A/N: I was supposed to update just a little bit faster but I ended up getting a flue that messed up my head. (winces) BUUUUUUUT, the new chapter is here now. Hooray?

THANK YOU, so very much, for you reviews and support! This saga's been quite a ride. It feels REALLY good to know that you're still marching with me. (BEAMS, and hugs)

Awkay, before I get all sentimental… Let's go! I truly hope that you'll enjoy the ride.

Quest for Fire

For a few stilled moments Sherlock could only stare at John, the terrifying familiarity of the situation overwhelming his head. He felt numb until all of a sudden he was experiencing far too much. Because John's steady hands opened the coat, revealing what a part of the detective had already known to expect.

A vest of explosives.

Sherlock swallowed. It was a small miracle that his voice didn't crack when he finally spoke. "Are you alright?"

John nodded slowly. The doctor's eyes scanned him from head to toe. A clearly visible flash of sorrow and ache could be seen as the man took in his injuries. "I… I'm sorry, Sherlock."

Sherlock frowned. John wasn't the one who did this to him. The one that forced him into doing things that'd haunt him until the day he died. In a second he understood.

Sentiment.

Shaking off that distracting thought Sherlock forced himself into full focus. He made his way to John, futilely trying to conceal his limp. "Let me see", he demanded.

Cautiously, clearly fearing that even the slightest jostle might set off the bomb, John took off the coat. Just before Sherlock would've proceeded to tear off the offensive thing the smaller man turned, revealing his back. It didn't take long to notice the blood staining the crème-colored jumper. "He… said that he wouldn't make it so easy this time." Irritation and fear danced on the man's face. "I don't know how deep it's attached."

Sherlock bit back a growl, sure that Ivan was listening and not wanting to give the man such satisfaction. Instead he took a moment to let his eyes scan through the room. Five doors. Without a doubt not all of them would be safe.

"Sherlock." John's voice pulled him from his thoughts immediately. The former soldier's eyes seemed a lot darker than usual. "I… know that he gave you the permission to leave. He told me he would. So go."

Sherlock shook his head determinedly, hating even the thought. "No", he announced firmly, his tone full of ice and steel. "Don't be an idiot, John. He wouldn't just let me go. He wants me to watch you die first."

John gritted his teeth so hard that it had to hurt. Took a deep breath. "Then what are we going to do?"

"We'll play his game." Sherlock attempted to estimate time. It was hard to focus on anything else but the numbers counting backwards almost directly on top of John's heart. If they'd manage to buy enough time… "And we'll win."

When consciousness began to rush right back in the first thing David became aware of was a crushing headache. For a moment it blinded him from all else. Then he caught the barely audible whispers.

"… anything yet?"

"Sorry." The woman, whose voice he couldn't remember hearing before, sounded exhausted. She had a British accent. "He's not out of OR yet. We'll just have to wait." There was a brief pause. "Any change?"

"I think that he's going to wake up soon." That voice… Who…? Derek…! "He started frowning a while back. Do you think he needs more pain medication?"

"I'll see what I can do." That was, apparently, when she finally caught the way his fingers were squirming and trying to reach out. A chair screeched a little while he felt her lean closer. "David? Can you hear me?"

It took far more effort than he felt ready for. But in the end David managed to haul his eyelids halfway open. At first he saw blurry figures that felt painful to look at in the far too bright light. After some squinting and a couple of groans focus began to return. A brown haired doctor was looking at him with a soft, encouraging smile on her face. Not much further stood Derek, dressed to a hospital gown. David's heart skipped a beat. What the hell…?!

He remembered a bout of pain, and darkness. And a name.

/ "Aaron?" /

The doctor interrupted him right when his mind was sliding towards the state of chaos. "I'm Sarah, a doctor and a friend of John's. Mycroft… requested my assistance." She offered him a look that was probably supposed to be comforting. "You received quite a blow to the head and you've been unconscious for the past couple of hours. So take it easy, alright?"

Ignoring her completely David focused on Derek, a demanding look on his face. His heart was beginning to hammer faster while terror took over. "What happened?"

Derek swallowed loudly, not meeting his eyes. It took torturously long before the man finally spoke. "Aaron… came into the house. I don't know what he was doing there, but… It sounded like he was alone. He hit you with something. And then he started shooting." The mocha skinned agent seemed to shiver. "I found Jack, Rossi. I found him, and we… we were hiding in a closet when the bullets came. Jack… He screamed and then… Then he was completely quiet. He just… He stopped." Derek gritted his teeth, seemed to go through a inner battle. "I screamed, too, and I felt a bullet. That's when all became foggy. I heard a woman, though."

David stiffened. He remembered her, too. She was there, just before the blackness swallowed him up. Her touch. Her voice. The same that once upon a time whispered declarations of love and affection.

/ "They're all dead, Aaron. Your son, David, Derek…" The two fingers that'd been lingering on his neck withdrew. "Who would've thought that you had it in you?" /

Why did Eveleen Moriarty let them live?

