The Red Queen

AN/: This is a sequel to my earlier story. It's known under two names, "Safe and Sound" on and "Her Name is Alice" on AO3. I would recommend that you read that first.

This chapter is a little long winded. It had a lot of things that had to happen, so it may be a little boring. I'm hoping that you'll keep up with it, that you'll enjoy it, and that you wont kill me for the end...

This, the first chapter, is dedicated to Arty Diane. Thank you for your continued support! I hope you like it!

~ ~ My Immortal ~ ~

"It will be beneficial to you." Mycroft's words drifted over her, largely ignored. Her eyes focused on nothing, staring blankly into the nothingness before her. The clatter of the everyday customers of Speedy's was muffled, barely heard and completely ignored.

Sitting opposite her, her only remaining family member sighed softly. "Alice." It was perhaps, the most caring tone that she had ever heard from the man. Never during her childhood had he talked to her like this, not even when he'd rescued them from her father's clutches. Always he had been businesslike, even talking to his much younger sister.

He repeated her name, and her blue eyes flickered to his then away again. "Don't." She said quietly. The first word that she'd said to him after her heated outburst at the funeral. "Just... Don't Mycroft. Don't pretend to suddenly care. You never did before." Shaking her head, she stood.

"I thank you for your financial assistance thus-far, however henceforth I will be no longer requiring it. No. I do require it. I just don't want it." Hands resting on the table in front of her, she finally made eye contact with him. "Right now, I don't want to be around you. It's your fault that Moriarty knew enough about Lock to be convincing. It's your fault that he managed to -to get Sherlock to look like he'd made a fool of everyone. It's your fault. The only reason I'm even talking to you right now is that you are all that I have left. You are the only blood kin that I have. But you are not my brother. You have never been my brother."

"Alice-" The look on Mycroft's face was a mix between astonishment and anger.

"No. You've tried in your own way. I get that. But money isn't enough, Mycroft. You were never there for either of us." She shook her head and straightened up. "I'm angry. I'm angry at you, I'm angry at Lock. Just- just leave me alone. For a while at least." She turned then, not giving him enough time to reply as she stormed out into the grey day leaving her older brother sitting alone in a crowded diner.

~ ~ My Immortal ~ ~

The seventeen steps leading up to 221b had never seemed so daunting. In the very short distance between Speedy's and her front door, Alice had somehow managed to get completely soaked through. The steady beat of falling drops landing on the ground permeated the eerie quiet.

It wasn't the same now, it was too quiet. No gunshots, no exploding beakers, no startled or excited shouts. Now it was just the two of them things were far quieter. Taking a breath, Alice made her way slowly up the stairs, leaving small puddles of London rain water behind her.

The door slid open under her hand, silently swinging into the room. Following through, she saw John sat on the couch and smiled sheepishly at him. "I may need to move out soon." She told him as she peeled off her coat. Hanging it in the kitchen she looked mournfully at the clean room.

It had only once been that clean before- for her birthday all those months ago. The very next day it had been littered with mess of all kinds. Now, it was rarely anything other than clean.

"Why is that?" John asked, putting the paper down to watch as she removed her outer clothing, leaving her under layers on. Her long sleeved black shirt clung to her skin, resting over her dark trousers.

Dropping her saturated dress on the linoleum floor in the kitchen she sighed. "I sort of just kinda told Mycroft to take his money and shove it." She said as she wandered through the front room to the linen cupboard. A towel was pulled out and wrapped around her while she headed back into the living room. Sitting next to John and pointedly avoiding using the arm chairs, she vigorously rubbed her hair dry.

"Well, you can always move back upstairs." John said quietly, "Sherlock-" Alice politely ignored how John's breath hitched when he said her brother's name. Neither of them liked the reminder, "Sherlock always paid in advance. So his half of the rent is covered for another month yet." He swallowed thickly and forced a smile. "And I've picked up extra shifts at the clinic, so I'm sure we can sort something out for you."

Pausing in her movements, Alice stared at John for a moment before smiling. "Thank you." It was the first genuine smile that she had managed in a long time.

~ ~ My Immortal ~ ~

The downstairs unit was cold and dark. Alice felt at home there for the time being. Stepping over a beaker she let her eyes scan the room.

All of Sherlock's experiments lay exactly where he had left them. Only the ones that required immediate action had been touched -and those had been carried on rather than abandoned. She just couldn't bring herself to destroy the last part of her brother she had.

Sunset found her sitting in the centre of her living room, surrounded by half completed experiments, full beakers and scientific equipment. Curling in on herself, she pulled her knees to her chest and lay her forehead upon them, eyes still scanning the room. Eventually, she allowed the tears to fall.

~ ~ My Immortal ~ ~

The days passed in a haze like dream. Nothing really mattered and the small details that she would normally pay such close attention to simply drifted by. Soon, it was Saturday – One month exactly from the death of Sherlock Holmes.

Alice closed her black long coat over her maroon dress. Wrapping a red scarf around her neck she turned and smiled sadly at John. He was wearing his usual leather jacket and dark trousers, a forlorn look on his face.

Linking her arm in his, she lead him quietly down the stairs.

Their silence was broken only by the dictation to the cab driver to take them to the cemetery. Both absorbed in their own thoughts and taking a small comfort in each other's presence. Once they arrived, the once again linked arms and stepped up to the grave.

