Fight, for you may know peace

Authors: Kessie
Characters/Pairings: Sherlock, Sally, Mycroft. John, Anthea, Lestrade, Moran, OCs Sherlock/John, Sally/Mycroft, forced Sherlock/Sally
Rating: NC17
Status: still writing
Warnings: Warnings for mentions of non con and violence. Mention of Child abuse. And language of course. It's Donovan. Lots of drama, but also some silliness…
Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to the BBC, ACD, Moffat and Gatiss. No copyright infringement intended.
Summary: They knew. Knew he would try again. Knew he would never let them live their life. So they were prepared, weren´t they?

So this in the third Part in the "Changes" series. It will probably help if you read Part 1: Spero melior and Part 2: Fate, first.

Chapter 1

The nerve racking buzzing of a fake bumblebee was the first sound which Sally heard when she awoke from her slumber at 7 in the morning. Grumbling curses about Sherlock, who always loved to change her ring tone, claiming that the reason was, that he liked bees, she managed to retrieve her mobile from the night stand without waking Mycroft next to her.

"Donovan." She mumbled, looking at her bedmate for a second. Mycroft was still sleeping peacefully and Sally smiled. They only had a few hours together because Mycroft just arrived close to 4 at night due to some government crisis the tabloids did not yet know about. Thank god. That way he at least got a few hours sleep.

"Hey Sally, sorry to wake you so early but we´ve got a case. Murder in the Smithson retirement home. Say sorry to Mycroft as well, will you? I need you here."

Lestrade.

Sally sighed and told him that it was okay. Confirming that Sherlock and John would be there as well, she hung up and turned towards Mycroft again, who was now very much awake.

"Work?" he asked and she nodded smiling, before letting herself be drawn into a long kiss.

"Be careful, love." Mycroft told her and Sally smirked.

"Ah as if there is anything to worry about. Your men are still watching me like hawks."

That only resulted in Mycroft looking serious. "Sally, you know it's necessary..." He started but Sally waved him off.

"I know Myc. I know. But it's been three weeks since Moran played all mighty agent at the MI6 and there has been no sign of that bastard since then. Maybe he has simply pissed off somewhere, I don´t know. I´m just tired being watched all the time." She sighed. "I know it's because you care, but still." With that she wandered off into the shower, leaving Mycroft, who looked after her as she vanished into the bathroom.

"I know Sally. I know." he whispered, hoping that Moran had really pissed off for good, as Sally would say.

Sadly he was inclined to believe otherwise.

#

After getting ready and even eating a small breakfast which Mycroft had been adamant about, Sally gave her boyfriend a goodbye kiss and drove to the crime scene.

At first she pretended to not see the black car which was following her but then she gave up. The special training on observation and being followed and the like which Anthea had given her seemed work wonders. She knew the men weren´t obvious to anyone else but she could recognize them on the spot now. A look into the rear-view mirror confirmed that Peterson and Sanders were her "special bodyguards" today. She considered waving hello to them but then decided against it. Drawing attention to her like that was not a good thing, no matter whether Moran was still out there or not. And maybe Mycroft and Sherlock, who approved of his brothers actions to set men on her, John, Molly, Lestrade, hell even on Anderson, were right about being cautious.

Yet Sally didn´t want to worry about it all the time. So she thought about her first meeting with Mycroft that hadn´t had anything to do with his younger brother.

A few months ago...

It had been a weird day. Not only had the suspected murder turned out to no murder at all, she had also had to deal with a witness to a crime who had thrown racial slurs at her as she tried to get his account of it all.

Luckily Sherlock had been there and deduced the shit out of him so that the witness had actually been crying for him stop at the end. Even though Sally could have held her own against the racist she was glad Sherlock had done this. It hadn´t been the first time either.

Which led Sally to remember the other time when Sherlock had defended her like that. Back then they had still hated each other and yet Sherlock couldn´t stand anyone being rascist against her. The next day Sally had pondered what to say, which had lead to Sherlock insulting her intelligence and her romantic choices again and that had been that.