"Jack was shot, Rossi." Derek's sorrow filled voice, not to even mention those words, were more than enough to pull his chaotic head back to the present. Unshed tears pooled into the younger man's eyes. "One of the bullets hit him, to the chest. And I don't… I don't know if…"

David's heart stopped for a second, right there. He actually gasped. The horror of the situation flooded through him like ice.

Jesus Christ…!

The doctor, Sarah, seemed to take that as her cue to leave. "I'll go and see if I can find out anything new." Her lips opened but instead of offering the words she had in mind she left. David was glad. He wasn't in the mood for hearing a 'Everything's going to be alright'.

It seemed to take ages before David found his voice. His eyes strayed towards Derek. "Are you… alright?" he questioned, gesturing towards the other's outfit.

Derek seemed confused for a second, then nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I am. It's just a graze to the shoulder."

David nodded slowly. That was a bit of good news, at least, although he could tell that his friend was in pain. "And John?"

Derek's jawline tightened. "Apparently he was missing by the time we were retrieved. I haven't heard of the others." The man's eyes focused on the room's ceiling. "I… I don't know anything, right now. We'll just have to wait for Mycroft."

Silence fell as they indeed waited, both lost on the dangerous paths of their thoughts. Waited without the slightest idea of what was happening. And somehow the world around them felt several degrees darker than before.

There was a limp in his steps and although he'd managed to wash away the blood Aaron knew that he looked pitiable when he climbed out of a taxi. He gave the intimidated looking driver what little money he had left and marched on. He wouldn't need money where he was headed.

Aaron knew entirely too well that his time was running out. That there was no hope left for him, not anymore. But he could tear down as much as he could of the poisonous web before he'd run out of luck. After everything he'd done… Wasn't this the least he could do?

Besides, with Jack and most likely his team – family – gone, he didn't really have anything left to lose.

The certainty and fearlessness of a doomed man in his eyes Aaron entered a building he'd only been in once before. Remembering each hallway by heart he marched on, his gun held high and adrenaline storming through his veins. He frowned at the sight of bloodstains on the walls.

What was going on?

Before he wondered further a man, just a boy really, rounded the corner. He was one of Eveleen's newest recruits, a unfortunate soul who'd chosen the lesser of two hells. The man's eyes widened for a microsecond before Aaron's bullet had already slammed him down. Aaron tried not to think of how much like Jack the kid looked.

The journey to his destination felt endless. On his way he found quite a bit more blood, along with a couple of more recruits that were taken care of in a flash. Aaron could remember teaching one of them how to use a gun. The bitter irony of it all.

In the end he found what he'd been searching for. The observation room was smaller than Aaron had expected. He paid no mind to what lingered on the many screens everywhere around him. All his focus locked on the fire red haired woman stood directly before him.

He pulled out his gun without any hesitation. Pointed it at her, his finger already tightening. "My son, Eveleen… Was he acceptable collateral damage to you?"

Slowly, slowly the woman turned towards him. At first he saw the gun in her hold. Then the moisture in those wide, shocked eyes. They weren't Eveleen's.

JJ emitted something that could've as well been a gasp or a sob. She didn't lower her weapon. "I… I'm sorry, Aaron."

During the stunned moments that followed Spencer shooting the intruder Penelope could only stare at the dead man that almost took her life. Somewhere in the middle of that chaos Emily appeared, her own gun prepared. For a few seconds none of them knew what to do. Until Spencer did.

"We need to go. Now." There was a stunning amount of certainty and strength on the only a while ago half-dead man's face. "They'll know that he failed. More of them will appear to finish the job. We need to leave before that happens."

Emily frowned. "Reid, you can barely stand! We can't…"

"I know. But we have to." Spencer's eyes strayed towards the woman's mightily swollen belly. "I've… seen what it can be like, out there. And the baby can't be born there, into their hands. Don't do that to John." It was a low blow, one that Spencer regretted for a moment. But it worked.

For a brief moment Emily's eyes widened with surprise. Then, very slowly, she nodded. Despite Spencer's injuries and Emily's pregnancy it took them less than four minutes to gather what they needed. They all made it a point not to look at the body on their way out.

They were already climbing down the stairs, fast on their way to safety. They might've even made it. But just like so many times before fate wasn't planning on showing them any mercy.

Because just when they were about to leave the building a woman walked in through the front door, her steps full of elegance and determination. There was a small, chilling smile on her lips. And a small, crying child in her arms.

"Well hello there, darling", Eveleen greeted in a deviously pleasant, purring voice. "Did you really think that I wouldn't come and collect you personally? You're the most important name on my list, Spencer. I wouldn't waste this chance to play with you, one last time."

Spencer's eyes narrowed while he moved instinctively so that he was somewhat shielding the women behind him. His heart hammered and it took absolutely everything he had not to focus on the child. His son, whom he hadn't met in almost a year. Who'd been stolen from him such a long time ago. The longing squeezed around his heart until he feared that he wouldn't be able to stand it anymore. "What do you want?"

