A/n: Chapter 3, folks! 2 more to go. Thank you, Rohan for being a fantastic beta.

Reclining at the back of the speeding car, Lawliet watched as the tall buildings of urban London sped away in a blur. His hands were still fiddling with his pen, albeit much more furiously. His face, as calm and impassive as always, betrayed none of his inner turmoil.

He had really been looking forward to a long and peaceful holiday, and after the insanity of the Kira case, he would say it was well deserved. At least his father had been able to come home for Christmas Eve, if only for the family dinner and distribution of presents to the children at Wammy's House. Lawliet had been home for all of ten minutes before running out of the house as another massive problem demanded his attention.

He groaned as the car halted at another red signal and buried his face in his hands. Everything in the universe had seemingly rearranged itself to cause him inconvenience at every step. Severe jet lag and sleep deprivation was a terrible combination for him. Throw in hypoglycaemic and you might as well have a full fledged irritated monster on your hands.

Thankfully the signal turned green almost immediately. The car slid to a halt in front of an old tall hospital building and he sprang out, running through the crowd of people to the reception. Bounding in the direction the receptionist pointed, towards the morgue, while noting location of the pathology office on his way, he found the person he was seeking just where she said he would.

"Miss Hooper!"

Big brown bloodshot eyes stared at him from behind large goggles. The concerned person was in the midst of an autopsy, with her hands buried deep in the subject's corpse.

Fighting back a sudden wave of nausea, he said, "Time is of essence, Miss Hooper! Join me in the office as soon as possible" and took off in the direction of the pathology office, glad to leave behind the stench of formalin and death.

A few minutes later, the petite brunette joined him, only to find him working on her laptop, fingers flying across the keys. It was obvious that she had been crying. Her general demeanour screamed helplessness and defeat, and her eyes looked so tired, it seemed she would like nothing more than to fall asleep where she was.

'You and me both, Molly Hooper' he thought to himself.

"How did you get past the- never mind" she sighed, silenced by the appraising look that was all too familiar to her by now. "Who are you anyway?" she asked, staring at the strange man in the leather jacket, crouched at her desk. She was absolutely certain she had never seen him before and yet everything about him was strangely familiar.

"There is no time to spare on introductions. We need to bring him back, don't we?"

"W-What? How? Is it really possible?" she stammered, not quite able to contain her excitement.

"Everything is possible with the right resources. Now I only have a vague idea about what happened a few years ago, having been away on a case myself. But if there's one person that could singlehandedly throw the nation into a state of panic, it would be the notorious consulting criminal, am I right?" said Lawliet.

"Yes. Yes, of course. Everyone knows the truth now, including what he's capable of" said Molly, averting her gaze, cheeks flushing. Lawliet's eyes narrowed slightly but he said nothing.

"But, but he's dead, isn't he?" said Molly, suddenly afraid of the stranger in front of her.

"Quite so. But not for long. And the only person who can effectively stop him is Sherlock Holmes" he continued, breaking her out of her reverie.

"A-absolutely. Yes. Nobody else would stand a chance" said Molly, nodding her agreement, wondering where this was going.

Lawliet leaned back in the chair, staring at the screen, joined palms resting below his chin and suddenly the puzzle pieces of why he looked so familiar fell into place. His solemn expression morphed into a manic grin so suddenly that she was startled.

"Here's what we're going to do, Molly Hooper."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

CLICK.

It had taken all of thirty minutes to set up the broadcast. Molly came back to the office with a satisfied mischievous grin, which looked refreshingly pleasant compared to her tearful expression from earlier.

"They all show the same message; every screen in the hospital, even the billboards outside. You did it!" she said gleefully.

"We did it, Miss Hooper. I am afraid I must leave now. It has been a pleasure meeting you. I do hope we'll meet under more favorable circumstances the next time" said Lawliet, extending his hand.

"Of course" she said, shaking his hand and smiling again.

Just as he was at the door, she spoke again.

"You're him, aren't you? Sherlock's younger brother. Lawliet, I think was the name?" she said hesitantly.

Taken aback, he stared at the young pathologist. He had known how deeply she had cared for his brother and how Sherlock had always trusted her, in her professional as well as personal judgement. But Sherlock had never mentioned how perceptive the woman was. She was smiling slightly and with a pang Lawliet realised that he would give anything to see a similar expression on his mother's face. When he had seen Mummy that morning, she looked like she had aged ten years. Her face had betrayed such a palpable grief that his words had been lost in his throat. She had finally broken down at the sight of her third son, who had returned home just when his older brother had been sent to his death.

"What gave it away, Miss Hooper?" he asked cautiously.

She snorted.

"If nothing else, the Miss Hooper would've been enough. It's Doctor Hooper, as I keep telling your brothers." She said, shaking her head.

He waited for her to continue.

"It was just this thing that Sherlock mentioned when he was under the influence of the drugs which he insisted were for a case. John said he looked terrible and Sherlock snorted, remarking that even at his worst, he still looked better than his brother Lawliet. John was furious so he didn't think much about it but I remembered.

Lawliet, just bring him back will you? Bring him back to us. He belongs here, in London, not on some goddamned plane to some place, from where he might not even return" she said, choking up towards the end.

Lawliet laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"If this doesn't work, I don't know what will, Dr. Hooper. Sherlock will be back with us very soon" he said.

Just then, the blare of his phone ringing interrupted the comfortable silence.

"Yes, father. Go on...He did what?! .. Oh.. All right. Take care of Mummy. See you soon."

"Guess what?" he said to Molly. "My dear brother is on his way to Bart's."

A/n: afhdgzjcbkzhf he's the third brother!

Hope you like the twist.

Please review!

Aditi xoxoxox