Now she couldn´t help but think what could have been if they had really considered each other back then. Really talked, like they did now. Just once.

Maybe the whole thing with Moriarty on the rooftop would have worked out differently? She still cursed herself for her role in this.

Sherlock had grumbled at her to stop dwelling on things so much, but Sally was still pondering everything as she was on the way home.

It probably should not have come as a surprise when a dark limousine had turned up next to her that evening. And yet she was surprised every time it did, even though Mycroft had kidnapped her a few times already. She guessed he wanted to talk about something pertaining to Sherlock or Sergej again. She got into the extravagant vehicle although she really wished she could have gone home instead.

Inside, both, Anthea and Mycroft smiled at her.

"Rough day, Ms. Donovan?" Mycroft asked and Sally sighed.

"Did your brother send you?" she asked but continued at the tiny shake of Mycroft´s head. "Listen I´ve had a long day, I just want to go home. Just tell me what it is about Sherlock this time. Or is this about Sergej?"

With that she gladly took the cooled bottle of water, which Anthea offered. Okay, getting picked up by Mycroft Holmes after work could have its perks. Otherwise she would have gone thirsty until she was home.

Mycroft had just slightly shaken his head once more. "No Ms. Donovan, I merely thought..."

He stopped, which left Sally a bit surprised. Was it bad news again? She hoped not. She was glad that the tumult which happened after Sherlock came back from the dead was slowly dwindling down and that the whole thing with Sergej slowly seemed to fade away as well. At least in her every day thoughts. The nightmares were another matter.

She saw that Anthea was looking at her boss with big eyes now, before giving a long sigh. "He means to ask if you would be up to try "Chinghams"? It´s a new restaurant in Camden and supposed to be very delicious."

Mycroft actually looked a tiny bit terrified now and then Sally got the picture. Wait a second, was he trying to ask her out? And more importantly, he seemed kind of scared to do it?

The car then came to a halt, which later Sally would think had been deliberately orchestrated by Anthea. But at this point she didn´t waste too many thoughts on it when the assistant got out of the car to go and buy some necessities as she called it. Because wasn´t it normal to buy necessities at 9 o´clock in the evening?

It didn´t matter, because it left her and Mycroft alone in the car. The looked at each other awkwardly for a few minutes, then Mycroft seemed to find his voice again.

"I´m sorry, Ms. Donovan. My assistant loves to meddle sometimes. I.." he didn´t get any further as Sally had made a decision and held up her hand.

"I don´t mind. Actually I like trying out new restaurants. And I´m starving!"

It didn´t seemed too strange that they didn´t pick up Anthea after that, as Sally thought about it later. But the evening and Mycroft turned out even more interesting than she had expected and the kidnappings to new or interesting restaurants became a regular occurrence.

It had taken about 5 dates until they had made it official and had called their meetings dating. Sherlock, John and of course Anthea had known already, and Lestrade who had been the next one to find out had wished them luck. Mycroft had asked if she wanted to be his girlfriend officially about 5 weeks ago and even if they didn´t have penetrative sex yet, they loved to kiss and just cuddle.

Before the Moran's deception at the MI6 with Moran she had stayed at Mycroft´s twice, but since then she had practically moved in with him. At first she had declined, afraid that their relationship went way too fast, but as she found Sherlock pleading at her, she had given in. Her new boyfriend being the safehouse wasn´t the same as moving in officially, was it? She at least tried not to think of it like that. She wanted to have a normal relationship. Everything should have its time and place in it.

Also it had shown that the consulting detective was really worried as Lestrade, Molly and even Anderson were watched by Mycroft´s men. She supposed he even had men watching their families, although she had never asked. So if Sherlock thought that it would help, she would try to be okay with it. Even if she was scared that her´s and Myc´s relationship might be moving too fast.

Damn Moran, she thought again. If she could get her hands on that bastard! She shook her head as these thoughts would get her nowhere anyway and parked her car she had arrived at the retirement home where the crime scene was supposed to be.

#

Sherlock Holmes was happy. He was on the way to a new case. He was more or less rested as the nightmares which had resurfaced since the Moran incident, had been kept at bay the previous night, due to John sleeping next to him he supposed, not that he would ever admit that. That, and so far Moran hadn´t shown his damn face again.