Eveleen's smile vanished. "I'd think that it's rather obvious." Out of nowhere, it seemed, she took a gun. Pointed it at their son. "Now, unless you want to see just how impatient my trigger finger can be… Go back to the apartment, all three of you. It's time to finish this."

John could tell that he was shaking while he followed Sherlock through the maze of hallways. Finally, after such a long time, he'd been allowed to actually see the detective. And there was a bomb sitting on his chest.

A bomb that would wipe away them both if it detonated.

There was so much that needed to be said. Had to be talked through. So much that he needed to know and wanted Sherlock to know.

John's lips parted but before he coult utter a single syllable Sherlock's hand flew to the side, stopping him. Confused, he peered downwards and felt a chill go through him at the sight of a lever that the detective was already examining. Whoever knows what it might've triggered.

John frowned, leaning cautiously closer to the lever although he had a feeling that he wouldn't be able to spot anything Sherlock hadn't already. His jaw tightened while he struggled with the desire to glance towards the timer on the vest. "A trap?"

Sherlock nodded tensely. Flames of fury and irritation shone brightly in the man's eyes. "Well. He did say that he wouldn't make it as easy this time."

"Yeah." John felt out of breath, like the weight of the device counting down his remaining life had suddenly weighed half more than before. He licked his lips, feeling nearly frantic. There was so much… "Sherlock…"

He never got the chance to go on, though. Not right then at least. Because all of a sudden there was a hellish, all consuming wave of pain radiating from his back. He gasped and shuddered, sheer willpower keeping him from plunging to his knees.

What the hell…?!

And then, while the immediate surge of agony passed, he could actually feel it. The vest just grew tighter. It'd most likely keep doing so until it'd be ripped off.

"John?" Sherlock's voice drifted to his consciousness, very faintly at first. Looking up he found a pair of eyes that held a astonishing amount of supressed emotions in their depths. "John! What's wrong?"

John looked at his friend and all of a sudden no further explanations were needed. Naked terror the kind the doctor didn't remember seeing ever before took over the detective's eyes. The gravity of the situation made the air around them so heavy that for a moment it was hard to breathe.

"We're going to take it off", Sherlock announced in the end, sounding so very determined and confident that it offered even John a touch of comfort. "But we need to hurry. Before it tightens again."

They were about to start the process when in what was nothing more than a blink the entire building went pitch-black as electricity vanished. For a second or two it was eerily quiet. Then they heard the unmistakable sound of a safety-door banging closed, sealing them in.

It was uncomfortably quiet in the apartment while the four of them and a small, still whimpering child sat there. Casting fleeting glances of doubt and mistrust towards each other. Each of them counting seconds. Spencer gritted his teeth.

Where the hell were Mycroft's men? Shouldn't they be there already? Their response time wasn't supposed to be this slow.

"I sent him a little message. Told him that it might not be a good idea to… interfere." Eveleen smiled sweetly, pulling their son just a little closer despite the child's resistance. "I hope that you don't mind. I wanted to meet you without any unnecessary interruptions."

It took a lot of Spencer to keep his emotions in check. He lifted his chin a little, struggling not to look at poor little Danny who was much too young to understand what was going on. "You're going to kill me." It wasn't even a question, it was a solid fact. Unless he'd manage to find a way around this.

"I believe that the original deal was that I'd burn you. Burn your heart." Eveleen caressed the child in a way that made Danny cry out with displeasure and Penelope gasp. Her eyes never once strayed from his. They seemed to see too much. "But… Yes. Once I've done that… Once I've made you beg for it… Then, yes. I will be the death of you. And I, my love… will enjoy it."

A very odd sensation of numbness filled Spencer while he kept looking at her. He balled his fists, tasted something very unpleasant on the tip of his tongue. Then he looked at his son, into those eyes that'd never seen anything evil in anyone.

His heart began to beat just a little bit faster.

"You… You can't do this!" Penelope cried out. There were tears in her eyes and her hands were shaking. "Danny, he's… He's your son, too! You can't just…!"

Eveleen tilted her head. For the first time since they sat her attention shifted from Spencer. "Yes. He's my flesh and blood. I gave him a life. It took me thirty-nine weeks and three days, then thirty-two more hours of agony. It was one of the hardest things that I've ever done and I nearly bled to death while doing it." In a tantalising manner her gun shifted on Danny, eventually pointed towards the child's head. "Taking his life… Now wouldn't it be much easier?"

Exactly two seconds later a gunshot rang out.

TBC

A/N: Okay… So… (takes a deep breath) Things are coming closer and closer to the inevitable end. There'll be tears and blood before this is all over. The East Wind is coming. (Those who've seen 'Sherlock' series 3 get what I mean. The others… Don't worry, you'll know!)

Soooo… Thoughts? Comments? PLEASE, do let me know! It'd feel super good to hear from you. (gives puppy's eyes)

I've really gotta go now. There's a bed calling out my name. (yawns) Until next time, ya all! I really hope that every single one of you will stay tuned until then.

Take care!