John swabbed his arm with an alcohol prep pad. “Alright, mate, quick pinch,”

“All done?” Greg asked a few seconds later. John nodded.

“All done. Elara, you’re next, darling,” John checked her test and found it negative as well. Elara gave him her left arm and John quickly administered the vaccine, repeating the steps for Mycroft when his test came back negative as well.

“Alright, let’s step through here and wait the required time, then we’re all free to go,” John said, opening the door to a waiting area, revealing Maddie, Molly, Sherlock, and Mrs. Hudson. Elara gasped happily before running in to the room and hugging them all.

“Hello, bee,” Sherlock said as he tightly hugged Elara.

“Oh, look at how you’ve grown, sweetheart! It’s so wonderful to see you again,” Molly said brightly as she hugged Elara.

“My goodness, you have grown, dear,” Mrs. Hudson said as she cupped Elara’s face in her hands before hugging her and looking up to Mycroft and Greg. “What on Earth have you been feeding her?”

“Only the best for my girl,” Greg said as he scooped Elara up and spun her around before releasing her again.

“Well, now that everyone is here, Gregory and I have an announcement to make,” Mycroft said.

“Oh, are you getting another child?” Mrs. Hudson asked happily. Shock registered on Mycroft’s face for half a second as Elara giggled quietly in to Sherlock’s Belstaff.

“Ah, no, Mrs. Hudson, I’m afraid not,” Greg supplied whilst also trying to stifle his chuckling.

“Gregory and I would like for all of you to join us in my personal office, where Gregory and I have agreed that we will be married today,” Mycroft said. The room burst out with applause and congratulations.

“What about a honeymoon?” Mrs. Hudson asked as they were all led to Mycroft’s office.

“Well, we definitely won’t be going any time soon, not with the pandemic still raging most places,” Greg said. “But we’ll probably just sit back and bide our time for a bit. We’ll get one in eventually,”

Greg and Mycroft quickly changed in to their chosen suits- which Anthea had ready for them both- and they met Lady Smallwood in Mycroft’s office. She looked up at them both and smiled warmly at them.

“Gentlemen. Are we ready?” Greg looked to Mycroft and smiled.

“Oh, God, yes,”

Chapter Text

Three Years and Eight Months Later

Fourteen-year-old Elara Holmes-Lestrade zipped up her suitcase and made a last visual sweep over her bedroom to ensure that she had everything she would need for a two-week stay at Baker Street. In the aftermath of the pandemic, Mycroft’s work life had been extremely hectic. Combine that with the fear of travelling, Mycroft and Greg had yet to go on their honeymoon. Lady Smallwood had finally stepped in and Mycroft suddenly had three weeks off. Oddly, Greg’s superiors had also made him use some of his PTO at exactly the same time, but Mycroft could not prove that Lady Smallwood had a hand in that as well. They had decided to go to Costa Rica, also taking the time to spend a few days on the Galápagos Islands. A light knock at her door caused her to glance up and see her papa smiling over at her.

“Hey, sunshine. You all ready to go?” Elara smiled and nodded.

“I think so, yeah,” she said picking up her suitcase- which Greg immediately took from her. “Plus, even if I did forget anything it’s not like we couldn’t stop by and grab it,”

“Very true,” Greg said as they made their way down the stairs. “This feels a bit light for a two-week stay,”

“Well, they’ve got that other bedroom set up for me and I’ve already got some things there, so I didn’t need to pack as much,” Elara said as they walked in to the living room where Mycroft was sending some last minute emails on his laptop. He glanced up at them and shut his laptop before standing to greet them. Elara wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Have you everything you need?” Mycroft asked her. Elara nodded.

“Just need my vitamins from the kitchen,” Greg immediately turned to retrieve them.

“Here you go,” he said, tossing them to her. She caught them easily. “Knew I was forgetting to get something for you,” Elara snickered as she slipped the bottle in to her backpack. A knock at the door interrupted them and Greg opened the door to reveal John.

“Uncle John!” Elara said as she ran to hug him.

“Oh, hey there, darling! All ready to go?” John said. Elara nodded before turning to her parents.

“You’ll behave for your uncles, yes?” Mycroft asked her as she hugged him. Elara rolled her eyes.

“When am I not well-behaved?” She asked him with an eyebrow raised.

“I think he means maybe keeping the sarcastic flow that you’ve inherited from your Uncle Sherlock at a minimum,” Greg said with a grin as he took his turn in hugging her. “Lord knows the poor man deals with enough of it from Sherlock. He doesn’t need the both of you ganging up on him,”

“Oh, Uncle John can hold his own, I promise you that, papa,” Elara told him seriously. John snorted.

“Of course I can now,” he said with a grin. “No way was I going to let you and Sherlock both gang up on me without at least attempting to hold my own,” Elara giggled and Greg handed off her suitcase to John.

“Right, well, we best be off. Sherlock’s going to meet us at Angelo’s,” John said, smiling at how Elara lit up at this. Elara turned to her fathers and engulfed the both of them in a hug.

“Be careful,” she told them both, kissing each of them on the cheek. “Have fun, hold a turtle for me, and take lots of photos,” Greg chuckled, kissing her temple.

“You know we will, sunshine,”

“We love you, Elara. Be careful, and we will see you in two weeks for your birthday,” Mycroft said, kissing her cheek. John bid them goodbye and he left with Elara in the waiting cab.

“So, we’ve got you for two weeks,” John said. “Anything you’d like to-” John’s mobile chose that moment to ring. John smiled apologetically and answered.

“Sherlock? What’s up?” John said. He furrowed his eyebrows. “I mean, I’ve got Elara here with me but-” John sighed and looked to Elara.

“Dimmock called and Sherlock’s taken a case. Shouldn’t be anything too risky. Would you want to tag along?” Elara perked up and nodded enthusiastically. She’d been dying to work a case with her uncles for ages now.

“Alright. We need to drop off her stuff at Baker Street first and then we’ll head right over. Text me the address, yeah? Alright. Be careful and try not to piss anyone off too badly before we get there. I love you. Bye, ‘Lock,” John hung up and looked to Elara.

“Guess we’re working a case, then,” he said. Elara smiled excitedly.

“I have rules for you, though, Elara, and I am deadly serious about you following them,” John said seriously. Elara nodded. “Alright. I seriously doubt that Sherlock would ever do anything to purposefully endanger you, but he does tend to get caught up in the case. So, if Sherlock begins to run off, you stay with me or do exactly as I tell you depending on the situation,” Elara nodded.

“Secondly, you are not to wander off on your own. You need to stay with Sherlock or me at all times,” Elara nodded again. “Thirdly, in the extremely rare chance that we end up in a dangerous situation, you save yourself. Do not try and be a hero, Elara. You get yourself out. Do you understand me?” Elara nodded.

“I understand, Uncle John,” Elara said. John nodded and pulled her to his side.

“Good. I don’t think it will come to that, but you have to be prepared when working with Sherlock Holmes,” John said. Elara grinned madly, having read all of John’s blog.

They made quick work of dropping Elara’s luggage off at Baker Street before hurrying to the crime scene. John wrapped an arm around Elara’s shoulders and led her through the mass of officers and they ducked under the crime scene tape and headed towards Sherlock.

“Woah, stop there,” a woman stopped them and John let out a sigh.

“Yes, Donovan?” John said. The woman- Donovan- nodded towards Elara.

“Who’s this?” She said, raising an eyebrow.

“This is-” John began but was cut off.

“My protege and she’s with us to observe,” Sherlock said as he suddenly appeared next to Elara and placed his hand on her shoulder.

“She can’t be here, freak,” Elara felt a hot surge of anger coarse through her at the jibe, but Sherlock paid it no mind.

“She has permission from Lestrade, and Dimmock is aware of the arrangement. Your opinion on the matter is of no concern of mine. Good day, Donovan,” Sherlock said as he led John and Elara towards the heart of the scene. “Pay her no mind, bee. She’s all bark, no bite,” Elara looked up to him.

“Is it because she’s having an affair with a married man who won’t leave his wife to be with her?” Elara said. John choked on nothing.

“I- How could you possibly know that!?” John exclaimed. Elara smirked.

“Elementary, dear Watson,” she said. Sherlock snorted.

“Protege, indeed,” he said with a grin.

Elara watched intently as John examined the body, audibly notating his findings to Sherlock. Elara was immersed in everything, she was watching Sherlock dance around as he fired off deductions that she herself had made as well. Just as Sherlock was asking John what he thought, a large hand grasped her upper arm tightly and yanked her backwards. Elara let out a shriek, momentarily forgetting where she was as memories she long wanted to forget surfaced to the forefront of her mind. Just as quickly as the hand had grabbed her, it was gone and Elara collapsed to the ground and scurried backwards until her back hit a wall, breathing heavily. The first thing Elara was aware of was the calming voice of her Uncle John.

“Elara, look at me, darling, look at me. You are safe. You’re alright. You’re here in London with me and Sherlock,” Elara made eye contact with John and released a shuddery breath, reaching for John’s outstretched hand and giving it a weak squeeze. “There you are, darling. It’s alright now,”

The second thing Elara was aware of was the snarling of her Uncle Sherlock in the face of the man who must have been the one to grab her.

“If you ever touch her again, you’ll find yourself out of a job and the country before you can comprehend what has happened. Do you understand me, Anderson?”

“Let go of me, freak!” The man snarled at Sherlock. Again, that surge of anger flared within her, and Elara struggled to her feet.

“Don’t call him that!” She snapped at the man- Anderson, Sherlock had called him- as John quietly tried to urge Sherlock to release him. Anderson scoffed and finally freed himself from Sherlock’s grasp.

“And who are you to tell me what to do, girl,” Anderson sneered and Elara flinched slightly at the word. She, however, didn’t let it phase her.

“Oh, please,” she sneered back. “I’ve seen more threatening foes in children’s puppet shows,” she watched as Sherlock’s lips briefly quirked up in amusement. Anderson sputtered.

“You can’t bloody talk to me that way. Who the Hell do you think you are, walking in here large as bloody life, acting like Freak Jr.,” he seethed. Elara quirked an eyebrow.

“Please, keep talking,” she said in a deadpan. “I’m diagnosing you,”

“You insolent little-”

“Anderson!” Elara flinched at another voice and Dimmock appeared looking angry. “What the Hell are you doing, Anderson?”

“Sir, Watson and the Freak brought a child on to a scene-”

“A child that you just bloody assaulted,” John seethed. Dimmock- who was the only person in the Yard that knew of Greg’s marital status and that Elara was his child- whirled on Anderson.

“You did what?” He hissed at Anderson.

“I did no such thing,” Anderson said, though he paled slightly. “I just needed her out of the way so I could question as to why she was present-”

“Not your job, Anderson,” Dimmock spat. “You were told that she had special permission from Lestrade, and myself, to be present and you chose to ignore that in favor of acting like a child,” he turned to John and Elara, his face softening.

“You said he assaulted her? Are you alright?” Dimmock asked.

“Your arm, Elara, please,” John said as he rolled up her long sleeve revealing a handprint mark wrapping around her bicep where Anderson had grabbed her. Danger flashed in Dimmock’s eyes and he rounded on Anderson.

“Go home. Leave. You are done with this case and you should damn well know that this will be going in the report. Get out of my bloody sight,” Dimmock told him. Anderson turned and levelled a dangerous glare at Elara.

“Is that your battle stance, or are you mimicking a scarecrow?” She said, unimpressed. If looks could kill, Elara would have been smote down where she stood, based on the glare Anderson was giving her.

The third thing that Elara was aware of was how deathly pale Donovan had turned. Elara also noticed how Anderson turned and glanced at Donovan, who then let out a near imperceptible gasp and seemed to just barely curl in on herself. Elara flinched violently when something cold was placed on her arm.

“Christ, I’m sorry, Elara, I thought you heard me,” John said, holding his hands- one of which was holding an ice pack- out so they were visible. Elara watched Donovan walk off to the other side of the scene. Elara let out a shuddery breath and gave a weak smile to John.

“It’s alright. I’m alright,” she said. John pursed his lips and placed the ice pack back on her arm.

“You’re shaking,” John pointed out. Elara gently pulled her hands out of John’s.

“I’m fine,” Elara said. Sherlock approached them.

“I’ve told Dimmock our findings. We can go home,” Sherlock said, his eyes razing over the mark on Elara’s arm. Elara shuddered at the deadly anger in his eyes, resolving to never be on the other side of that glare.

“I am not angry at you, bee,” Sherlock said in a soft tone, hugging her gently to his side as a cab pulled up. “Never at you, Elara,”

Chapter Text

Later that evening, the three of them were sat at Angelo’s. Elara had a plate full of her favorite seafood risotto in front of her, but she wasn’t eating it with her usual gusto. She was thinking hard at what she had witnessed with Anderson and Donovan at the crime scene earlier that day and all the puzzle pieces were coming together.

“Elara,” she flinched hard when he placed his hand atop hers. John winced and immediately removed his hand. “I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to startle you. I just- Are you alright?” Elara glanced up at her uncles. John was looking at her in concern, whereas Sherlock was looking at her like he was solving his own puzzle. Knowing neither man would let it go, Elara hit the nail on the head.

“Is Sergeant Donovan safe?” John furrowed his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” John asked. Elara let out a breath and put down her fork.

“Well, it’s obvious that it’s Anderson that she’s having the affair with,” Elara said. Sherlock grinned.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” John asked.

“Anderson grabbed me with a practiced hand,” she said quietly as her fingers ghosted where his grip branded her arm. “I know that grip. It’s not difficult to master, but it is easy once you’ve done it a few times. And he knew exactly where to grab and how to grab. An area that won’t be seen as easily. He gripped and twisted to maximize the pain,”

“Elara,” John’s voice broke her from spiraling further. She glanced up at the both of them.

“And then there was Sergeant Donovan’s reaction,” she said. John’s eyes furrowed.

“She didn’t react, though. Did she?” John asked. Elara quirked an eyebrow as she inclined her head in a very Mycroft-like way.

“She was frightened,” Elara said. “She turned very pale. Her breath rate quickened. And, when Anderson turned his glare on her, her breath caught and she cringed. It was hardly a cringe, but it was there all the same,” John let out a breath.