But most importantly there was a new case!

Finally.

Not that he liked people dying, mind you, but this time he was particularly glad to be distracted from his thoughts about Moran. That and the whole Christmas season and the following New Years Eve had never been his thing. It involved too much socializing. Too many people he didn´t want to see and too many parties he didn´t want to go to.

Even though this year it had been better. He had skipped most of the Christmas parties and celebrated with Sally, Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson and John.

On New Years Eve, John and him had gone out on what people would call a double date with Mycroft and Sally. They had attended Lestrade´s new years party and surprisingly it had been quite enjoyable, even though Anderson had shown his face there for about two hours, before going back to his wife again.

So yes, his mood could have been described as 'content' as he walked into the retirement home. Because for him, another body was a good thing.

His excitement diminished though, as he was brought to the body. God damn it, this case was so easy, he couldn´t understand why Lestrade couldn´t see it himself. Mr. Clarkson, 84, had been killed because he owed money to his room-mate Mr. Verde. There was even an IOU between the photographs of Mr. Clarkson´s family on the board next to the door. Really, any idiot should have seen that!

So yes. Boring. So much for another interesting case.

He told Lestrade as much and noticed Sally making her way towards them. Tired, but happy. Obviously she had been thrown out of Mycroft's bed when Lestrade called her here. Why in god's heaven had he done that? It wasn´t that he didn´t like to see her. That was long past. No, she and Mycroft could have used some more rest.

And even if it would have been a harder case, he could have solved this case by himself. Or together with John, as his blogger was standing next to him, looking decidedly tired himself.

"Hey Sherlock, John." Sally smiled at them.

"Case is already solved. And his majesty is grumpy." John told her and earned a glare from him.

Very funny John.

Not.

Sally laughed. "Okay then I´ll be off again, I´ll just tell Greg. Maybe I´ll manage to catch Mycroft before he has to go to work. I don´t have to be in the office until midday. By the way, tomorrow at 9 at Baker Street, was it?"

John next to him smiled and nodded and even though Sherlock was close to rolling his eyes he found himself nodding as well.

Bloody sentiment. Why did he agree to celebrate his birthday again? Especially so close after Christmas? He should have told them Christmas and New Years Eve had been enough socializing and maybe they would have forgotten eventually.

And yet a tiny voice inside him said that a piece of him was actually looking forward to the low key meal which they had planned. Just friends eating dinner they had said, and even though Sherlock only half heartedly believed them, he had agreed.

Sally walked over to Greg, telling them she had to ask John something about a health problem. Sherlock didn´t believe she wanted privacy because of this, but he left them to it. It would make them happy if they could pretend that they would surprise him with his birthday present.

And even if people were sometimes inclined to believe otherwise, Sherlock liked his friends to be happy.

So he said goodbye to Sally, nodded at Lestrade and told John he would be outside getting a taxi for them.

He didn´t get very far. Just as he had stepped into the hallway he was stopped by an old woman, who seemingly was one of the inhabitants of the home. She had grabbed his coat and wouldn´t let go.

"Sherlock." She smiled at him, a little toothless because she wasn´t wearing her fake teeth and Sherlock felt a little strange by her weird facial expression. "It's good you finally found each other. Make sure you take care of her, will you? Don´t run away again. Oh and I can see your knight is there as well..." She smiled even brighter, while Sherlock was both irritated and surprised. Did he know that woman? And who did she mean by 'her'? And his knight? How was...

Then it hit him. He should have seen the similarity instantly he supposed. He even had a photo of her at Baker Street, the little gift Sally had given him at Christmas.

Mrs. Tumbleton, Sally´s former neighbour was still smiling at him as if he was her long lost son. Sherlock took a deep breath and gently took the woman´s hand from his coat. This time she complied, yet was still smiling. It was kind of eerie.

"What do you mean I should take care of Sally? You mean Sally, right?" he asked, but now he was rewarded by a quizzical expression.

