Title: Spero melior - I hope for better things

Authors: Kessie

Characters/Pairings: Sherlock, Sally, Mycroft. John, Anthea, Lestrade, OCs leading to slight Sherlock/John, slight Sally/Mycroft

Rating: just to be sure: M/ NC 17

Status: over 30000 words already, still writing, but will be completed soon

Warnings: Warnings for mentions of non con and violence. Mention of Child abuse! ( see rating!) And language of course. Its Donovan. Lots of drama, but also some silliness…

Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to the BBC, ACD, Moffat and Gatiss. No copyright infringement intended.

Summary: Sally just couldn´t believe her luck: not only had she gotten herself confused with the women she had been trying to safe from the human traffickers, no, she even had managed to get herself captured by a man who was supposed to be dead. A man, who probably hated her guts and even had all the right to do it.

Thanks to Archea for beta reading this part!

Chapter 1

Life, thought Sally, could be weird sometimes. Just when you thought that, finally, you had situation and your place and all that figured out, it would come and throw something completely unexpected at you. And it would do so with great glee and fun and take all of the oh so carefully claimed ground from under you. In Sally´s case the newest "something" had been the woman who just had run up to her while she had been jogging near the Thames a few hours ago.

Had she known what she was in for, she would have run and requested backup instantly. Needless to say, she didn't.

It had been her first complete free weekend in ages and Sally had been determined to exercise at least bit before she let herself relax. Damn all these takeaways and pastries recently- but then again, a job at the Yard never left much time for cooking. So she had driven to the Thames and started jogging, cursing the god-awful London weather as a terrified woman caught her eye. It hadn´t taken a genius to see that she needed help, since she was crying and practically hyperventilating, and Sally of course had immediately jumped into cop mode, trying to help. Sadly, the dark skinned woman had hardly spoken English and it had been hard to grasp what was happening. Sally understood something about a warehouse and some guys, but the rest had been strange words she never heard before. An African language perhaps? Sally guessed as the woman was dark skinned, thin and looked like refugee.
She only understood how right she had been when she went to look at said warehouse and got captured, while the African woman probably already had run off. She had told her to stay put while she investigated the warehouse which was around the corner. She had expected a robbery or maybe an accident from one of the workers in the warehouses but not this: The two men didn't even seem to realize that they had recaptured the wrong women. That was probably because Sally was also in sweatpants and a loose jacket and of course, she guessed, the right skin colour. Nevertheless it became quite clear instantly that she had walked into a trap, literally. And to make the misery complete, she had left her mobile phone in her car.

So much for a peaceful run near the Thames, Sally thought, and cursed her luck once more.

As she had no choice but to be dragged further into the warehouse by the two armed goons who had caught her while she tried to peek through the window, Sally decided to assess the situation. So far she could make out there were at least four other men, all armed, who barely looked at them when they had entered. The warehouse was stacked with shipping containers, which upon further examination seemed to have people in them. Most of them were really dark skinned, African mostly, she guessed, and some looked like they could come from India or the Middle East. It didn't take Sally long to figure out that she had walked straight into a human traffickers' operation.

Cursing her luck, she once again tried to find a way to escape but found none since the criminal to her right still had a gun at her temple. The other was just holding her arm, but since both were also at least 15 centimetres bigger than her, she wouldn't have stood a chance against them without the gun. While the other men had at least normal figures, these two had muscles like bodyguards or something like that. So she complied and let herself be led to the "Boss", as the two thugs helpfully supplied, vowing to stay at home next free weekend, definitely.

Cause if that's what you got when you went out? Damn you for wanting to exercise.

That didn't stop her from cursing at the bad guys though. A Donovan didn't let herself be captured without resisting! Nevertheless she carefully watched the guys, not wanting to be killed instantly. But at least she could direct her anger at the persons that deserved it and it helped her to stay calm.

The thugs made her stop in front of a door and actually knocked, which seemed a little weird to Sally. Seconds later she was shoved into the room in front of a tall, skinny, ginger-haired haired guy, who (once she took a look at his face) made her nearly loose her footing.

What the fuck? This couldn´t be! Maybe he had a twin brother with a reddish hair or something? And a beard. The hair was a bit longer, but still curly...

No, it was a Doppelganger for sure!

There was no way this could be Sherlock bloody Holmes! He had died more than one and a half year earlier, damn it. And yes, it had been partly her fault, but this now? Maybe fate was having fun with her. Help in the suicide of a Consulting detective and get killed by one of his freaky criminal counterparts!

Or if this really was Sherlock, then...

The voices of the men pulled her out of her thoughts. They were talking about her punishment and Sally´s heart literally plummeted to somewhere close to her feet.