“You think Anderson is hurting her?” John asked.

“I don’t think. I know,” Elara said. “She needs help, Uncle John,”

“She won’t accept help,” Sherlock said, his hands steepled under his chin, deep in thought. “Not from me. How did I not notice....”

“She hides it very well,” Elara said. “I just know exactly what to look for because I was her not too long ago,”

“Alright. So, the real question is: How do we help her if she won’t accept help from us?” John asked. “Should we wait for Greg to come back and let him know-?”

“No,” Elara said immediately. “This can’t wait that long. I’m not positive how aggressive Anderson usually is on crime scenes with you guys present, but today seemed excessive,”

“There have been times that I’ve needed to put myself in between Sherlock and Anderson to prevent scuffles,” John said, “but I’ve never seen him put his hands on anyone before. Verbal abuse was more his MO. At least I though it was until today,”

“He gets more brazen when Greg is not present,” Sherlock said.

“That makes sense,” Elara said. John furrowed his eyebrows.

“How so?” Elara picked up her fork and twirled it around in her hands.

“Well, Anderson is bigger than Dimmock,” she said. “Not by much, but he is bigger. Papa is much bigger than him. He knows not to start too much trouble when papa is present because he knows that, as his direct supervisor, papa can not only throw the book at him, but he could also handle Anderson physically,”

“I’m much smaller than Anderson,” John said. “He’s never really physical when I am around,”

“He knows your background,” Sherlock said and Elara nodded.

“He knows you were a captain in the army,” Elara supplied. “He’s seen you take down suspects before. He knows that you are a threat to him, so he wouldn't dare try anything with you present. Today was an error in his judgement, as he may not have been aware that I was with the both of you,” John let out a breath and looked to Sherlock.

“What’s the plan, ‘Lock?”

“I think Elara would be the best person to ask on this one, John,” Sherlock responded, his gaze flickering towards his niece.

“I need to get in good with Sergeant Donovan,” she said. “I need her to trust me,”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming here,” John said with a sigh.

“I need to aggravate Anderson,”

“No,” John said firmly. “Absolutely bloody not,”

“I can aggravate him,” Sherlock said. Elara sighed.

“I have to be a part of it at least,” she said. John began opening and closing his left hand.

“I don’t like this,” he said. Elara snapped her head to him.

“I’ll not allow someone else to live in fear like that,” she growled out to him. “Not when I can do something about it. It took the British Government himself to take down my birth parents. It won’t take that for this lowlife,” John let out a breath.

“I know. Christ, I know,” John said before sighing. He squared his shoulders and looked to Elara. “Alright. Let’s do it your way, then. But, if Sherlock or I think that you are in danger in any way, shape, or form, then you’re getting sidelined, understood?” Elara nodded.

“I understand. I know what to look out for. I’ll be careful, I promise,” she said. John nodded.

“Good. Now, eat your dinner,” John glanced at Sherlock and smirked. “The game is on,”

They all finished their dinner- and the tiramisu that Angelo supplied- and returned to Baker Street. Elara spent some time with her Nan, the woman showing her the latest stitch she had mastered and showing Elara how to do it before she returned upstairs to get ready for bed. Elara slept fitfully for a few hours before bolting upright in bed, breathing heavily from a nightmare- the ghosts of her past coming back to haunt her. With shaking hands, she grabbed her dressing gown and went downstairs, hoping that one of her uncles were up. Sure enough, John was huddled at the kitchen table over a mug of tea, one hand pinching his eyes. Elara made to move in to his line of sight, but a floorboard creaked. John whipped around to a standing position, shoulders squared and fists balled up. Elara held her hands up, backing away a step. John immediately deflated.

“Christ, Elara, I’m sorry,” he whispered out, holding a hand out to her. “I’m assuming I’m not the only one having a difficult night?” Elara let out a shuddery breath and clasped his hand. John pulled her in to a warm hug, rubbing her back.

“It’s alright, darling. They’re gone. You are safe. There’s nobody in this flat that will let anyone hurt you,” John murmured stroking her hair as she sobbed quietly. Elara wasn’t sure how long they stood there, her crying as John soothed her. Eventually, another set of arms wrapped around the both of them.

“Let’s get you both to the couch,” Sherlock’s voice rumbled in his chest as he began to guide the both of them to the front room. He sat the both of them down on the couch before returning to the kitchen, where John and Elara could hear him bustling around.

“Is- Is he try- trying to- to cook?” Elara asked through hiccups. John let out a breath.

“For our sakes, I bloody well hope not,” he responded. Elara let out a wet chuckle. Sherlock soon appeared with a tray of mugs. One of which was piled with whipped cream and marshmallows that he handed to Elara. The other two mugs appeared to be tea.

“I do hope these are safe to drink?” John asked him, a smile playing on his lips. Sherlock scoffed.

“Please, John, I obtained the mugs from the ‘Drinking Mugs ONLY’ cabinet, I assure you,” Sherlock said, sipping from his own mug.

Elara snickered and took a tentative sip from her mug, immediately sighing in content as some of the tension she had been holding in her shoulders eased up a bit. Once they all had finished their drinks, Sherlock guided Elara to lay down with her head in John’s lap and covered her with his favorite afghan that Mrs. Hudson had made for him. John began to card his fingers through her hair as Sherlock resined his bow and began to play a slow, sweet lullaby. As Elara listened, she also felt the tension she hadn’t known her uncle John to be holding release as well. His breathing slowed down and the rhythmic motions of his hands in her hair combined with the quiet violin music quickly allowed Elara to drop off in to a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

Elara woke the next morning to the smell of bacon and eggs as well as the smell of one of her favorite Nanny Hudson confections: Apple Cinnamon Muffins. Elara sat up, wincing slightly at the stiffness in her neck and right shoulder from sleeping on the sofa. She carefully stretched out her neck and rolled her shoulder.

“You too, eh?” John’s voice came from her left. She looked up and saw her uncle stretching out his own shoulder, wincing. Elara nodded and stood up.

“Yeah,” she said. “Think it’s going to storm today,” John nodded.

“I think you’re right,” he said.

“Yoo-hoo,” Mrs. Hudson popped her head out in to the front room. “Breakfast is ready, loves. I’ve made Elara’s favorite as well,” Elara smiled and hugged her Nan.

“It smells lovely. Thank you, Nanny,” Mrs. Hudson returned the hug, running her gnarled fingers through Elara’s hair.

“Oh, you’re welcome, love,” she said, placing a kiss on Elara’s cheek before returning to the kitchen.

Elara stopped by the loo before popping upstairs to change and run a brush through her hair and pull it back in to a braided plait. She pulled on her trainers and hurried downstairs, joining her uncles in the kitchen to eat. John pushed a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast towards her as Sherlock placed a muffin on a napkin next to her.

“Eat up,” John said, placing a glass of orange juice in front of her as well. “Dimmock’s got another case for us,” they all made quick work of breakfast and caught a cab to the scene.

“Remember what I said last night,” John murmured in her ear as they approached the tape.

Elara nodded, noticing Sergeant Donovan glancing over at them out of the corner of her eye. They all approached the tape and Sherlock held it up for the three of them as they ducked underneath. Dimmock approached Sherlock and John and gestured to where the body was. Elara hung back a bit, waiting. She didn’t have to wait long.

“You alright?” Sergeant Donovan’s voice was softer than it had been yesterday. Elara glanced over at her. Donovan’s eyes were full of concern and- if Elara wasn’t mistaken- a slimmer of guilt. Elara gave the woman a tight smile and nodded slightly.

“Yeah. I’m alright,” she said.

“You’re sure?” Sergeant Donovan asked hesitantly. Elara gave a more relaxed smile.

“I’m positive. Thank you, Sergeant Donovan,” she replied. There was a few moments of silence before the older woman responded.

“Sally,” she said with a small smile to Elara as she held her right hand out towards her. Elara smiled and clasped her hand.

“Elara,” she said as she shook Sally’s hand once.

“Are you Irish?” Sally asked. Elara nodded once.

“Moved to London when I was eight. The accent stayed,” Sally nodded.

“You got a last name?” Sally asked her. Elara smirked at her.

“Just Elara,” she replied. Sally chuckled.

“Alright, then,” she said. Another few beats of silence. “So, Holmes has a has a protege now. Can you do it too, then?” Elara glanced up at her.

“Do what?” She asked the woman.

“You know,” Sally said, nodding towards where Sherlock was flitting about the crime scene. “The deduction thing?” Elara snorted.

“The ‘deduction thing’?” Elara repeated with a grin. Sally chuckled, but nodded.

“Guess so, yeah,” Sally said. Elara gave the woman a once over and took a deep breath in.

“If by ‘the deduction thing’ you mean can I tell that you had a rough morning, then, yeah,” she replied. Sally quirked an eyebrow.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” she said. Elara smirked.

“Despite getting home at a decent time last night, you didn’t sleep well. You had an unannounced house guest this morning, likely a gentleman caller, as you don’t seem the type to have family close enough that would pop in like that. You had a rushed breakfast of dry toast, judging by the remnants of crumbs on your blouse and the tea blotches on your sleeves where you hurriedly drank it to wash down the toast and burned your mouth and lips, blotting them with your sleeve. You then discovered you had a flat tire, but, upon further inspection, you saw that it was actually slashed. You then had to take the time to change out the tire yourself, telling by the grease stains on your fingers. You rushed in to work, as you were running late, but tripped on the steps to the NSY building, scraping your right knee when you caught yourself before entering the building and returning right back to your vehicle when D.I. Dimmock said there was a body found seeing as you weren’t able to clean up your knee or the scrape on your palm before arriving on scene,” Elara stopped and took a breath, smirking slightly at Sally’s dumbfounded expression.

“So, Sergeant,” Elara said, removing her backpack from her shoulders and digging out alcohol pads and handing them to Sally. “How did I do?”

“How could you possibly know that my tire was slashed?” Sally asked incredulously as she took the alcohol pads.

“Fair question, was a tiny bit of a guess on my part after I saw your reaction when I mentioned the flat,” Elara said, gently taking Sally’s hand- noting and ignoring Sally’s tiny, nearly unnoticeable flinch- and gently cleaned the scrape on her palm.

“My reaction?” Sally asked. Elara nodded.

“You tensed up when I mentioned the flat tire,” she said. “Simple enough to know that there was something worse going on with it, likely it being slashed rather than just flat. It scared you,”

“Scared me?” Elara nodded.

“It scared you, not because it was slashed,” Elara said, zipping her backpack back up and shouldering it once more. “But because you know who did it,” Sally paled slightly and glanced away. Elara followed her gaze to where Anderson was glaring at the both of them.

“And I know who did it too,” Elara said quietly. Sally’s head snapped back to her, but her eyes fearfully glanced back over to Anderson. “Look at me, Sally, don’t look at him,” Sally’s eyes snapped back to Elara.

“H-how-” Sally stammered out.

“I know, because I see. I saw your reactions to him yesterday. You reacted in fear,” Sally opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Elara continued on. “And I understand, because I know that kind of fear. I’ve lived that kind of fear,”

“Y-you-” Elara nodded, but stopped her from speaking.

“It’s complicated, and a story for another time,” Elara said, holding up Sally’s mobile. Sally’s eyes went wide, patting her jacket pocket where her mobile had been. Elara typed something in to the mobile and discreetly handed it back to her.

“How did you-”

“Not the priority at the moment,” Elara said. “I’ve input my mobile number in to your phone under the name of Reneé Scott,”

“It’s password protected-”

“Simple enough. Bad idea to use your year of birth for those passcodes, by the way,” Elara said. “Remember who I am the protege of, I’ve learned from the best,” Sally let out a breath.

“As I said, my number is now in your mobile. If you need me or any sort of help, call me. Even if it’s just calling and leaving the mobile in your pocket. If you aren’t able to call, send the letters V.C. and I will come, I swear to you I will,” Elara said.

“You- you’re a child,” she said. Elara smirked.

“In the eyes of the law, yes,” Elara said. “But I’ve not been a child in a very long time,” Sally stood there, staring at Elara, mobile still held loosely in her hand. Elara smiled at her.

“I’ll be in touch. Do call if you need me,” Elara said before turning and walking over towards where her uncles were.

“You, girl!” Elara stopped in her tracks, wincing at what she had been called before turning and looking Anderson dead in the face.

“I have a name,” she said hotly. “And I’d prefer that you use it,” Anderson scoffed.

“I could care less what you’re called,” he seethed. “What were you doing talking to Sally?” Elara cocked an eyebrow.

“I don’t know what business that is of yours,” she said coolly.

“You’ve got a big mouth on you, girl,” he growled.

“And you’re like a rare species: Rarely right, and rarely useful,” Elara retorted. Anderson turned a shade of red and stepped towards Elara threateningly.

“Elara!” Elara and Anderson both looked towards where Sally was calling her, but Elara could see the fear in her eyes, despite how well-hidden it was. “Watson needs you,” Elara nodded and walked over to where her uncles were.

“Are you alright?” John asked her immediately. Elara nodded.

“Perfectly fine,” Elara said. John gave her a once-over with his eyes and nodded.

“How did it go?” John said as Sherlock approached them. Elara glanced beyond John and saw Anderson seething quietly by himself and Sally fingering the pocket with her mobile in it.

“I think I struck a nerve,” she said.

“With whom?” Sherlock asked. Elara spared one last glance at the two before answering.

“Both,”

Chapter Text

A week and a half passed without further incident and Mycroft and Greg’s return- and Elara’s birthday- was in three days. John was on shift at the A&E, leaving Sherlock and Elara to themselves. Elara was currently breezing through her chemistry homework- which would, of course, be checked by her Uncle Sherlock when she was done- when her mobile went off with a message. She quickly finished the problem she was working on before checking her mobile.

VC - SD

A location link followed that message and Elara’s blood ran cold. She scurried to her feet, breathing heavily.

“UNCLE ‘LOCK!” She yelled, turning to where she knew the man was experimenting in the kitchen. There was a clattering of glass before Sherlock rushed in to the room, eyes wild. She held her mobile out to him with a shaking hand.