"Do I know you?" Mrs. Tumbleton asked then, taking a step back as he might be dangerous. "Where am I ? Is this the cafeteria?" She looked around, clearly lost now and Sherlock sighed.

Alzheimer´s. Of course. It shouldn´t have come as a surprise. Mrs. Tumbleton must be well over 90 now. And yet Sherlock would have liked an explanation about what she had said about Sally. Had she known about Sergej?

Had she even know what Sergej had done to him?

He was just about to ask another question as a nurse appeared, taking the hand of the old woman. "I´m sorry, I hope she hasn´t been bothering you. She wanders off sometimes."

Sherlock nodded. "I think I know her, Mrs. Tumbleton, right?"

The nurse nodded, surprised.

"She was friend of my grandmother. I didn't recognize her at first, but she recognized me."

Now the nurse looked even more surprised. "She did? Wow. Normally she doesn´t even remember her own name. Mostly she just asks for the cafeteria. The Alzheimer´s has progressed pretty far already. Often we have to remind her how to eat and drink."

She looked sad at that and shrugged, all too used to the sickness, Sherlock supposed. Mrs. Tumbleton took that moment and made herself known again. "Is this the cafeteria?" she asked and while the nurse shook her head, Sherlock decided he wouldn´t get anything out of the old woman.

Uncharacteristically kind, he patted her hand for a few seconds. "Goodbye Mrs. Tumbleton." he said and nodded at the nurse, before leaving the retirement home, deep in thought.

He had just stepped outside when the memory of him with his grandmother hit him. He had deleted it or so he thought, because it seemed to come back to him now. Seeing Mrs. Eugenia Tumbleton must have been the trigger.

It had been a rainy day.

Sherlock was bored. Why did he have to go with grandma to visit Mrs. Tumbleton anyway? He´d rather have continued his experiments with the bees he caught in the garden yesterday. They were such a fascinating species. Too bad his mother hadn´t allowed him a stock in their garden. Well he would sure find a way even if that meant he could keep only a few.

Bored, he wandered around Mrs. Tumbleton´s apartment and went to the window and looked out. There, on the stairs of the entrance, was a little, dark skinned girl about his age. Seemingly lost in her own world she seemed to enjoy jumping around the rain.

"That´s Sally."

Sherlock couldn´t help but flinch. He hadn´t even heard Mrs. Tumbleton behind him.

"You should watch her, you know? She´s connected to you."

That caused him to look at the woman. What? Connected? The woman laughed.

"Don´t look so scared. She is a real nice girl, you know. Can be a bit of a handful but that´s mostly because she is scared or nervous. Want to go meet her?"

Sherlock hesitated for a few seconds. Meeting new kids was not always easy. Especially if he was smarter than they were, which happened most of the time. But before he could do anything, his grandmother was suddenly behind them, back from the bathroom he supposed.

"Eugenia, what are you doing with the boy?" She asked, clearly not amused, which caused Sherlock to turn around again and stop looking at Sally.

"What I have to. You know they are connected. I can see it!"

"Don´t." His grandmother was angry now,

"But I can see it clearly. There are connected through two lines. And you know what that means."

Beth Holmes seemed to stop for a second, before she grabbed Sherlock´s hand and went for her purse on the couch. "I don´t want to hear it."

"Beth please. I don´t make the rules. But you know its going to happen. You might as well introduce them already."

"No. I don´t believe in superstitious dreams." She took her purse and grabbed Sherlock´s coat. "And you shouldn't either, Eugenia. We can show ourselves out."

"Beth you are running away and you know it. What´s so bad about the two getting to know each other?"

His grandmother stopped again and turned to look at her friend. "Because if you see connections in people it always means that something bad is going to happen. I´m just protecting Sherlock and the little girl."

"You know you can´t-"

"Yes I can and I will. Have a nice day." With that his grandmother had left the apartment with him.

Walking down the stairs by Sally, she had looked surprised at the sudden tumult from the apartment not too far away.

Then she had smiled at him, before jumping into the puddles again, seemingly lost in her own world.