"Take her to the corner and secure her. I´m in charge here, so I get to decide the punishment!" the strange Sherlock double told the others, and Sally´s thoughts started racing again. Yes the voice was actually somewhat similar, but it couldn't be, could it?

She still refused to believe it!

Nevertheless the consulting detective, or whatever he was, ignored her shock and, in reply to the men's questions, announced that he was going to have fun with her, as she at least was a pretty one. The men laughed and Sally´s panic rose.

No. Please no.

No please not again. No...

The Flashback came when she was still trying to fight the men who cuffed her to the radiator in the corner.

"SAAAALLLYYY!" It was a bellow and she tried to shrink into herself, making no noise, although she knew that hiding the in the cupboard wouldn't help her one bit. He would find her anyway. And it would probably earn her a beating. "SALLLYY!" the man bellowed again, and before she could even start to crawl the cupboard door was opened and she was grabbed harshly and pressed down onto the floor.

Back in present time, she found herself cuffed to both sides of the radiator with no room to pull away or shift back. The men were laughing heartily now, while she tried to see through tears which she couldn't stop, no matter how hard she tried.

The ginger-haired Sherlock just seemed to watch her, bellowing orders and shoving the men out of the room. Then they were alone and the man came over to her.

"Sally."

Sherlock.

The voice.

She had heard it often enough, she´d know it anywhere.

It was Sherlock.

He wasn't dead.

And he was going to rape her.

"Oh come on stop crying you little idiot. You were made for this, you know that! You´re way too stupid for anything else. And I know you like it as well. All women do." He shoved her head into the pillows until she had a problem breathing for a few seconds. Sally still tried to shove him away, although it had already happened lots of times and she knew that, being a child, she stood no chance...

Undead Sherlock was now directly in front of her. In her panic she hadn't even heard the last thing he said to her, but she didn't care. Testing the cuffs again she tried to get away, but there was no hope. She knew that, and somehow it made her resigned.

She had endured this before. She could take it. She wouldn´t...

"Donovan, damn it... I´m not going to hurt you!" Sherlock´s voice seemed clear through the haze for a moment and he moved touch her, but seeing her flinch, he didn't. "Sally!" He sounded a bit desperate, but maybe that was just her imagination, she had no idea, as she was trembling in earnest now. Was this what it felt like when someone went into shock?

Sherlock was silent now watching her, maybe waiting for the moment where he could scare her the most, or something else, she didn't want to know.

Or was it concern in his eyes?

"Shit!"

All of the sudden Sherlock jumped up, opened his fly, pushed down his trousers and took hold of her face, only to push her towards his body. Sally stifled a scream and felt bile rising in her throat as she was pressed into his... thigh. He wasn't pressing her face to his crotch, hell she could see he wasn't even hard. Maybe he really wasn't getting off on this...?

She hadn't time to think further as only nanoseconds later the door was opened, admitting one of the bodyguards. Sherlock shot around and snarled at him, while he still held her, the thumb strangely stroking through her hair as if to reassure her somewhat. What the hell? "Get the fuck out of here. I don't need an audience. I thought I had made myself clear, haven't I?"

The bully guy looked positively intimidated. "I just, I ..."

"Get the fuck out of here, if you want to keep all your limbs!" Sherlock said then with a voice that made even Donovan shiver, although she wasn't addressed. Whoa.

But that did it for the guy as well and he ran out of the room, closing the door with a bang.

Sherlock took a deep breath and closed his pants again, his eyes never leaving her. She had mostly stopped trembling now and the tears weren't flowing that rapidly, but the fear wasn't fully gone. Maybe he was just playing with her? How could she know?

He was a freak after all, wasn't he?

"Listen, I don't know how much time we have. What the hell are you doing here? Is the Yard onto this?" he barked at her and she started shivering again, but couldn't say anything. Damn it, she wasn't a damsel in distress! Never had been! She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

But Sherlock seemed to have already gotten what he wanted. "Ah, I see. The woman. You tried to help, of course you would. But the others have no idea, have they?"

She tried to hold down a sob that threatened to come out and managed just barely. Yes she was alone, damn it. All free for you to kill me, Freak. She thought and tried to swallow down her fear.

" Hm, it's better this way, believe me, Sally."

He came closer again, making her flinch away once more. Sherlock stopped and looked a bit sad for a second, then it was gone again.

"Donovan why would you even think that I...?" He asked silently, keeping his eyes on her , then suddenly he seemed to find something. "Oh. I didn't know. I should have..." he seemed agitated and started to pace around the room for a minute before he stopped again. "I´m sorry. I should have known. I´d never tried to... if I´d known I remind you..."

A knock on the door interrupted them once more and Sherlock stopped. " God, can't a guy have some fun around here? Come back later!" he bellowed.