“It’s her,” she said. “It’s Sally. She needs help. Now. We have to go,” Sherlock opened the location link.

“She’s at her flat,” he said. Elara snatched her jumper and Sherlock’s Belstaff off the coat rack, tossing the coat to Sherlock.

“Let’s go!” She cried. They thundered down the stairs, past a disapproving Mrs. Hudson and out the door, where Sherlock used his magic cab-hailing skills and hurriedly told the cabbie the address.

“There’s an extra £50 in it for you if you can get us there as quickly as you can,” Sherlock said.

The cabbie grinned and Elara endured the most terrifying- yet exhilarating- cab ride of her life. Ten minutes later, Sherlock tossed the fare and the extra £50 at the cabbie before asking him to wait. He exited the cab, quickly followed by Elara. Sherlock turned to her.

“Stay behind me,” he told her seriously. “If I tell you to run, do it. Do you understand, Elara?” Elara nodded.

Sherlock turned and approached the front door, which was slightly ajar. Sherlock cautiously pushed it open and they entered Sally’s flat. Elara stifled a gasp. The place was a mess. Glass was everywhere, the lamp was upset, a coffee table was overturned, and Elara pointed out the smears of blood to Sherlock that led to a door that was shut and locked. Elara could hear stifled sobs from behind the door. Sherlock made to knock on the door, but Elara gently grabbed his wrist.

“Wait,” she whispered. “Let me, please,” Sherlock pursed his lips, but stood aside as Elara approached the door and tapped gently.

“Sally? Sally, it’s Elara. May I come in, please? Your flat is a bit of a wreck and I need to know you’re alright,” another stifled sob. “Sally, if you don’t answer us, then we’re going to have to kick in the door,” Elara exchanged a worried glance with Sherlock. Elara’s mobile buzzed.

kick it in - SD

cant get up - SD

Elara showed the messages to Sherlock, who nodded.

“Stand back, bee,” he murmured to her. Elara stepped back and watched as Sherlock kicked in the door with one swift kick. Elara hurried forward in to what was a bathroom, gasping when she saw a bloodied Sally laying on her side, curled in on herself. Elara fell to her knees next to the woman.

“Sally,” she said reaching out and gently grasped Sally’s hand. “What happened? Who’s done this to you, love?” Sally let out a pained sob as she tried to move.

“Ph-Philip,” she stuttered out. “He- he d-did this,” she sobbed.

“Sally, we need to get you to hospital,” Sherlock said in a gentle voice as he knelt next to them. “You need to be looked over properly,” her breath hitched and she looked over at Sherlock.

“No- no amb-ambulance,” she said. “P-please, Sherlock,” Sherlock pursed his lips, but nodded after a few moments.

“I’ll need to pick you up, Sally,” he murmured to her. “May I pick you up?” Sally let out a shuddery breath and nodded.

“I’m going to be as gentle as I possibly can, but this will likely hurt, Sally,”

“S’fine,” she said through gritted teeth. Sherlock quickly removed his Belstaff and draped it over Sally.

“Alright, here we go,” Sherlock said as he gently slid his hands under her knees and shoulders. Sally let out an agonized sob as Sherlock gently lifted her in to his arms. He paused for a moment. “Catch your breath. We'll go when you’re ready,”

Sally took several shuddery breaths before she looked at Sherlock and nodded. Sherlock slowly and carefully maneuvered his way through the destroyed flat, Elara following closely behind. Once outside of the flat, Elara hurried forward and opened the cab door and helped Sherlock ease in to the cab with Sally still held securely in his arms.

“St. Bart’s hospital, quickly, please,” Elara told the cabbie, who looked horrified at the state of Sally. He nodded and they sped off.

“Call John, please, Elara,” Sherlock said. Elara nodded and fished her mobile from her pocket and rang her uncle.

“Hello? Elara? Are you alright? What’s wrong?” John’s concerned voice came from the other end once he picked up.

“We are on our way to you,” she said quickly. “Sally reached out to me and we went to get her. She’s- She’s in bad shape. She didn’t want an ambulance, so we’ve bundled her in to a cab,”

“Christ,” John breathed. “How bad are we looking?” John said.

“Definitely a concussion, she’s got a laceration to her face, she may have some damage to her eye socket seeing as her left eye is swollen completely shut. She’s definitely got some sort of damage to her ribs. I’m not sure if they’re broken or just bruised, but she’s definitely in some pain,” Elara heard John let out some muffled swears on the other end of the line before he barked out orders to someone else on his end.

“ETA?” John asked.

“About three minutes now,” she told him after a quick glance out the window at her surroundings.

“Alright. We’ll meet you at the entrance,”

“Good. Make sure security is present. We’ve no idea where Anderson is now,” Elara told him.

“Understood. See you in a mo’,” Elara hung up. Sally was crying softly again.

“I- I’m s-sorry,” she stuttered out through her tears.

“Sally, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Sherlock said before Elara had a chance to respond. “What has been done to you is nothing short of egregious, and I’ll not rest until the coward who has done this to you is brought to justice,” Sally sniffed and let her head fall back on to Sherlock’s shoulder.

“You’re alright now, Sally,” Sherlock said. “Just rest for now. No one will harm you whilst I am here,”

They pulled up to St. Bart’s A&E moments later and were met by John and a small team of other hospital employees. Sherlock slowly shimmied out of the cab, trying not to jostle Sally too much and gently laid her on the stretcher that John led him to. The team immediately began wheeling Sally inside as John began speaking to Sally before checking her pupils and voicing his findings to the team.

“Pupils unequal with delayed response. Petechial hemorrhaging present in both eyes and on the throat. GCS is 11. Laceration below the left eye. Severe hematoma around the left eye with possible facial fractures. Let’s get a head CT and x-rays” John said quickly as they burst in to the emergency department and in to a room. John prepped Sally’s hand for an IV as two other nurses put Sally in a neck brace.

“Big stick, love. 1, 2, 3,” John said as he slid the needle in to her skin with a practiced ease and taped the tubing in place.

“Alright, let’s move,” John said. He looked up to Sherlock before they left the room with Sally. “Call Dimmock. Get him here,”

Sherlock nodded and John vanished with Sally and his team. He pulled out his mobile and called the D.I. Elara let out a shuddery breath and sunk in to a chair, putting her feet in the chair and hugging her knees to her chest. The adrenaline was wearing off now and all Elara wanted was her dad and papa. A hand on her knee startled her badly.

“Easy, bee,” Sherlock murmured as he brushed his hand through her hair. “You’re alright,” Elara let out the quietest of sobs. Sherlock scooped her up in to his arms and sat down with her.

“I want my dads,” she whispered out to him.

“I know, bee. I know,” Sherlock said. They sat there for a while until they were joined by Dimmock.

“Sherlock,” he said grimly.

“Detective Inspector,” Sherlock greeted. Dimmock let out a breath.

“How bad?” He asked them.

“Bad,” Sherlock responded. “Severe facial trauma- including lacerations and severe swelling to her left eye- moderate concussion, and- by the feel of it- at least three broken ribs. You’re looking at least at a GBH charge, if not attempted murder,”

“And she said that Anderson did this?” Sherlock nodded.

“Her exact words were ‘Philip. He did this.’,” Sherlock said. “Elara was also present when Sally voiced her attacker,” Elara nodded.

“Right. I’ve got officers posted at all the entrances. I doubt he’s stupid enough to come here, but I’m not taking any chances,” Elara scoffed.

“Oh, please,” she said. “Anderson is the perfect example as to why there are instructions on shampoo bottles,” Sherlock’s lips quirked upward in a brief smile before returning to neutrality.

Dimmock sank in to the seat next to Sherlock and Elara and they waited. Elara wasn’t sure exactly how long they waited. She ended up dozing off and on with her head on Sherlock’s shoulder whilst Dimmock sat rigidly next to them in their vigil. After a couple of hours, John suddenly appeared in the room.

“Hello, all,” John said tiredly. Dimmock immediately stood up, but John held up a hand to stop him. “She’s been stablized for now. Her CT came back fine, she’s just got a bad concussion. She has three broken ribs, which have been set and bandaged. I stitched up her facial lacerations. X-rays showed that she didn’t have any damage to the bones in her face, but we won’t know about the vision in her left eye until the swelling goes down enough so that she can open her eye again. She had defensive bruising all over her inner forearms as well as a sprained wrist. She also had other bruising about her body, all in various stages of healing,” John said, handing Dimmock the file he had been carrying, full of photos and other documentation of Sally’s attack. Dimmock swallowed hard.

“Did- did he-? Was she-?” John shook his head.

“She was not sexually assaulted, no,” John said and Dimmock visually deflated. “We asked her and she denied it, but I had one of our SANE nurses check her over just to cover our bases,”

“When may I speak to her?” Dimmock asked.

“Not tonight, I’m afraid,” John said. “She’s been through quite the ordeal and had to be sedated. You can talk to her first thing tomorrow when she wakes up,” Dimmock nodded.

“Thank you, Doctor Watson,” he said, holding his hand out. John gave the man a tired, kind smile as he grasped Dimmock’s hand. Dimmock left shortly afterwards, leaving John with Elara and Sherlock. John took Elara’s hand and gently pulled her to her feet before wrapping his arms around her.

“You did so well, darling,” John murmured in to her hair.

“We have to find him,” Elara whispered out. “He needs to answer for what he’s done to her,”

“We will find him, Elara, I assure you of that,” Sherlock said. He stood and wrapped his arms around John and Elara. “Anderson is an idiot. He cannot hide forever. I have my homeless network on the lookout,” Elara thought of something and her head snapped up.

“Anderson’s wife,” she said as she looked between the men in a panicked manner. “God knows what he’s possibly done to her-”

“Relax, bee,” Sherlock said.

“Deep breaths, darling,” John said.

“I have Wiggins watching her home and Dimmock has officers stationed nearby the home as well. She will be safe,” Sherlock told her. John sighed.

“You both should get home,” John said. “It’s getting late,”

“No,” Elara said. “I’d like to stay with Sally, please,”

“Elara-”

“She deserves someone she trusts to wake up to,” Elara interrupted John. “I know how scary this is and I know you do too, Uncle John,” John paled slightly, but held firm in his stance.

“She trusted me enough to contact me when she needed help. She trusted Uncle Sherlock to help get her safely out. She has no family or other friends. Please,” Elara said. “Please, let me stay. Let me do this for her,”

“John, love,” Sherlock said softly, taking one of John’s hands in his. John sighed.

“I know, I know,” John said, rubbing his eyes. “She’s bloody right. Alright, follow me,”

John led them out of the A&E department and upstairs to Sally’s room, which was being guarded by two NSY officers, who immediately parted and allowed the three of them to enter the room. Sally lay sedated on the bed. She had been changed in to a hospital gown and cleaned up, but Elara could see the pattern of bruises on the woman’s arms that she had missed when Sally had been in long sleeves.

“I’m off shift in four hours at 6:00 AM,” John said. Sherlock nodded.

“Molly said she would stop by Baker Street and grab some clothes for us before she comes on shift tomorrow,” Sherlock said. “We have a criminal to find,”

Chapter Text

Sally woke very suddenly. Her eye- she couldn’t open her left eye- snapped open and she took in a short, pained breath as she glanced around.

“Easy, Sally,” Sally started slightly as Sherlock’s gentle baritone from her right. She glanced over at him. “Try and be still. You’ve been hurt badly,” Sherlock turned and tapped John- who had been dozing next to Elara- who woke with a start, glancing around alarmed before seeing Sally awake.

“Sally,” John said with a sad smile as he heaved himself up, stretching slightly before approaching Sally and checking her vitals. “You’ve been out for several hours. How are you feeling?” Sally let out a breath and winced

“Like Hell,” she said, wincing at the pain in her throat. Sherlock held a cup with a straw in it to Sally’s lips. She accepted it readily, relishing the relief that the ice water had on her throat. “Thanks,” she whispered out.

“You’re welcome,” Sherlock said, placing the cup back on to the table.

“He won’t get to you here, Sally, I promise you,” John said after a moment of silence. “Dimmock has this place guarded and on lockdown, and Sherlock has his homeless network on the lookout for Anderson,”

“I’m sorry,” Sally whispered out. Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows.

“Whatever for?” He asked her. Sally took in a shuddery breath, wincing.

“For everything. For the name calling. For the way I’ve treated you over the years. And now for this-”

“Sally, no,” Sherlock said. “While I appreciate the apology for the bullying over the years, I am not completely innocent in that either, and I do also apologize for that. But you do not ever apologize for this, Sally. Never,” Sally felt a tear slip out of her one good eye. John reached out and brushed it away.

“It’ll be alright now, Sally,” John said. “We’re on the case. He’ll not lay another finger on you,”

“Thank you,” Sally choked out.

“Sally?” Elara said as she stretched slightly, wincing at the pull in her shoulder before standing and approaching the bed.

“Thank you,” Sally told her. “Thank you for coming to get me, you and Sherlock,” Elara smiled softly and gently grasped Sally’s hand.

“You needn’t mention it,” Elara told her. “I couldn’t in good conscience leave you in a situation like that. Not when I could do something about it,” a light knock at the door startled them as Dimmock popped his head in to the room.

“Hey, all. Sally, good to see you awake,”

“Hello, sir,” Sally said to him. He stepped fully in to the room.

“If you’re up to it, I’d like to get your statement, please,” he told her gently. Elara looked to Sally.

“Do you want us to stay?” She asked her. “We’ll stay if you want us to,” Sally took a deep breath.

“No. I’ll be alright,” Sally told her in as firm a voice as she could with her damaged throat. “Go. Go and get the bastard before he has a chance to hurt someone else,”

Sherlock, John, and Elara didn’t need telling twice. They bid Sally and Dimmock goodbye- Dimmock telling them to keep him posted- and they set out to find one of Sherlock’s homeless contacts. The tips given to them by several people led them to the Tower Bridge.