Sherlock was a little baffled at the memory. Now that he thought about it, it had been the last visit with Mrs. Tumbleton before the whole thing with Sergej had happened. And before his grandmother had died.

So Mrs. Tumbleton had known? Had she been involved? No he would have seen that at Beth´s funeral, the last time he had seen her, he told himself. Then again his mother always thought the woman to be crazy anyway. "She believes in the supernatural, like horoscopes and such." She had said and he heard his aunts saying something about visions come to think of it.

So Eugenia Tumbleton had known about the bad things which happened to him and Sally through a vision? That alone seemed impossible, but due to the now progressed Alzheimer´s he guessed he´d never know.

Seemingly lost in thought he waved at the taxi he had spotted to come closer.

#

Entering 221b John Watson wasn´t sure if was angry or worried. Maybe it was a bit of both. Despite what Sherlock had told him he apparently hadn´t gotten a taxi for them. John had searched the whole first floor of the hospital, the car park and the park for his boyfriend but hadn´t found him. After another hour of running around he had given up and returned to Baker Street by himself.

If Sherlock was at Baker Street, he would receive the talk of his life. Now John understood that Sherlock didn´t really like that they were planning his birthday that much, but that didn´t warrant running away. Sherlock knew John hated that and since he had jumped from Bart's it made John extremely worried if he didn´t know where Sherlock was.

Sherlock had said he understood and vowed to always tell him where he was going. So far it had worked but now John wasn´t so sure any more.

Well, wherever the consulting detective had run off to, it sure as hell wasn´t this flat. With a little sigh John settled down in his chair, thinking. Where the hell could he have gone? He had no reason to be worried, Sherlock was a grown man. Yet with Moran out there, one never knew.

Deciding it was the best to wait, he began making himself some of the sudden his phone started to ring.

It was Mycroft.

"John, we have reason to believe that Sherlock might have been kidnapped."

"What? Why? I mean, what happened?" A little panic rose within himself. It couldn't be Moran, could it?

"Details are unclear but he activated his tracker not too far from the retirement home where you guys were working."

"What? He has a tracker?"

Mycroft seemed a little bit annoyed at his outburst. "Yes, he has. A precaution we made after the whole business with Moriarty. It was one way to make sure we could know where everyone was. Be ready in a few minutes, we are going to pick you up."

"I´m already ready. Just came home ten minutes ago. Wait a minute. Everyone?"

Nothing.

"Mycroft, do you mean every one of us has trackers? What the hell?"

The sound of the door and the creak of the stairs announced someone entering. John didn´t need to turn around to know it was Mycroft, phone still in hand.

"I assure you, John, it was done in your best interests. It only tracks you when it's activated anyway. We didn´t want you to have the impression we were keeping track of you all the time. Also, it's safer in case someone else gets wind of the tracker as well."

Since he didn´t have the energy to argue John just sighed. "When?"

"The flu-shot at the Yard yesterday, where Molly assisted."

A sigh. "Yeah come to think of it the timing was a bit off. So Molly knew?" John laughed slightly.

Mycroft nodded at that. "Yes she did. And she agreed and had one herself. Sherlock was supposed to tell you all anyway, as I was having a meeting with the prime minister."

Come to think of it Mycroft didn´t look to happy about it either. So John let it go.

At least for now.

"So what do we know?" he asked, changing back to the more important things at that moment.

"Sherlock activated his tracker about an hour ago close to Kings Cross. I immediately sent men to follow him and set to go there myself, but the tracker must have malfunctioned. We lost the signal after 10 minutes."

John closed his eyes at that, cursing inwardly. "That means he could be everywhere. Or maybe he set off it accidentally and switched it off again?"

A shake of Mycroft´s head. "No, it's foolproof. You can´t set it off accidentally. We made sure of that."

Another nod from John, who picked up his phone and keys, ready to go.

"There´s more John."

That made him stop.

Mycroft seemed off somehow, John thought then. Really shaken. So it couldn´t be good news.

"I can´t seem to reach Sally either."

God fucking damn it. "So it´s Moran."

Mycroft didn´t even nod at that, they just left 221b together.