"You should call the boss!" Came a hesitant reply from before the door and Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Yes I will, now piss off, will you, or I´ll have my fun with you instead of this slut!" The fast paced steps told them that the man had gotten the hint and that they were alone now.

Sherlock seemed calmer again. " As I said, I don't know how much time we have until someone comes in, as you can see. Hell, the guys here are idiots!" He nearly smiled, or grimaced a bit, Sally wasn't sure.

"You are.. alive!"

Damn it, she finally had found her voice again. "How...why?" she managed in a reasonably steady voice, but Sherlock shushed her.

"Yes, obviously. Listen, I´m going to give you the quick version for now, because I know you won't shut up otherwise. No, I didn't die, I faked my death. It was necessary because John, my landlady and Lestrade were all to be killed if I wasn't dead. Moriarty had snipers on them. They are still being watched now, so it isn't safe, but I´m taking down Moriarty´s network of criminals so that I can come back again."

Sally said nothing, trying to take that in. What the fuck? If that was true...

And did that mean that he finally...

Sherlock groaned. "Why are you so fixed on me killing people? No, I don't kill them. I turn them in, either to the police or to my brother, depending on what they have done. Hell, you got an anonymous tip on that big fraud last week where you committed Simpson, right?"

Sally nodded.

"That was me. Believe it or not. Simpson was laundering the money for Moriarty´s organisation. I have more evidence, you will get it soon, once it's solid. Yes, I have finally learned to resolve the cases so that you actually can understand them and take them to court, isn't that splendid?" He grinned at that but then stopped.

"You don´t believe me." Sherlock stated then and Sally was quick to shake her head.

"No, that´s not it, its just.. why didn't you tell anyone?" Taking a ring of criminals alone? Was that even possible? Or was he taking it over?

"Ah, and to whom should I have told what had happened? You perhaps?"

Sally bit her lip at that. "Listen I ..."

"No, don't."

"But I never wanted you to jump..."

"I said don't. Don't apologize. You just did what everyone expected you to. Nothing more and nothing less."

Sally winced. As if that was better. "Whatever. I´m still sorry I accused you. Hell, we cleared all the cases a few months ago, did you know that? You probably do, right? And if you are really telling the truth.."

Sherlock sighed. "Sally, I am telling the truth. I´m not the bad guy you wish me to be, trust me on that."

"If not, then let me go. I`ll get Lestrade and ..."

Sherlock shook his head. "No. Cant."

"But..."

"I´m sorry, but you have to stay here for another two days. We´ll get another delivery on Monday morning and the guy who is connected to Moriarty is on that ship."

Another two days? Damn it! There was no way she was playing hostage for so long! How could he even think of that?

"Donovan, there's no way around that. Even if you free the people here, when the ship doesn't hear from us regularly they will drop the containers with the people into the sea. You don't want that, do you?"

Sally simply shook her head. No she really didn't want that.

Sherlock nodded. " I figured. Don't worry, I´ll keep you safe. I´ll just tell them that you are my bitch from now on. Fitting, isn't it?"

Sally attempted to show him the finger insofar as she managed with the handcuffs, which wasn't that easy, but Sherlock got the sentiment. "Fuck you, Freak."

"That's the Donovan spirit."

It made Sally nearly laugh. "Missed me, huh?" she teased, but Sherlock said nothing and she realized that maybe he had. He looked a bit tired, she thought then, but choseto say nothing.

"You know you can't tell them who I really am, right?" The ginger freak asked her and she gave him her best "Do you think I'm that stupid " look. Sherlock, surprisingly, didn't have a comeback; he just nodded.

"What do you call yourself nowadays anyway?" she asked then out of curiosity.

Sherlock huffed. "It's not as if I needed to give my real name to my bitch, is it?." He answered and started to open her cuffs. "But here, it's Sam Winston. It will change again once this is over."

When she was free, he cuffed her hands in front of her again and helped her up. She had no idea why, but she didn't resist. Maybe she was totally mad, but she chose to trust him. Just this once.

Probably would be her death, though.

But then again, if she would run now, there were many armed men outside and she doubted they would hesitate in shooting her.

"How about I call you bastard, then?" She offered.

Sherlock actually grinned. "Sounds about right."

He went two steps towards the door, but then came back to her as if he had forgotten something. "I´m sorry, Sally."

Not understanding what he was on about she gave him the "What?" look and only flinched slightly when he tore the hem off her shirt. Then he ruffled through her hair, which was weird, as he did it very gently, careful not to actually harm her. If Sally hadn't known better she would have guessed it was an attempt to comfort her instead.

"Raped women can't look this neat." Sherlock explained and Sally simply nodded.

There was nothing more to say.