Elara followed Sherlock and John on to the bridge, being very careful about staying away from the edge. Ever since her birth father had tried to drown her in the bathtub when she was seven, Elara never deigned enter any body of water, including baths and swimming pools. When her fathers saw her initial reaction to asking if she wanted to take a bath, they never again mentioned baths. Elara never had an interest in water, so she never learned how to swim, and neither of her fathers would ever force her to do so. She hung back as her uncles walked towards another one of their homeless contacts, looking out over the Thames. An unfamiliar hand suddenly clamped on to the back of her neck and squeezed. Elara whimpered and moved to pull away, but was roughly pulled back.

“Don’t move. Don’t say a word,” the voice of Philip Anderson growled in her ear. Elara let out a breath as he pulled her slightly closer to the railing and further away from her uncles.

“Let go of me,” Elara hissed at him. Anderson scoffed.

“You don’t scare me, girl,” he sneered. Elara smirked a deadly smirk.

“I should,” she said. “And I told you, I have a name. Use it,”

In a move taught to her by her Uncle John, Elara quickly ducked under the arm holding her neck, catching it in her hand and twisting it before striking the middle of his twisted forearm, spraining his arm. Anderson yelled out, stumbling away from her slightly.

“Elara!” John shouted. Elara glanced back and saw her uncles rushing over to her. A hand snaked around her throat and she was pulled against Anderson’s front, a knife held to her cheek. John had his gun out and trained on Anderson.

“Let her go,” John said in an even, dangerous voice. “Let her go, or I will kill you, Anderson,”

“It’s over, Anderson,” Sherlock said. “Let her go and come quietly,”

“Shut up, freak!” Anderson snarled, pressing the blade of the knife harder against Elara’s cheek, drawing blood. Elara let out a small hiss of discomfort, only to be yanked back harder against the man, who stumbled slightly.

Elara took her chance just then, waiting for the knife to come away from her face before jamming her elbow in to Anderson’s diaphragm. His grip loosened on her throat and she managed to wriggle out of his grasp, intent on running directly to her uncles, who were already rushing towards the two of them. Anderson grasped Elara’s wrist in a vice-like grip and yanked her backwards towards him. Elara yelled out at the pain in her wrist, bringing her other hand up to block Anderson’s other hand that was still holding the knife. Sherlock reached them and grasped Anderson from behind as John disarmed Anderson of the knife. Elara ripped her wrist out of Anderson’s hand, expecting much more of a resistance. Elara stumbled backwards, flailing her arms for balance before she unexpectedly hit the railing of the bridge and went tumbling over the edge.

Time slowed down to a near stop as soon as Elara’s feet left the ground. It was an odd feeling, true weightlessness. The way all the air left her body as her tummy jumped to her throat was an odd, but equally thrilling feeling that Elara might have enjoyed more if she hadn’t hit the water of the Thames seconds later. Elara hit the surface and thought immediately that someone had temporarily replaced the water with concrete. Even though it was early September, the water was still quite frigid, and Elara sucked in an unconscious breath when she registered the chill, accidentally taking in a lung full of water.

Panic flowed through her and she thrashed in the water for the surface that she could not see, coughing reflexively, but unable to take in any oxygen as she kicked desperately for the surface. Elara quickly began to lose energy as her lungs burned for air. She gave one final, weak kick before her vision faded out. The last thing Elara was aware of was a pair of hands wrapping around her waist before she finally gave in and the darkness claimed her like an old friend.

Chapter Text

Sherlock watched in utter horror as Elara hit the railing and fell over the side of the bridge, plummeting in to the murky waters of the Thames below them. Before he could even begin to react, John had already tossed his mobile to the ground and threw himself over the side of the bridge, diving in after Elara. Sherlock immediately tackled Anderson to the ground. Anderson fought back weakly, equally shocked that the girl had tumbled over the side. Sherlock took a hold of Anderson’s throat.

“What have you done!?” He snarled at the now pale man below him. Strong hands grasped Sherlock’s arms from behind him and pulled him off Anderson. Sherlock struggled against the hold.

“Sherlock, stop!” Greg’s voice startled Sherlock and he immediately ceased his struggles.

“I told you the freak would lose it one day,” Anderson said, scurrying backwards. “He’s probably off his tits again,” Sherlock snarled at Anderson before turning to Greg. Greg turned to Anderson with the most dangerous look Sherlock had ever seen on the man’s face and pointed at him.

“You can shut your fucking mouth. Dimmock’s told me everything and I’ll be taking you in myself. If you value your miserable life, you’ll stay right there and keep quiet,” Greg spat out before turning to Sherlock, his face softening. “What’s happened? Where are John and Elara?”

“Call an ambulance and water rescue,” Sherlock said frantically. “They’ve gone over the side,” Greg paled so quickly that Sherlock feared the man may not be able to stay upright. Just as Sherlock thought that, Greg thrust his hand in to his pocket and whipped out his mobile, likely clicking on Mycroft’s contact.

“Get an ambulance and water rescue to my location immediately. Elara and John are in the water,” he barked in to the device before stuffing it back in to his pocket and rushing to the edge, not seeing John or Elara. Greg whipped around to Anderson.

“Why is my daughter in the Thames?” Greg asked in an eerily calm, quiet voice.

“I- I don’t-” Anderson sputtered out. “D-daughter?” Greg growled and lifted Anderson by his collar.

“Why is my daughter in the fucking Thames!?” Greg snarled out. Anderson turned so white that Sherlock would have been concerned if it had been anyone else. Sherlock saw that Greg was very close to snapping. He reached out a cautious hand and grasped Greg’s bicep.

“Greg,” Sherlock said, hearing the ambulance in the background. “He’s not worth it. Release him. Let the law handle him. You cannot be there for Elara if you’re behind bars,” Greg glared at Anderson for a few seconds before shoving the man from his grasp to the ground and turning to look over the railing.

“I see them!” Greg said after a few seconds before running down the bridge.

Sherlock turned to ensure that Anderson was being taken in to custody before sprinting after Greg and meeting him at the water’s edge. He watched as John swam towards the shore, keeping Elara’s head above the water.

“What happened?” Greg asked, devastated.

“We were following leads to Anderson’s whereabouts,” Sherlock breathed back, his eyes not leaving John. “Anderson appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Elara. She fought back against him. He pulled a knife and held her at knifepoint before she was able to get out of his hold. She stumbled back and fell over the railing,” John’s feet were finally able to find purchase on the bank and was trying to walk as quickly through the water towards the shore as he could with Elara held limply in his arms.

“Call an ambulance, now!” John barked breathlessly as he stumbled forward on to the shore. He quickly lowered Elara to the ground and began to check her pulse and airway. Greg let out a shuddery breath as he crashed to his knees beside John, who gave Elara a rescue breath.

“Oh, God,” Greg whispered out with a small sob.

“She has a pulse," John said as he checked Elara’s pulse again. “She’s just not wanting to breathe,” he said quickly before giving her another rescue breath. John continued this for several moments.

“Fuck!” John exclaimed before beginning to administer compressions to Elara’s chest. “Come on, Elara. Breathe, darling. Breathe!” John ground out before giving Elara another breath and continuing compressions.

Greg’s breath came out in heaving gasps as he gripped his hair, watching as John attempted to breathe life back in to his child. Just when Greg was about to break down completely, Elara made a gurgling noise and John quickly turned her on to her side as she vomited up the Thames.

“Easy, Elara,” John said, holding her upright as she coughed. “Breathe, darling. Don’t talk just yet. You just need to focus on breathing,” Elara gasped between coughs as John rubbed her back and looked up to Sherlock.

“Your coat, please, Sherlock,” John told him. Sherlock immediately ripped the Belstaff from his person and quickly wrapped it around Elara, who was shivering.

“P-pa-papa?” Elara said through her chattering teeth, having looked up and seen Greg. Greg let out a choked sob, opening his mouth to reply, but not getting a chance to when Elara began to cough once more.

“Where are the bloody paramedics?” John growled out. “She needs oxygen,” no sooner than John said this did the paramedics come rushing on to the scene. John wasted no time in debriefing them.

“Fourteen-year-old female, fell in to the Thames after being attacked by a male assailant. Was under for less than a minute, but was unconscious when I pulled her from the water. She was not breathing, but had a pulse. I gave several rescue breaths, but she remained unresponsive with agonal gasping present and I began compressions. She regained consciousness and was breathing unaided after four sets of compressions. She vomited up most of the water, but I can hear and feel crackling in her chest even without a stethoscope, so she’s still got fluid in her lungs. GCS is 15. She needs high-flow oxygen and IV antibiotics immediately,” John said, scooping Elara up in to his arms and hurrying towards the waiting ambulance with the paramedics.

Greg and Sherlock quickly followed, clambering in to the back of the ambulance. One paramedic hopped in to the front and began driving to hospital. Greg and Sherlock watched as John moved around the back of the ambulance like he belonged there, immediately hooking Elara up to oxygen and inserting an IV. He glanced up at the paramedic.

“Warm saline?” The paramedic nodded and handed him a bag, which John immediately hooked up to Elara’s line before turning to her. “I need to get that cut cleaned up, darling. Are you hurt anywhere else?” Elara thought for a moment, wiggling her toes, knees, and arms before wincing and holding out her right hand to John.

“Wrist smarts,” she told him. John took it and, with a gentle hand, began prodding the appendage.

“I don’t think anything is broken, but we’ll need to get this x-rayed when we get to hospital. The bruising is quite severe,” John said, gently setting her hand down on to her lap. Greg saw red at the handprint bruise that wrapped around his child’s wrist like a brand.

“Deep breaths, Greg,” John murmured, startling Greg as he hadn’t realized that John had stepped next to him. “She doesn’t need to see your ire,” Greg swallowed hard and stepped up to the stretcher.

“Papa,” Elara said with a smile, reaching out to Greg with her good hand. Greg smiled and reached out to tuck her wet, stringy hair from her face.

“Hey there, sunshine,” Greg said around the tightening of his throat. “Heard you’ve had an eventful couple of weeks,” Elara smiled and started to respond, but began to cough violently. John was next to her in seconds, coaxing her to relax and to try and breathe normally. Greg finally allowed some tears to escape him. Elara, having finally caught her breath, looked up to him.

“M’okay, papa,” she said in a hoarse voice. Greg collapsed in to the seat next to her, reaching out and gently pulling his child in to his arms, holding her close as they rode the rest of the way to hospital.

Chapter Text

Mycroft struggled to maintain his composure as he sped to hospital. Greg had received a call from Dimmock the night prior, apologizing profusely for disturbing their trip, but needing to let Greg know what was happening from him rather than Greg discovering it himself from someone else. When Dimmock told Greg that Sherlock, John, and Elara were going to be taking Sally’s case and searching for Anderson, Greg and Mycroft- once Greg told Mycroft what was going on- agreed to end their trip a couple of days early and flew back to London first thing the next morning.

Greg went immediately to where Mycroft told him the trio’s last location was whilst Mycroft stayed behind at home to unpack and tidy up a bit. Just as Mycroft was about to head up for a shower, his mobile went off. He fished in his pocket for the device: D.C.I Gregory Holmes-Lestrade.

“Gregory? Are you all on your way home-” Mycroft was cut off by his husband’s frantic, panic-laced voice.

“Get an ambulance and water rescue to my location immediately,” Greg said in one of the most severe voice he had ever used towards Mycroft. “Elara and John are in the water,” before Mycroft could even register what Greg had said, the line went dead.

Mycroft froze for all of a second before he dialed the necessary people as he flew out his door and in to the driver’s seat of one of his cars. Mycroft knew how to drive, he just detested doing so. His usual driver, James, was still on his holiday as Greg and Mycroft had cut theirs short. Mycroft could care less as he put the vehicle in to drive and peeled out of his property. His daughter was in trouble and the King himself couldn’t stop Mycroft from getting to her. Every light he hit was, miraculously green, and traffic was, oddly, nonexistent. God love Anthea and her powers. Mycroft made it to hospital in record time, screeching to a halt in front of the A&E before running in to the building and directly in to Greg.

“Easy, My, easy,” Greg said as he caught his husband before he could topple to the floor.

“Elara,” Mycroft said in between heaving gasps.

“She’s awake and alert,” Greg told him, leading Mycroft to where Sherlock was seated. “She was under for a minute, but was unconscious when John- who dove in after her- pulled her from the water. She had a pulse, but wasn’t breathing. John immediately gave her rescue breaths and then compressions and she was breathing on her own shortly afterwards. John has her now, My. She’s safe with John,” Mycroft let out a shuddery breath and buried his head in his hands, taking several deep breaths.

“Sherlock,” Mycroft said, glancing up at his brother. “What happened?” Sherlock spent the next twenty minutes detailing what exactly had happened over the last near two weeks.

“We did not realize that Anderson would be on the bridge,” Sherlock said, looking to the ground. “If I had any inclination that he would be present, Elara would not have left my sight, I swear to you Mycroft,”

“You couldn’t have known, Sherlock,” Greg said. Mycroft nodded.

“It was not your fault, brother mine,” Mycroft said. At that moment, the A&E doors opened and John- who had changed in to a pair of his scrubs- walked out towards them. They all scrambled to their feet, and John held up a hand to silence them all before they started speaking.

“She is awake and stable,” John began. “She’s still a bit cold, so warming measures are being taken. She’s hooked up to oxygen still, and we’ve done a bronchoscopy to remove the excess water from her lungs. Her wrist isn’t broken, just a bad sprain. The laceration to her cheek didn’t need stitches, thankfully. I’ve prescribed antibiotics for her since she took in about half the Thames. We’ll need to keep her here for the next several hours to monitor her for any adverse reactions. If she continues to improve, then you can take her home,” Mycroft swallowed hard and held his hand out to John, who grasped it immediately.

“Thank you, John,” Mycroft said. “Once again, you have saved Elara's life with little regard to your own safety,” John smiled up at him.

“She’s asking to see everyone. If you’ll all follow me, I’ll take you back to her,” John told them all before leading them in to the back to Elara’s room. Elara had been changed in to dry clothes and bundled in to a blanket, the cut on her face had been cleaned and bandaged, and her right wrist was enclosed in a brace. Her face lit up as she saw her fathers enter the room.

“Daddy! Papa!” Elara reached out to them and they both swept her up in to their arms.

“Elara, darling, are you alright?” Mycroft asked thickly, brushing her still damp hair back from her face. Elara nodded against his chest, breathing in his scent deeply.