Neither of them really saw the point in bringing flowers, and they both knew that Sherlock wouldn't care either way. He hadn't exactly been a sentimental man.

Glancing to her right, Alice noticed John had his face in his hand. His shoulders were jerking lightly and his body shaking with silent sobs. Putting her arm around him, she pulled him closer, holding him while her own tears fell.

~ ~ My Immortal ~ ~

"Dear, there's somebody here to see you." Mrs. Hudson spoke as Alice stepped through the threshold of 221. She turned and smiled in thanks to her before stepping up into 221b. "Hello, Mycroft." She said without looking at him. Taking off her coat she hung it along with her scarf and kicked off her heels.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" She asked sourly, noting that Mycroft was sat in Sherlock's arm chair. Sitting on the sofa she glowered at Mycroft.

Not taking his own eyes off his umbrella Mycroft spoke, his hands idly playing with the handle. "I refuse," He began, his quiet voice still as strong as ever. "to allow you to struggle for finances when I am more than capable of helping."

"I told you, Mycroft," Alice said, "I don't want your help."

"Regardless. I will not allow you the stress of struggling. I couldn't do anything else for you. I still can't." He lifted his eyes and looked at Alice. "Let me do this for you at least. Even if you wish to have nothing else to do with me. Allow me this."

It was then that she noticed. His eyes held something that she'd never seen in them before. Behind the grey was a dull pain, one that she was sure was mirrored in her own. His body was held a little too deliberately, his back a little too straight. His fingers still hadn't stopped toying with the umbrella in his possession and she finally understood.

All her life, she had been told that there was something different about Sherlock, that his mind was wired differently and that he couldn't form the same complex emotions that other, more normal people, could. Growing up, she had been told time and time again that her brother was wired wrong, that he couldn't love. But she knew better. She knew that he loved in his own way- he'd loved her, he'd loved John, he'd even held an affection for Mycroft.

Herself growing up, she hadn't been able to make the emotional connections that she'd witnessed in her peers, and she'd simply believed that she was like Sherlock. Mycroft, however, had always seemed completely normal.

Now she realized that he wasn't. He'd loved his siblings and the fact that he hadn't been there to save them, that he hadn't realized for so very long, it killed him inside. But he'd had to stay at school for this very reason- so that he could support them throughout their adulthood. It was the only way he knew how to show his love for them.

And she was rejecting that.

Suddenly, Alice wasn't so angry any more. Mycroft had made a mistake-it wasn't something that he was known for, but she knew that it did happen. He'd made a mistake, and it had cost him his brother, and now, it was costing him his sister. He was struggling to adapt just as much as she was, and now she understood that.

Sighing and sagging a little, Alice looked away. "No." She said quietly, continuing before Mycroft could fully form an idea. "I'll let you take care of me, me and John both. But I want to make an effort to get to know you, Mycroft. You're the only brother that I have left-the only family. And I don't know a thing about you. Not the real you. So you and me, we're going to have weekly meetings. Lunch."

Grinning as she noticed the luck of utter astonishment, Alice nodded once and stood. "Tea?" She offered, knowing that now, things would be a little different.

Mycroft would be a wonderful resource for her Wonderland.

~ ~ My Immortal ~ ~

Some days were easier than others. Some days, Alice saw John smile, as fleeting and small as they were, they were comforting. Some days, he would talk with her, have a chat about the weather, or sometimes the topic was Mycroft's politics. Some days, John would join her when she went to the shops, or on a walk.

But most days were bad. Most days, John sat alone in the flat, staring at the wall. He would often be unresponsive, a silent figure in a darkened night. During the first few weeks, Alice had tried to cheer him up, talking to him, offering him tea, cleaning for him, but nothing had worked.

After the first few weeks, she had given up on that, knowing that it wouldn't do any good. All she could do on the bad days was sit in the corner, waiting for him to snap out of it. She made sure that there was always a cup of hot tea sitting ready for him when he came too.

He was seeing a therapist, Alice knew, but it didn't seem to be helping.

Then one day, several months after Sherlock's death, her computer beeped. The new email told her of an entry to his blog.

"He was my best friend and I'll always believe in him."

~ ~ My Immortal ~ ~

The office was newly decorated. An ironic shade of yellow was upon the walls, making the room seem like a brighter and happier place. Alice found it funny, considering that this was where she made all her decisions regarding Wonderland and the people that needed to die in order for it to continue running.

Today as she walked into the room, her heals clicking on the ground, she knew that something was wrong. Not showing it, she simply strode into her new office and looked up from the reports she was reading to regard the man in her chair. She was already in a bad mood- the reports telling her of her agent in France showing up dead in a ditch.

"The last person that sat there, didn't last very long." She warned him, taking him in.

His dark hair was cropped short, a typical military cut. The straight posture, the way he kept his arms close to himself while looking completely relaxed- yes. Definitely military. The scar across his nose was old, at least ten years and he didn't seem to have any newer scars. The age of the scar spoke of the length of time since he'd been in active service- at least ten years.

"Mister Moran." She greeted him with a nod, "You're in my chair."

~ ~ My Immortal ~ ~

AN/:

Sorry for the cliffhanger, but that seemed like the perfect place to finish things. This story is going to be more Alice centric than the other, since she's taken over Moriarty's web, now known as Wonderland.

I would absolutely LOVE to hear any feedback. I adore it and it drives me to write more. So please, do review. Especially if you want expedience on the next chapter.