“I’m okay, dad,” she whispered out. “I promise,”

“How are you feeling?” Greg asked her, pulling away to look his daughter up and down.

“Can we leave now, please?” Elara begged, looking up to her fathers with bright, wide eyes. “I desperately need to wash the Thames out of my hair,”

“I would have thought you’d had enough water for one day,” Mycroft said with a small smile. Elara scoffed and rolled her eyes before looking at Mycroft seriously.

“You take a dip in the Thames and not want a shower afterwards,” she said grouchily. “I’ll eat the kettle if you last five minutes without demanding a wash,” John snorted.

“And there’s the sass,” Greg said with a sigh, trying to hide his smirk as he looked to Mycroft. “She’s fine,” Mycroft let out a laugh.

“So, does that mean we can go now?” Elara said hopefully as she scrambled to get off the bed.

“Ah, no,” John intercepted, stopping her from getting off the hospital bed. “You nearly drowned today, Elara. You’ll have to stay here for a few hours at least so I can make sure you don’t start suffering from secondary drowning and monitor your oxygen saturation. If you continue to improve, then Mycroft and Greg can take you home,”

“Ugh,” Elara said, flopping back down on to the bed before wincing and hissing in pain. Mycroft immediately reached for her.

“Elara, what is it? What hurts, little one?” Mycroft asked frantically.

“M’fine,” She ground out, taking a slow, deep breath. “Chest just hurts a bit. Also, I’m not that little anymore, dad,” she told him with a smirk. Mycroft smiled gently and cupped her cheek in one hand.

“You’ll always be my little one, Elara,” he told her before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to her head.

“Do you want some pain medication, darling?” John asked her. “I’m afraid the chest pain is my fault from the compressions,” Elara waved him off.

“I’m alright, Uncle John. Just hurts badly if I move really quickly. If it gets worse, I’ll ask you for help, I promise,” John nodded at her.

“Alright. Just let me know,” John told her. A knock on the door caused them all to look up and see D.I. Dimmock at the door.

“Knock knock,” Dimmock said with a smile. “How’s she doing?” Greg stood and reached out to shake Dimmock’s hand.

“Much better, thank you,” Greg told him. Dimmock smiled at Elara, who smiled and waved at him. He looked to Greg.

“I’m terribly sorry to pull you away, but might I have a word, please?” Greg nodded.

“’Course,” Greg said before turning and kissing Elara on the head and Mycroft on the lips. “Be back shortly. Love you both,” Greg followed Dimmock out of the room.

“How’s Sally doing?” Greg asked him. The other man sighed.

“She’s shutting down. I took her statement, but she’s shutting me out. I’ve known her and worked with her for over ten years now, but I don’t have the rapport you have with her, Greg,” he told Greg. Greg let out a breath.

“You think she’ll talk to me?” Greg asked him. Dimmock nodded.

“I do. She looks up to you,” Greg nodded and took a deep breath.

“Alright. I’ll go up and see her. Let me make sure everything is good down here with Elara and I’ll head up,” Greg said. Dimmock smiled and nodded.

“Thanks, mate,” Greg smiled and clasped a hand on Dimmock’s shoulder before heading back in to Elara’s room.

“Everything alright?” John asked. Greg let out a breath.

“He wants me to go and talk to Sally,” Greg said. “She’s shutting everyone out and he thinks that I’ll be able to talk some sense in to her,”

“She’s in rough shape,” Elara said quietly.

“When do you think she’ll be able to be released?” Greg asked John.

“Likely in a day or two. We want to make sure her ribs heal up a bit more and make sure that she doesn’t suffer any ill-affects from the head injury,” John said. “However, I don’t think she should return to her home. At least not yet. I don’t want her by herself when she’s hurt this badly,”

“Could-” Elara began, but cut off, biting her lip.

“Go ahead, Elara, it’s alright,” Mycroft told her, grasping her hand in his. Elara took a breath.

“Could she maybe stay with us for a bit?” Elara asked timidly. “We can keep an eye on her and I can maybe get her to open up a bit more,” Mycroft looked to Greg.

“I have absolutely no issues with this as long as you’re alright with it, My,” Greg said. Mycroft smiled.

“I’ll ask Maddie to ready the guest room. Do let Sergeant Donovan know that she is welcome at ours for as long as she needs,” Greg smiled and nodded.

“Thank you. I’ll do that,” Greg looked to Elara once more. “You sure you’re alright here?” Elara rolled her eyes.

“Go,” Elara told him. “She needs you more than I do right now, papa. I’ll be fine down here,” Greg smiled at her.

“Alright, if you insist,” Greg told her.

Chapter Text

Sally woke once more to two hands gently encasing her non-injured hand. She blinked up at her visitor and saw- to her surprise- Greg.

“Greg?” Sally rasped out. Greg smiled down at her.

“Hey, Sal,” he said, freeing one of his hands to offer her water, which she happily took.

“What are you doing here?” Sally asked in a slightly more steady voice. “Thought you were finally off on your honeymoon with your mystery man?” Greg smiled.

“I was, yeah,” Greg told her. “But Dimmock called and told me what happened and I knew I was needed back home,” Sally glanced away and Greg squeezed her hand gently.

“Don’t do that, love. Talk to me, Sally. What happened?” Greg asked her gently.

“I- I don’t know what happened,” Sally whispered out. “It- It was f-fine. In the beginning. But, over time, he just- he changed, Greg. Especially after Sherlock returned. That’s when it started going downhill,”

“When was the first time he put his hands on you?” Greg asked. Sally swallowed, wincing.

“About a month after Sherlock returned,” she breathed out, breath hitching. Greg gently squeezed her hand. She took a steadying breath. “I was debating leaving him. He was acting bloody crazy. You remember what he was like around that time. I told him that he needed to get his act together or I was done. He- he slapped me, then. Open-handed, right in the face. I shoved him away from me and screamed at him that we were done. He begged me not to report it. I never did. I wish- I wish I had,” Sally broke off with a muffled sob. Greg reached out and brushed the tear from her face. Once she calmed down, Sally continued.

“I stayed away from him for a good six months. But, I’d gone out with the crew one night, had a few too many and had to take a cab home. He must’ve been tailing me, because he slid in to the cab next to me and gave me this whole sob story about how he’d gotten help and that he was better now, he’d been reinstated with NSY. I was drunk and I felt sorry for him. One thing led to another, and I took him back. Things were fine for the next several months. Then, shortly after you made D.C.I., he lost it again one night. I was trying to placate him, but I said something he must not have liked and he laid me out,”

“I remember the aftermath of that,” Greg said, eyebrows furrowed. “You were out for several days. You said you’d been in a car accident whilst in a cab,” Sally avoided his eyes, but nodded.

“I didn’t know what to do,” she breathed out. “What could I have said? Who could I have gone to?”

“Me, Sally,” Greg told her. “You could have come to me. You can always come to me, love. For anything,” Sally sniffed and wiped more tears from her face.

“I was embarrassed,” she admitted. “I’m a sergeant for NSY. I should have been able to handle it-”

“No,” Greg said firmly, but not unkindly. “I’m not saying you can’t handle yourself, Sally, but I’m saying you shouldn’t have had to go at it alone. Anderson lost the plot years ago. He was good at hiding his true intentions. People like him usually are. Abusers are cowards. They find people smaller than they are to bully and beat because it makes them feel powerful and in control,”

“You seem well-versed on this,” Greg smiled grimly.

“Likely more than you know, I’m afraid,” he said. “You are not weak, Sally. I will never, ever think less of you for the trauma you have been through, and you never have to be embarrassed or ashamed to show your battle scars, be they physical or not. You’ve endured a horrible ordeal, but you got yourself out. You sought help and asked for it when you needed it. You’ve pressed charges, and your attacker is now in custody, where he’s gonna stay until his court date, I promise you that,” Sally furrowed her eyebrows.

“How do you know he won’t make bail?” Greg smirked.

“Because he won’t be offered bail,” Greg said leaning back in his chair. “Trust me, I know. I married the British Government,” Sally gawked at him like he’d grown another head. Greg grinned.

“It’ll make more sense to you in the next couple of days,” Greg told her. “You’ll likely be released in the next day or two, but John doesn’t want you by yourself just yet. We- my husband and I- would like for you to stay with us,” Sally opened her mouth to protest, but Greg held up a hand to silence her.

“Listen to me, Sal,” he told her. “You’ve been hurt badly. You need some more help, love. And your flat is completely destroyed right now anyway. I don’t want you by yourself right now, and neither does John. Now, we will not force you to stay with us for a spell, but we would really urge you to do so. You’ll be safe there with us. Our home security is state of the art and we’ve a security team on at all times,”

“A security team?” Sally asked. Greg chuckled.

“I told you, I married the British Government,” Greg said. Sally let out a breath.

“If- if you both wouldn’t mind,” Sally said, glancing up at him. “I- I would really appreciate it if I could stay with you lot for a few days,” Greg smiled and kissed her knuckles.

“We’re already preparing the guest room. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. You’re on paid leave from NSY until John clears you to return, so you needn’t worry about any of that,” Sally nodded.

“Thank you, Greg,” she said with a small smile.

“Don’t mention it, love. You just focus on getting better and we will handle the rest,” he told her, standing up to leave.

“Greg?” He turned back to look at her. “There- There was this girl who was with John and Sherlock. Elara. She wouldn’t tell me her last name, but she was the one who saw everything the second she met me. I honestly would think she was a love child of Sherlock’s, but I cannot possibly believe that whatsoever,” Greg snorted.

“Anyway, she saved me. She and Sherlock did. Is- Is she still around by chance?” She asked him. Greg thought for a moment.

“You’ll see her again soon, I promise,” Greg told her. Sally nodded. “I’ve got to pop back downstairs for a bit, but I’ll look in on you again before I leave tonight. D’you need or want anything?”

“I would kill for a decent cup of tea if you can find one,” Sally admitted. Greg smirked.

“I’ve got you covered, love,”

Chapter Text

Mycroft stepped out of the lift and made his way towards Sally’s room, a box of what Greg had told him were her favorite pastries in one hand and a cup of tea from his favorite café in the other. He nodded at the guards on her door- his own agents he had replaced the NSY officers with- and they opened the door for him. Mycroft found Sally asleep. He quietly crept in and placed the box of pastries down on the bedside table. Sally stirred just when he went to place the tea down. Wanting to respect her boundaries, Mycroft backed up a couple of steps as Sally woke and glanced over to him.

“Good evening, Sergeant Donovan,” he said with a kind smile.

“Hello, sir,” Sally said. “You can call me Sally,”

“Mycroft,” he replied back, stepping forward and handing her the mug of still-hot tea. “I believe you requested a decent brew?” Sally smiled, wincing as she attempted to sit up. Mycroft made to help her, but hesitated.

“May I help you up?” He asked her. Sally looked up at him and nodded.

“Please,” she ground out. Mycroft stepped forward and gently assisted her in to a sitting position, positioning the pillows behind her to support her better.

“Thanks,” Sally said, taking the cup from him and taking a sip. “Oh, wow, this is good. Thank you, so much,” Mycroft smiled down at her.

“You are quite welcome, Sally,” he said. “There are also pastries here for you as well,” Sally glanced over at the box, a small grin on her face before she looked back up to Mycroft.

“So, you’re him, then?” She asked him. Mycroft quirked an eyebrow.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about,” he said to her.

“You’re Greg’s husband,” she said. “The ‘British Government’ himself?” Mycroft scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Gregory exaggerates, I assure you,” Mycroft told her seriously. Sally snickered.

“Well, you’ve got some sort of pull regardless,” Sally said, glancing at the box. “It’s well after 8:00 PM and this shoppe closes at 3:00 PM,” Mycroft smiled guiltily.

“You’ve caught me,” Sally chuckled. “Since you have agreed to stay with us for a while, John is going to allow us to take you home tomorrow. I’ve asked my assistant to gather you a bag from your flat, which she will be bringing tomorrow before we leave. Please do let me or Gregory know if you require anything and it shall be procured for you. Should you need anything, my card is on the box of pastries. Please do not hesitate to reach out,” Sally thanked him and bid him goodbye before excitedly reaching for the box of pastries, pulling Mycroft’s card from the lid and glancing at it and feeling her heart jump to her throat.

“Mycroft Holmes,” she whispered out the name on the card. Sally let out a breath. “God, there’s two of them. And Greg’s married this one,”

The next day saw Sally being given a once-over by John before she was to be discharged. A female nurse helped Sally in to some of the comfortable clothing that Mycroft’s assistant- Sally was still trying to wrap her head around that- had gotten out of her flat for her as Greg stood guard outside the room.

“Well, Sally, you’re still a ways away from 100%, but, you’re on the mend,” John told her, swiping through her chart on the tablet he held. “I’ll be by tomorrow to look in on you, but you need to tell Mycroft or Greg immediately- or me as you have my mobile number- if you start feeling poorly, particularly if you suddenly have a hard time breathing or if your head begins splitting or you get confused or overly tired,” Sally nodded.

“I will, John, I promise,” John smiled kindly at her.

“Thank you. I’ve given Mycroft and Greg a list of red flags to be on the watch for and I’ve also sent along your meds over to Mycroft’s already, so you don’t have to worry about that. Do you have any questions for me?” Sally thought for a moment.

“Don’t think so,” she told him. John nodded.

“Right. I’ll go and let Greg know he’s clear to take you home, then,” John said before poking his head out of the door and bringing Greg in.

“Hey, Sal. Ready to go?” Sally nodded.

“Definitely, please,” Sally said as a nurse wheeled in an empty wheelchair.

“Right, then,” Greg said reaching out a hand to help her up. “Your chariot awaits, my dear,” Greg and Sally bid John goodbye and Greg wheeled Sally down to a waiting car and loaded her up before the driver began driving them back.

“So, you have questions,” Greg said, not bothering to hide his smirk. “You can ask them,”

“Um,” Sally hesitated before pulling out Mycroft’s card. “So, there’s another Holmes. And you married him?” Greg snorted.

“Of course that’s how he told you,” Greg said rolling his eyes. “Yes, Mycroft is Sherlock’s older brother. We married back in December of 2020,”

“Is he at work?” Sally asked. Greg shook his head.

“No. We cut our vacation short, but he’s still on leave for a little over another week. He’s at home right now preparing for your arrival,” Sally let out a breath.

“You guys really don’t need to make such a fuss. Not for me,” Sally said softly.

“Hey,” Greg said gently as he rested a hand on her knee. “It’s not an issue, Sally. And it never will be. Besides, we couldn’t say no to the person who asked to bring you in,” Sally furrowed her eyebrows.

“Who-?” Sally began but stopped short when they pulled up to Mycroft and Greg’s home.

“Christ, Greg,” Sally exclaimed. “How loaded is this guy?” Greg snorted.

“I’ll tell you what he told me when I asked him that very question: ‘You don’t want to know’,”

Sally let out a breath as the car stopped and Greg got out and helped Sally to her feet, guiding her to the front door. She watched as Greg put in two sets of security codes and a fingerprint lock. Sally looked at him crazily. Greg chuckled.

“I told you; Mycroft is the British Government,” he said as he opened the door and gestured Sally inside. Once inside, Greg led Sally to the front room and sat her down on the couch. Mycroft chose that moment to enter from the kitchen.

“Sally, welcome. Please, make yourself at home. Can I get you anything?” Mycroft asked her.

“Um, no, thank you, sir- Mycroft. Thank you,” Sally stuttered out.

“Please tell me you aren’t intimidating her,” a familiar voice came from behind Mycroft. Mycroft turned.

“You are supposed to be resting, little one,” he told the voice sternly. The form of Elara stepped from behind Mycroft.

“I’m fine, dad,” she told him. “Besides, I want to make sure Sally is alright,”

“Elara?” Sally gaped at her. Elara smirked.

“Hey, Sally. I see you’ve met my dads,”

“Dads?” Sally asked incredulously. Elara nodded.

“My name is Elara Carissa Holmes-Lestrade,” she told her, sitting down next to her. “They adopted me back in 2017 when I was eight years old,” Sally furrowed her eyebrows.

“That was well before Greg got remarried,” she said turning to Elara. “You told me the other day that you first came to London when you were eight,” Elara nodded.

“I did, yes,” Elara confirmed. “My birth name is Renee Aimee Finnegan. My birth parents were Cathal and Mallory Finnegan,” Sally gasped, locking eyes with Greg, who nodded.

“I- I remember hearing about your abduction back in 2018,” Sally said. “Obviously, I didn’t know that you were Greg’s kid then, but it was a huge buzz around The Yard. We were all told your adoptive parents had reached out to Sherlock and John to retrieve you and Greg tagged along for official reasons,”

“I’m sorry Gregory had to deceive you,” Mycroft said. “For security reasons, we have to be very careful about who we tell certain things, Elara and our marriage included. Being who I am and the job I have makes it very dangerous to be even an acquaintance of mine, let alone my daughter or husband,” Sally let out a breath.

“I know some of your story,” Elara said, getting up and retrieving a now worn photo album- the album Greg had gifted Mycroft on Elara’s first Christmas- and returning to sit next to Sally. “Will you let me tell you mine?” Sally glanced nervously towards Mycroft and Greg.

“I- I don’t-” Sally stuttered out. “Are you sure?” Mycroft nodded once.

“If Elara has chosen to share her story with you, then we trust her judgement,” Mycroft said. “We simply ask that you tell no one else, for your safety as well as Elara’s,” Sally nodded immediately.

“Of course not,” Sally said. “Your secret dies with me, I promise you,”

“Right,” Greg said, taking Mycroft’s hand. “We’ll leave you ladies to it, then. Lunch’ll be ready in a couple of hours and then we’ll give you a proper tour, Sally,” Greg looked at Mycroft with a loving smile before gently tugging the man from the room. Sally turned to Elara.

“So,” Elara said. “Where would you like me to start?”

Chapter Text

Sally lay in the guest bed that night, her mind reeling as she mulled over everything she had learned earlier in the day. She recalled all the photos Elara had shown her from the photo album. Several of the early ones taken had shown marks and bruises on the criminally small then-eight-year-old Elara. Elara had- with frighteningly accurate detail- been able to recall how nearly every mark had been made. The girl had told her story with dignity and grace, recalling every harrowing moment as though it had happened yesterday. Sally was devastated for her, but more so when she found out what had happened leading up to Anderson’s arrest. Sally had dissolved in to tears and apologized profusely to the girl, who wrapped her arms around the woman and continuously told her that it was no fault of hers.

A deep, wheezing cough from the other room startled Sally from her thoughts. Sally slowly sat up, wincing. She knew Elara’s room was next to the guest room, Greg and Mycroft’s was down and across the hall. A thump and more coughs from Elara’s room had Sally padding out in to the hallway in her sock feet. She hesitantly tapped on Elara’s door.

“Elara? You alright?” Another, louder thump from the room settled Sally’s resolve. “I’m coming in,” Sally opened the door, revealing a wheezing Elara leaned up against the wall. Sally’s eyes widened and she hurried in to the room, kneeling down next to Elara.

“Inhaler- Bathroom- Mirror- Cabinet-” Elara gasped in between wheezes.

Sally hurried to Elara’s en suite and rummaged through the medicine cabinet, retrieving the inhaler and rushing back to Elara, shaking the device before handing it to her. Elara uncapped the device and administered the medication. Sally reached out and brushed some of Elara’s hair from her face, noting the heat coming off the girl.

“I’m gonna go and get your parents,” she told her. Elara nodded. Sally stumbled to her feet and quickly made her way to Greg and Mycroft’s door, steeling herself before knocking on the door. Sally heard murmuring and shuffling from the other side of the door before it was opened by Greg.

“Sally?” Greg asked, his voice still thick with sleep. She saw Mycroft putting on his dressing gown in the background. “You alright? S’wrong?”

“Elara is sick. She’s got a fever and she can’t breathe,”

If Greg was still half-asleep when he opened the door, he snapped awake in that second, quickly hurrying to his daughter’s bedroom, quickly followed by Mycroft, who gently squeezed Sally’s shoulder as he brushed past her. Sally followed them, hanging back by the doorway, watching as Mycroft knelt down next to Greg, who had one hand on Elara’s chest and the other on her forehead.

“Call John,” Greg told Mycroft, who nodded and pulled his mobile. “Sounds like pneumonia has set in. Hopefully it won’t be too bad this go around since she’s already on antibiotics,” Mycroft pressed his mobile to his ear, stepping back as he murmured urgently in to the device

“Alright, sunshine, let’s get you back in to bed and hooked up to your nebulizer,” Greg said as he lifted Elara up in to his arms and back over to her bed.

“Thank you, John. We’ll see you shortly,” Mycroft said before ending the call. “John will be here in ten minutes,” Greg nodded.

“I’m gonna go and get her machine,” Greg said, leaning over to kiss Elara’s too-warm forehead before kissing Mycroft on the cheek. “Be right back,”

“Why didn’t you call for us, little one?” Mycroft asked gently. Elara nodded to her dresser.

“Dropped mobile- Slid- Under Dresser-” Elara said in between wheezing breaths. Mycroft pursed his lips in worry.

“Save your breath, Elara,” he said, feeling her temperature with the back of his hand on her cheeks and forehead before turning to Sally. “Thank you for getting us, Sally. Lord knows what would have happened if you’d not heard her,” Sally nodded.

“No problem. I’m sorry she’s sick, but happy she’ll be alright,” Sally said.

Greg hurried back in to the room and the men got to work setting up the nebulizer. Sally quietly left the room and headed downstairs to make tea for everyone and wait for John. Just as Sally poured the tea, she heard the front door.

“Mycroft? Greg? Where are you?” John’s voice called out. Sally poked her head in to the entryway.

“They’re upstairs in Elara’s bedroom. They’ve hooked her up to the nebulizer,” she told the good doctor. John nodded.

“Right. I’ll head up. Thanks, Sally,” Sally nodded and watched John rush upstairs. Just as she went to turn back to go to the kitchen, she glanced up and saw Sherlock standing in front of the door.

“Hey,” Sally said softly.

“Hello, Sally,” Sherlock said with a nod of his head, eyeing her up and down once. “Would you like help with the tea tray?” Sally smiled.

“Sure,” Sherlock followed her in to the kitchen, retrieving the tea tray and placing it on the table for Sally to load it up.

“So, you’ve got a brother, then,” Sally said. Sherlock scoffed.

“More like a mother hen,” Sherlock muttered, earning a snicker from Sally. Sherlock’s lips quirked up momentarily. There was a few moment’s before Sherlock spoke again.

“Are you alright, Sally?” He asked her gently. Sally let out a shuddery breath. There was no use in lying to the man.

“I- I don’t know what to do next,” she admitted, her hands shaking as she held the pot of tea. “I- I’m scared, Sherlock,” Sherlock immediately stood and took the pot of tea from her, wrapping a hesitant arm around Sally’s shoulders. Sally crumbled in to his chest with a quiet sob and- this time- Sherlock did not hesitate to wrap his arms around her.

“I- I’m scared,” she choked out.

“I know, Sally, I know,” Sherlock murmured to her. “And that’s alright. We’ll take this one step at a time. Just know that you are completely safe here. Nobody in this house will allow anything to happen to you, Sally,”

“What’s going on?” Greg’s voice startled Sally, and Sherlock tightened his grip ever so slightly around her, pursing his lips, not knowing what to say.

“I’m- I’m alright,” Sally said as she pulled away slightly from Sherlock and wiped her eyes. “Just- It’s a lot right now,” Greg gently pulled her from Sherlock and in to his arms.

“I know. I know it is. But it’ll get better, Sal. The hard part’s over now,” he told her. Sally nodded against his chest before pulling away.

“Is Elara alright?” Sally asked. Greg let out a breath.

“It’s pneumonia again,” he said and Sherlock swore under his breath.

“Again?” Sally asked, confused. Greg nodded.

“Because of the nutrition she missed out on as a small child, her immune system isn’t as great as it should be, so she gets sick pretty easily. A lot of colds for her can easily turn in to pneumonia if we aren’t very careful. We were concerned that her dip in the Thames would result in this. John already had her on antibiotics, so he’s gonna get her on a stronger antibiotic and now an oral steroid to nip this in the bud,” Greg told them. Sherlock groaned. “Yeah, I know. Terrible timing,” Sally looked between the men, confused.

“Tomorrow is Elara’s 15^th birthday,” Greg said. “We were all supposed to meet up at Angelo’s to celebrate,” Sally bit her lip.

“You’re thinking,” Sherlock said, eyeing her. “What are you thinking?”

“Well, she can’t go out, but how about we bring the party to her? We can grab the food from Angelo’s and bring it here. If you don’t want people around her right now, then we can set up a video chat so she can at least see everyone,” Sally said.

“I think that’s a lovely idea, Sally,” Mycroft said from the doorway, John behind him, grinning.

“I’d be happy to pick up dinner for everyone. I’ll just need to know what to get for you three,” John said, looking to Greg, Mycroft, and Sally. Sally looked surprised.

“M-me?” She said. Mycroft furrowed his eyebrows.

“Why, yes, of course,” he said. “You didn’t think we’d shutter you away upstairs whilst we celebrated, did you?”

“Well, well, I-” John cut her off.

“That’s basically Mycroft’s way of telling you that you’ve been adopted in to our little rag-tag team here,” John said with a grin. Sally smiled warmly at Mycroft.

“In that case,” Sally said taking a deep breath. “Can I come with you tomorrow to pick up the food, John?”

“Are you sure you’re up for it?” John asked her. Sally swallowed hard, but nodded.

“Can’t hide away forever,” Sally said. “I’ll not let fear overcome my life,”

Chapter Text

Several weeks passed by and Anderson’s court case was the next day. As promised, he had been stuck in lock up since the day he’d been arrested. Sally had recovered formidably, returning to work once John had cleared her and had moved back in to her flat, which had been professionally cleaned and straightened up. Every piece of broken furniture had been replaced and Sally had a whole new wardrobe- all of her prior clothing had been torn up and had bleach tossed on to it. Mycroft never admitted it, but Sally knew that he had been the one behind it all and she could never thank him enough for everything. Sally entered her flat, locking it immediately behind her and sweeping through the entire flat, checking to ensure that she was the only one home before going to shower and change and pack an overnight bag.

Anderson was being charged with GBH and attempted murder against Sally as well as Elara, with an additional charge of child abuse and attempted abduction for his attack on Elara. Sally, Elara, John, and Sherlock were all being called to testify against the man. Mycroft and Greg had insisted that Sally stay with them that night and head to court the next morning with all of them. Just as Sally finished zipping up her overnight bag, a sleek, black car pulled up in front of her flat. Sally let out a chuckle and headed out the front door, locking up behind her as Elara exited the car.

“Hey, Sal!” Elara said, rushing to hug Sally as she approached.

“Hey, love!” Sally replied hugging her back. Elara opened the car door for Sally, ushering the woman inside before sliding in after her and shutting the door.

“So,” Sally said, turning to Elara. “What’s going down tonight?”

“Well, dad wants to go over all the possible questions we’re going to be asked tomorrow one more time just to make sure we have everything down for certain. Dad, papa, and Uncle John are going to go over with Uncle ‘Lock what he’s not allowed to do or say while on the stand,” Sally snickered, knowing the man’s proclivity to correct barristers and piss off the judges. Elara grinned over at her.

“After all that, papa is ordering pizza for us,” Elara said. “Papa told dad that he has us for two hours, then he’s rescuing us with pizza as a reward if we don’t A. Off ourselves because this is the 5,374^th time we’ve gone over the questions or B. Off dad because we’ve finally snapped from the repetitive torture of court preparations,” Sally laughed.

Over the weeks, Sally had grown close to Elara, looking after her in a protective, older sister-like way. They met up at least once- if not twice- a week for coffee and they texted daily to check in with each other, though Elara had begun to send Sally some excellent blackmail photos of Greg and Sherlock should she ever need them. Elara was truly a wonderful girl. She was smart, kind, clever, wickedly funny, and her always entertaining snark could even rival Sherlock’s on occasion. There had been one night a week or so back where Sally had thought she was going to die laughing at a crime scene when Elara and Sherlock were snarking back and forth good-naturedly to each other before John finally stepped in and put a stop to it.

“This is a crime scene,” he had scolded. “You can’t be making people laugh like this at a crime scene,”

“So, tell me,” Elara said to Sally, snapping the woman out of her thoughts. “How are you really feeling about tomorrow?” Sally let out a breath and chewed her lip nervously.

“I’m nervous, definitely,” Sally said honestly. “It scares me a little that he’ll be right there,” Elara nodded.

“But you know that you’ll be safe from him, right?” Elara asked her. Sally nodded. “Good. Besides, even if he’s stupid enough to try and do anything, he’ll have to get through dad, papa, Anthea, and about ten other of dad’s men who will be scattered throughout the courtroom,” Sally’s eyebrows hit her hairline.

“Mycroft has men?” Sally asked in awe. Elara smirked and nodded.

“Yeah. I’ve told you- and so has papa- that my dad is the British Government. Both he and Anthea are inactive MI5. All the agents that will be in the courtroom tomorrow are active MI6,” Sally’s jaw dropped.

“How- How do you live with this?” Sally asked incredulously. Elara shrugged.

“You get used to it,” Elara grinned at her wickedly. “Has no one told you that you have a security detail?” Sally made a choking noise.

“I have a what?” Sally said. Elara snickered.

“You’ve a security detail,” she replied. “Your current status is Grade Two: Active,”

“Meaning...?” Sally asked.

“Meaning that you have a constant plain clothes agent tailing you for your protection at all times,” Sally looked at Elara dumbfounded.

“What are the other levels?” She asked.

“Grade Three is just a standard surveillance, camera footage only, no active agents present unless deemed necessary. Grade One is top-tier and there is a minimum of two agents within personal range of the target at all times when they are out and about, with a further two plain clothes agents elsewhere within the immediate area,” Elara said. “We are all going to be Grade One security status beginning tomorrow and throughout the duration of the trial,” Sally let out a breath.

“Does Mycroft think something’s gonna happen tomorrow?” Sally asked nervously. Elara immediately shook her head and grasped Sally’s hand.

“Relax, Sally. Everything is going to be fine. Dad’s just mother henning. He has the mindset of hope for the best, but prepare for the worst,” Sally took a deep breath and nodded.

As Elara had told her, Mycroft took them to his study shortly after their arrival and they- once again- went over questions they were likely to be asked. Elara was eyeing Mycroft’s umbrella- that she had told Sally was actually a sword and a gun but Sally refused to believe her until she actually saw it- when Greg and John burst in to the office, their arms laden with pizza and breadsticks.

“Gregory, we are nearly finished-”

“Nope,” Greg said as he grasped Elara’s hand, pulling her up out of her chair. Elara grasped Sally’s hand and pulled her up as well before Greg began to lead them both towards the office door. “I told you two hours with the girls and then you were done. They are as prepared as they’re gonna be, My. Let them rest and unwind,” Mycroft sighed.

“I suppose you are right, love,” Greg grinned.

“C’mon darlin’. Time to eat,”

After dinner and dessert- a truly wonderful chocolate sticky toffee pudding Greg had made- John and Sherlock returned to Baker Street. The both of them were going to be picked up separately from Baker Street and meeting up with them at the courthouse. Elara had showered and asked Greg to do her hair up in a braid, leaving Mycroft and Sally downstairs.

“Are you quite alright, my dear?” Mycroft asked, topping off his and her wine glasses. Sally let out a breath.

“Elara explained to me the security details for tomorrow,” Sally glanced up at him. “She also told me that I already have a security detail?” Mycroft nodded.

“You do, yes,” he said, leaning forward and placing his wine glass on the table. “I apologize if it makes you uncomfortable. If you wish it, I can have it removed, but I implore you not to make that decision,”

“Why is that?” Sally asked him.

“You mean a lot to Gregory and to Elara. I have mentioned to you before that it is dangerous to be close to me?” Sally nodded at Mycroft’s question. “It is dangerous to even be acquainted with me, let alone be my spouse. Or my daughter,” Mycroft said, eyeing Sally curiously.

“What is your story, dear?” Mycroft asked her. Sally scoffed out a laugh.

“What, you don’t already know?” She asked with a small grin. Mycroft chuckled good-naturedly as he swirled his wine glass.

“I find that actual human experience differs from what I read in a file,” Mycroft said. Sally let out a breath.

“Not much to tell. My dad left me and mum when I was little. Mum was- Mum was there, but she wasn’t there, y’know? I had food on the table and clothes on my back, but I never had that parental connection with her for some reason. She died of an overdose shortly after I joined the NSY as an officer. Been on my own since,” she told him.

“I’m very sorry,” Mycroft said quietly. Sally shrugged.

“Thanks, but it is what it is. What happened happened, nothing will change that,” she said.

“I know nothing can change the past,” Mycroft said after a few moments. “But I’d like for us all to continue to be a part of your future,” Sally smiled at him.

“I know it was you that sorted my flat and clothes,” Sally said. “I cannot thank you enough for doing that for me,” Mycroft set his wine glass down and reached out to take Sally’s hands in his.

“Think nothing of it, my dear,” he told her. “You’ve been through quite the ordeal. If I can make something easier for you, then I intend to do so, though I do apologize if I overstepped. Gregory has told me that I tend to do that sometimes, though I honestly do not mean to do so,” Sally smiled at him, tearing up.

“You’re so kind,” Sally told him as she squeezed his hands. “You really are, Mycroft, and I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me,”

“As John put it several weeks ago, you have been officially adopted in to our group, my dear. You’re stuck with us now, I’m afraid,” Mycroft said. Sally let out a chuckle, wiping her eyes. “Come here, love,” Mycroft said, gently pulling Sally in to his arms.

Sally didn’t mean to cry, but that’s what she found herself doing as Mycroft rubbed her back and murmured to her occasionally. When she finally calmed down, Mycroft pulled out a handkerchief, handing it to her.

“Everything will be fine, Sally,” he told her as she dabbed her eyes. “Tomorrow will go smoothly and Anderson will be going away for a long time,” Sally hoped to God he was right.

Chapter Text

7:45 AM saw Sally being quickly ushered in to the back of the courthouse by Mycroft’s security, closely followed by Elara, Mycroft, Greg, Sherlock, and John. She had slept fitfully the night before and couldn’t wait for this all to be over. The security team lead them all to a quiet room off the courtroom where the witnesses were to be kept until they testified.

“Right,” Greg said to Sally and Elara. “Mycroft and I are going to watch the proceedings, unless you would like one or both of us to stay with you?” Elara looked at Sally, who smiled at her.

“We’ll be okay,” Elara told him. “We’ve got Uncle ‘Lock and Uncle John here with us,” Greg nodded.

“If at any time either of you change your minds, text me and one of us will come back here,” Mycroft told them and they both nodded.

“We will,” Sally told him. Mycroft reached out and cupped her cheek before engulfing Sally in a hug.

“Everything will be fine,” he told her. Greg took his turn, though his hug was more of a bear hug.

“Sir, proceedings are about to begin,” Anthea said, popping her head in to the room. Mycroft nodded at her.

“Thank you, Anthea. We will be there presently,” he told her before turning to Elara and pulling his daughter in to his arms.

“Remember what I told you,” he murmured in her ear. “If you get frightened by him, you look at me or Gregory. Ask for a break if you need it. I love you, little one,”

“I love you too, daddy,” she said back, releasing him and turning to Greg, who hugged her as well as planting a kiss on her head.

“There’s my brave girl. You’ll do so well. This’ll all be over before you know it. I love you, sunshine,” Greg said.

“I love you too, papa,” Mycroft and Greg turned to bid luck and goodbyes to John and Sherlock before taking their leave.

“So, now we wait?” John asked. Sherlock nodded, taking a seat.

“Now we wait,”

John had brought along a deck of cards as well as a couple of different board games to occupy them while they waited to be called. After nearly an hour, Sherlock was called to testify.

“What are you going to do?” John asked him, grasping Sherlock’s biceps in his hands as he rested his forehead on Sherlock’s.

“Answer the questions quickly and factually,” Sherlock replied.

“And what are you not going to do?”

“I’m not going to be clever. I’m not going to verbally deduce anyone. And I’m not going to snark off to the judge,”

“Very good. I do not want to bail you out for contempt of court again,”

“I understand, John,” Sherlock said, kissing John on the forehead.

“Love you, ‘Lock,” John said. Sherlock smiled and kissed John.

“And I love you, John,” he said before leaving the room with the court officer.

“That,” Sally said, “was adorable,” Elara snickered as John’s cheeks flushed pink.

“Shut up,” he muttered without any malice. Sally grinned.

“What’s wrong, John?” She teased. “Shall we start singing about you both snogging in a tree?” Elara snorted and John rolled his eyes.

“Right, Elara, I believe it’s your turn to draw?” John said, returning to their card game.

Sherlock returned after half an hour and John was called to the stand next. As discussed with Mycroft, they did not ask Sherlock any questions, but he gave an encouraging smile at them as he sat down to take John’s place. After another forty-five minutes, John returned and it was Elara’s turn. Elara was gone for over an hour and Sally was beginning to worry. Just when John nearly had to step in, Elara returned with Mycroft, Greg, and Anthea.

“They’re breaking for lunch,” Mycroft told them. “When we reconvene afterwards, it will be your turn, Sally,” Sally let out a shuddery breath.

“It’ll be alright, Sally,” Elara told her, hugging the woman. “I promise,”

“Come along,” Mycroft told them. “Let’s go and get some lunch,”

Mycroft took them all to a bistro not too far away from the courthouse, but Sally did more pushing her food around then eating it, much to the dismay of the others. When they returned to the courthouse, John pressed a bottle of water in to Sally’s hands.

“Drink, please,” he told her. “You didn’t eat much of breakfast or lunch and I don’t want you dehydrated,”

“How do you know I didn’t eat much of breakfast?” Sally asked him.

“I live with a Holmes. I’ve picked up a few things over the years,” he told her. “Also, Greg told me earlier,” Sally let out a laugh that sounded borderline hysterical.

“Easy, Sal,” Greg said, resting a hand on her shoulder. “John, Sherlock, and Elara are going to stay back here with you and walk with you to the courtroom and they’ll be in the room unless you don’t want them to be,”

“No, no, they can stay,” Sally said with a grateful smile towards them all.

“Alright. Gregory and I need to return to the gallery. We will see you all in a few minutes,” Mycroft said, hugging both girls with Greg following suit before taking their leave.

The next few minutes passed slowly, but quickly, and the court officer finally came to retrieve Sally. Elara took Sally’s left hand. Sherlock took Sally’s right hand, and John took Sherlock’s other hand. The four of them- in a line hand-in-hand- the four agents detailed to them, and the court officer all walked together towards the courtroom.

“Are you ready?” Sherlock asked her. Sally swallowed hard, but nodded. Sherlock squeezed her hand and Elara pulled her in to a hug.

“You’ll be brilliant, Sally, you will. Everything will be fine,” John hugged her next.

“Good luck, Sally. We’ll be in the gallery with Anthea, Mycroft, and Greg. You just look at us if you get scared, alright? Don’t show him you’re afraid. It gives him power. You hold the power now, Sally. Nobody else,” Sally sniffed and nodded, bidding them goodbye as they walked towards the main entrance of the courtroom. Sally took several deep breaths, steeling herself for what was about to happen.

“You ready, love?” The kindly old court officer asked her. Sally looked to him and nodded after a moment.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready,” he clapped a hand on her shoulder.

“Right, then, love,” he said, opening the door for her. “Knock ‘em dead,”

Chapter Text

“Ms. Donovan, will you please tell the court what happened the night of September 14^th?” The barrister asked her. Sally took a breath, glancing at the audience and locating Greg, Mycroft, Anthea, Elara, John, and Sherlock. Upon further investigation, she also saw D.I. Dimmock, the landlady of John and Sherlock’s- Mrs. Hudson- and even Molly Hooper.

“Yes, sir. I got off work around 9:00 PM. I entered my flat and went to get ready for bed. I had no idea that Philip Anderson was already in my flat,” Sally said.

“Now, did you give Mr. Anderson permission to be in your flat?”

“No, sir,” Sally answered. “He did not have permission to be in my flat that night, nor do I know how he got in to my flat, as he was never given a key,”

“Thank you, Ms. Donovan. You may continue,”

“When I walked in to my bedroom, a hand clamped around my wrist,”

Sally yelped as a hand grabbed her wrist with a bruising grip, yanking her backwards and turning her around. Philip Anderson stood before her.

“Philip?” Sally gasped out. “What- what are you doing here? H-how did- How did you get in?” The grip tightened and Sally whimpered.

“What have I told you about questioning me?”

“N-not- not to,” she ground out. Philip backhanded her and she tumbled to the floor.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he stated. Sally attempted to scramble off the floor, but was stopped when his boot collided with her side.

“N-not- on- pur-purpose,” Sally lied. Another kick.

“Liar!” Philip spat out, kicking her lamp over.

Sally incurred a barrage of hits and kicks, curling in on herself to protect herself as Philip raged around her flat, upsetting furniture, breaking glasses, yanking her clothes from her closet and ripping them up.

“P-Philip, please,” she gasped out biting back a cry of pain at the sharp pain she was feeling in her side. “Please, just-” his hand clamped around her throat and tightened quickly, leaving Sally unable to breathe.

“Shut up,” he snarled.

Sally struggled to get him to release her so she could breathe. Finally, she used what little strength she had left to knee him in the groin. As soon as his grip around her throat loosened, she clawed out of his grasp and ran from the bedroom to where she had left her mobile on the entryway table. As soon as she retrieved the device, Philip grabbed her and flung her aside. Sally’s face struck the table and she collapsed to the ground, still and unmoving.

When she woke, she was unsure as of how much time had passed, but she knew she needed help. She thought back to her conversation with the girl- Elara- who had accompanied Sherlock and John to a few crime scenes over the last week-and-a-half. The girl spoke well beyond her years and offered Sally a lifeline should she need it. Sally knew in that moment that she needed it, pulling out her mobile and texting Elara the letters she had told Sally to text.

VC - SD

“Sherlock and E.C. came and found me in my bathroom,” Sally said, using the initials she had been told to use for Elara, as she was still a minor and had her identity protected. “Sherlock helped me to the cab and they got me to St. Bart’s where the medical team there took over. I don’t really remember much after that,” the prosecutor nodded.

“And that team was led by Doctor John Watson, correct?” He asked her. She nodded.

“Yes, sir, it was,” she told him.

“What were your injuries sustained from the attack?”

“I had a bad concussion. They were worried I had sustained fractures to the bones in my face because the swelling to my left eye and cheek were so bad, but I thankfully didn’t. I also had three broken ribs, a sprained wrist, severe bruising to my throat as well as hemorrhaging in my eyes from where I had been choked, and I had bruising and lacerations all over my body, all in different stages of healing,” she told the court, trying not to look at the screen that was displaying photographs of the multitude of injuries she had received.

“And, when you were released from hospital, did you return back to your flat?” Sally shook her head.

“No, sir, not right away. For my own safety- and due to my flat being completely destroyed- I stayed at an undisclosed location with trusted friends while my flat got cleaned up and I was able to heal to where Doctor Watson was comfortable with me being by myself again,”

“And how long did it take for you to be able to move back to your own flat?”

“I returned to my flat after two weeks,” Sally told him. “My flat had been restored within a week, but I needed a little extra time to heal and feel safe returning to my flat by myself again,”

“Thank you, Ms. Donovan,” the prosecutor said before looking towards the defence lawyer. “Your witness,”

Sally glanced over at the defence lawyer, who was beginning to stand. As he stood, Sally made- unintentionally- direct eye contact with Anderson, who gave her the most intimidating glare he could muster. Sally bit back a shudder, feeling her heart beginning to race. She broke eye contact with the man and looked directly over to where Mycroft and Greg were seated. She made eye contact with Mycroft, who nodded at her ever so slightly. Sally took a deep breath and steeled herself.

“Ms. Donovan, what was the nature of your relationship with Mr. Anderson?” The lawyer asked her.

“We met at work, sir,” Sally said, keeping eye contact with Mycroft. “We dated off and on through the years,”

“Right. And during your liaisons, you knew Mr. Anderson was married, correct?”

“Objection. Relevance,” the prosecutor said immediately. The defense lawyer smirked.

“Withdrawn. Ms. Donovan, what led up to the events of September 14^th?” Sally cocked an eyebrow. She really did not like this man.

“That’s a rather broad question, sir,” he chuckled.

“Indeed. I’ll clarify: What was done on your part to push Mr. Anderson to what you are accusing him of?” Sally flinched slightly.

“Your Honor!” The prosecutor cried.

“Mr. Lochlan, you will conduct yourself in a manner better suited for this court and when talking to a witness. This is not the first time you have been warned about this, but it will be the last, or you shall find yourself off this case and held in contempt. Do you understand me?” The defense attourney- Lochlan- smiled a simpering smile.

“Of course, Your Honor. Apologies,” he turned to Sally, who hid her shaking hands in her lap.

“The objection is sustained,” the judge said glancing over at Sally. “Ms. Donovan, do you think you can continue, or do you need a break?” Sally took a deep breath and locked eyes- purposefully this time- with Anderson in a glare.

“I am ready to continue, Your Honor,” she said in a steady, firm voice. The judge nodded kindly at her before turning to Lochlan.

“Remember my warning,” he told him sternly. Lochlan turned to Sally.

“Why are you here today, Ms. Donovan?” Sally turned to him.

“I am here today, not just for my justice, but for every woman that Mr. Anderson may have harmed in the past. I’m here for any potential future victims of his. I am here today for every man, woman, and child who have gone through the horrors of domestic abuse. Today, I make my stand. Today, I set an example for others. Today, I let my abuser know that I hold the power now. Today, I set myself free by taking the freedom of the man who does not deserve it. Today, I take back my life,”

Sally made direct eye contact with Anderson and smirked, who paled. Lochlan looked startled at her words. In the gallery, Mycroft smiled proudly at Sally. He knew that, with Sally’s words, Anderson’s fate was now sealed.

Lochlan quickly dismissed Sally after that and she made her way to the gallery and sat down in between Sherlock and Elara. Elara hugged her side and Sherlock took her hand, giving it a light squeeze. Greg, Mycroft, and John smiled over at her. They all listened as the prosecution and the defence gave their closing statements, the prosecutor reiterating how Anderson nearly killed, both, Elara and Sally, detailing how every future partner and child would be in grave danger if he were to be found innocent. The defence, of course, made Elara out to be a klutzy liar and Sally to be an adulterous whore who could not be trusted. The judge then retired the jury for deliberation and the group went back to the witness room, where Sally immediately broke down.

“Easy, Sally,” Greg said, catching her gently and leading her to the sofa, sitting her down and taking a seat next to her. “What that dick said is utter rubbish. Don’t you think on it, Sal. Not for one second, love,” a mug of tea was pressed in to her hand by John and Mycroft handed her his handkerchief once she finally began to settle down.

“S-sorry guys,” she choked out. Mycroft took her hand.

“You need not apologize, dear,” he said, sitting on her other side, “not for this. Your reaction is completely natural,”

“This’ll all be over soon, Sally,” Elara said as she knelt down in front of her. “Everything will work out fine,”

“And even if- in the rare chance- Mr. Anderson does get off, I can personally assure you that you will never see nor have to worry about him ever again,” Mycroft told her. She eyed him suspiciously.

“You- you aren’t going to have him killed, are you?” She asked hesitantly.

“Do you want me to?” Mycroft asked her seriously. Sally’s eyes widened slightly.

“You, uh-” she said. “You’re a bit scary, you know?” Mycroft smirked.

“Relax, Sal,” Greg said. “Nobody is getting killed,”

“Yeah, he’ll just be disappeared to another continent never to be heard from again,” Elara said. Greg and Mycroft rolled their eyes and Sally snorted. They sat there for nearly two hours, chatting about this and that and what they should have for dinner when the court officer popped his head in to the room.

“The jury has reached a decision. I’ll lead you all back if you’re ready,”

Much like before, Elara took Sally’s right hand and Greg took her left hand. Sherlock took Elara’s right hand and John took his other hand. Mycroft- needing to keep up appearances- walked ahead of them with Anthea, the security officer and two agents led them all- with the other two agents heading up the back of the group. They made it back to the gallery and took their seats.

“I understand that the jury has reached a decision?” The judge asked. The foreman stood and nodded.

“We have, Your Honor,” she said. The judge nodded.

“Very well. Philip Anderson, you’ll stand up for the reading of the verdicts,” Anderson stood on slightly shaking legs. “For Count One of Grievous Bodily Harm against a minor, how do you find?”

“We, the jury, find Philip Anderson guilty,”

“For Count Two of Attempted Murder against a minor, how do you find?”

“We the jury, find the defendant, Philip Anderson, guilty,”

For Count Three of Attempted Abduction of a minor, how do you find?”

“We find the defendant, Philip Anderson, guilty,”

“For Count Four of Child Abuse, how do you find?”

“We find the defendant, Philip Anderson, guilty,”

“For Count Five of Grievous Bodily Harm against Sally Donovan, how do you find?”

“We find the defendant, Philip Anderson, guilty,”

“And, finally, for Count Six of Attempted Murder against Sally Donovan, how do you find?”

“We find the defendant, Philip Anderson, guilty,” the judge nodded once.

“The King’s Court would like to thank the jury for their service, you are all dismissed. Philip Anderson, you will be remanded to His Majesty’s Prison Belmarsh whilst you await your sentencing,” Anderson paled dramatically.

“No, no! You can’t do that! You can’t send me there!” Anderson screeched. The judge banged his gavel.

“Mr. Lochlan, control your client!” Anderson whipped around to the gallery and sought out Sally.

“You bitch! You did this! You and that brat girl! You’ll both regret this! Mark my words!”

Greg and Sherlock immediately stood and placed themselves in between Sally and Anderson while John did the same with Elara. The court officers entered the room and dragged Anderson out, who was snarling threats to Sally and Elara. Mycroft glared the man down with the most severe look he had ever given to another person. The judge adjourned the court and everyone dispersed. Mrs. Hudson and Molly made their way towards the group, engulfing Elara in hugs before turning to Sally and doing the same. After giving Elara and Sally their congratulations and well-wishes, Mycroft turned to them.

“Ladies, we are headed out to dinner, would you care to join us?”

Chapter Text

Sally Donovan glanced up from her notebook and saw Sherlock and Elara approaching the crime scene.

“Hey, guys, got a good one for you today, Sherlock,” Sally said, holding the crime scene tape up for them. “Where’s John?”

“He took a shift for someone at Bart’s,” Elara told her as Sherlock scoffed.

“Dull,” he said. Elara snorted and rolled her eyes as she watched Sherlock pounce off towards the body.

“So, the new Forensics Officer working alright for you?” Elara asked Sally. Sally nodded.

“Oh, yeah, she’s great. She works well with Sherlock, even. Finds him charming,” Sally said with a shudder as Elara snickered. “I think she fancies him,”

“She’s about to be very disappointed, then,” Elara said. Sally furrowed her eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” Elara grinned and nodded to where Sherlock was arguing with Greg.

“What do you mean he was killed by his gay lover?” Greg demanded. “You’ve gotta give me more to go on than this, Sherlock,” Sherlock huffed out an irritated sigh.

“As always, Graham, you see, but you do not observe,” Sherlock said exasperated. Greg rolled his eyes.

“Then, please, Your Majesty, by all means, do tell me what you’ve observed,” Greg snarked back. Sherlock opened his mouth, but was cut off by an unexpected voice.

“Well, it’s his wedding ring, isn’t it?” Sherlock’s head snapped to where John was slowly removing the crime scene coveralls. “It’s always the wedding ring. It’s dirty, he never cared to clean it. His lover wanted him to leave his wife, but he wouldn’t do it, likely because he would have lost everything. He likely strung his lover along, promising something he would never give. When his lover saw the wedding ring still on his finger, he snapped. Bashed the poor sod’s head in with what appears to be a lead pipe that was likely chucked away a few alleys down. Based on the angle of the hit, you’re looking for a man, about six feet, four inches as he was a fair bit taller than your victim,” John said. Greg gawked at him.

“You got all that from his wedding ring?” Greg asked. John smirked, approaching Sherlock.

“Always the wedding ring?” Sherlock said with a soft smile.

“Always the wedding ring,” John confirmed, pulling out a box and dropping to one knee. Sally gasped quietly and began to lightly smack Elara on the arm. Elara snickered at her antics and shoved her away slightly.

“Sherlock Holmes, when I met you, I was so very alone. You breathed in to me a new life, a new reason to live. We have had our ups and downs over the years, but we have always come out on top. I love you, Sherlock. I have since that bloody night at Angelo’s. I loved you when you saved me from Moriarty at the pool. I loved you when you took the fall for me. I loved you when you stayed with me for days after the deaths of Mary and our child. I finally told you when your sister had us captive, and I will continue to say it until the day I die. So, Sherlock Holmes, will you marry me?”

“John Watson,” Sherlock said, caressing John’s cheek. “I would be honored,” he pulled John on to his feet and snogged him like his life depended on it.

“Yes,” Sherlock said, pulling away. “Yes, I will marry you, John,”

John grinned like a loon and slid the ring on to Sherlock’s finger and kissed his genius again. The NSY personnel all broke in to applause, sans the new forensic officer who had a mild scowl on her face, which Elara happily pointed out to Sally, who burst out laughing. John and Sherlock made their way over to them, hand-in-hand. Sherlock cocked an eyebrow at Elara.

“You and John have been plotting, bee,” Elara smiled innocently up at her uncle.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Elara replied. Sherlock grinned and pulled Elara in to his side.

“So, was he right, then?” Sally asked Sherlock, nodding to John. Sherlock grinned.

“Of course he was,” Sherlock told her. “You’ll find the pipe three alleys down, stuffed in to a bin. The shoe prints of the lover will be found in the rubbish sludge. Find the shoes, find your murderer,” Sally grinned at him as Greg approached them, smiling.

“Well, it’s about time,” he said, clapping Sherlock and John on the shoulders. “Congratulations, you two, really,”

“Ta, mate,” John said, grinning.

“Thanks for the assist, John,” Greg said, smiling. “You two get out of here. I’ll take Elara home with me,”

“You’ll send me the video?” John asked him. Greg grinned.

“’Course, mate! I’ll get it to you here shortly. Go on and have fun,” Sally and Elara bid them both goodbye and Greg turned to Sally. “You got this from here, Sal? I’d like to take Elara home,” Greg asked her.

“’Course,” she told him. “I’ll send forensics over to sweep the alleys. It’ll be pretty easy to find the culprit once we get the shoe prints,” Greg and Elara chatted with Sally for a few minutes more before saying their goodbyes and getting in to Greg’s car and heading home. Mycroft met them at the door.

“I trust John’s proposal went well?” Mycroft asked them, hugging them both.

“Oh, yeah. It was great! I’ve got a video,” Greg said, waving his mobile in his hand. Mycroft smiled and turned to Elara, pulling an envelope from inside his suit jacket.

“This came for you today, little one,” Elara’s eyes widened as she took the envelope from him.

“My GCSE results!” She exclaimed as she tore open the envelope.

“Well, how’d you do!?” Greg asked after a few moments. Elara grinned madly, handing the papers to her fathers.

“Nine!” Elara proudly proclaimed. Mycroft and Greg swept her in to their arms.

“Well done, sunshine,” Greg said. “I knew you’d do well,”

“We are so proud of you, Elara,” Mycroft told her, kissing her head as well. “Congratulations, little one,”

Elara giggled and snuggled deeper in to her fathers’ arms. Seven years ago, she would never have thought that this would be her life. A loving family was something she never saw herself having. There were many nights that she thought she may not survive. Elara now had everything she could ever want. And, now that she had passed her GCSE’s, she was excited to apply to medical school when she was permitted to do so. Elara Carissa Holmes-Lestrade was far from done with the adventure that was now her life. And she intended to make every second count, for her, and for everyone else.