Pride Will Destroy You

The fact that the person responsible for the terrorist plot ended up also named Moran was a source of great amusement for Melissa. After a bit of research, she determined that he was Sebastian's cousin, which had her wishing that Mycroft would permit her to visit him for the simple point of asking why he'd never mentioned he had a cousin who was a Member of Parliament.

She was surprised that she hadn't actually already known it, though she didn't put it past Jim having known it.

It wasn't long after Sherlock's return when Mycroft decided that she should be sent to the field in order to meet with a certain branch of her brother's empire that had started contacting her again. He hadn't seemed happy to send her on her own, but bringing anyone even remotely connected with the government would be too suspicious.

She'd never visited this compound herself, but she'd met with the head before.

But when she arrived in the facility, Melissa instantly knew something was wrong.

She'd just taken out her phone to send word that she needed immediate extraction when someone grabbed her from behind and pressed a cloth her mouth and nose. She fought for a moment, but the drug was effective and she blacked out almost instantly.

~M~

When Melissa came to again, she was hanging by her chained arms over her head, feet just barely brushing the ground. They'd removed her hidden gun and appeared to have searched everywhere else if the places she could feel the cold air on her skin was any guide. She was turned to face the wall opposite the door, but she couldn't spin herself around.

Oh, she was going to fucking kill every single fucking person in this facility. She didn't even care what Mycroft had to say on the subject.

"So kind of you to come when we called," the person spoke with a strong accent, but she had the feeling they knew she didn't wasn't fluent in Korean – she knew enough of the language to hold phone calls and have the intended meeting, but not enough for the torture they clearly had planned. "We were worried that you'd forsaken us."

"Don't worry, you're my favorite torturer." The woman walked in front of Melissa. "We could have had this conversation over tea and biscuits."

"You will answer my questions, or I will hurt you."

"Yes, that is generally how torture works." She rolled her neck. "Why have you decided to do this now?"

"Moran was compromised."

"Which Moran? I happen to know two."

"Your pet."

"Ah, Sebastian. Did you know, his cousin was recently involved in a terror threat. Violence seems to run in the family."

The woman punched Melissa in the gut, making her swing. "You will not speak unless spoken to."

"Moran has been arrested for a year," she groaned slightly as she spoke, unable to help herself. "Surprised you've just decided to act now."

"Keep being smart and I'll hurt your pretty face." The woman drew a knife from her hip, touching it to Melissa's cheek. "Do you understand?"

Melissa clenched her jaw, but she said nothing.

This was infuriating.

"Sherlock Holmes is back in London."

"Yes, he is."

The woman cut along her cheek bone. "I have some questions about him."

Melissa had to physically stop herself from laughing.

~M~

Melissa quickly found herself wishing for the torture and questioning she'd experienced at the hands of the government. She somehow managed to keep herself from making too many 'smart' comments so her face wasn't overly wounded, but they'd soundly bruised her abdomen and injured at least one of her knees.

Thankfully, they'd recently grown satisfied by what she could tell them about Sherlock and what Sebastian had revealed, as apparently he'd been involved with them in the time since Jim's death, so they'd given her a break.

Not that they'd let her roam free, they'd just lowered her so that she could rest her knees on the ground, which was a form of torture of its own.

She didn't know how long she'd been here, though she did know that they had no intention of releasing or killing her just yet. They hadn't known she was Jim's sister, thankfully, but there was still information about Sherlock and other things that they wanted to attempt to get out of her.

After enough time had passed, Mycroft would send someone to look for her, she knew he would. But she didn't know how long he would wait for that.

She attempted to flex her hands, but the right one barely moved. They'd discovered that she'd previously injured it and worsened it the last time she'd been 'smart', meaning they'd messed up the nerves and left it completely numb.

Very thankful for her ambidextrousness now.

When the door opened again, Melissa let her head hand and pretended to be asleep.

"You're in quite a state."

Her head shot up. "Sebastian?"

"The one and the only." The man in question came into her field of view, looking terribly worse for wear. "Mycroft sent me."

"Mycroft sent you?"

"Broke me out, gave me a tracker." He smirked. "Thought you would be less likely to kill me instantly."

"Considering you're part of the reason I'm here, I might still kill you."

"Good to know you haven't changed too much." He stepped forward, unlocking her wrists. She immediately fell forward, Sebastian managing to catch her before she actually collided with him. He helped her stand, letting him support her.

"Please tell me you have a gun for me." She cradled her numb hand against her chest.

"Mycroft did specifically tell me not to give you one."

"Don't tell me you've suddenly decided to listen to him."

Sebastian handed her a gun. "Don't worry, Melie."

Melissa sighed. "I have fucking missed you, Seb." She grabbed his jacket and pulled him into a kiss, taking as long doing that as she wanted. "Now," she pulled back, grinning. "Let's kill some fuckers."

~M~

Sadly, even Sebastian didn't let Melissa do much killing, though he did let her kill the woman who'd seemed to be in charge of the torturing.

That was quite satisfying.

She did find herself pausing at various points to explore the man she hadn't seen for an entire year. She'd once told Mycroft that Sebastian was a normal, but that hadn't been entirely correct. Sebastian wasn't overly clever, but he was no goldfish.

She wasn't attracted to goldfish.

There wasn't a medic in the small plane that he'd come in, but Sebastian had the necessary materials to begin to tend to her wounds. He seemed most worried by her right hand and the fact it looked highly likely she might never feel anything with it again.

Once they arrived at the airport, Sebastian supported her out of the plane, having put a cast on her knee. Mycroft was waiting on the runway, umbrella in hand, with two uniformed agents behind him, clearly for Sebastian. "Wanted to ruin my fun by not giving me a gun, did you?"

"How are you?"

She held up her right hand. "Turns out your efforts to help tend to the original wounds were for naught." She adjusted her weight, Sebastian shifting to help her. "How long was I away?"

"A week."

"It took you a full fucking week to get me out of there? What, did you take your sweet time deciding if I was really a worthwhile enough asset?"

"I wasn't the one who needed convincing."

She sighed. "I need a fucking drink, Mycroft Holmes. Now."

He nodded. "Do you need help walking?"

Melissa was extremely tempted to say that no, she didn't need any fucking help from him, but she knew the moment she attempted to take a step on her own she'd just collapse. "Are you sending Moran back to prison?"

"You're not in the position to negotiate for him, Ms. Brook."

"I'm not planning on negotiating, I'm just asking."

"He will be returning to where he'd been held previously."

"I'd recommend you stop questioning him." She switched to Mycroft's support, the man letting her use his umbrella also as support. "Considering part of the reason they did that was because of what he'd told them." She glanced back at Sebastian, whom the agents had already converged upon. "I'm sorry, Seb."

"Glad to see you safe, Melie."

Melissa had to turn away then, walking with Mycroft to the nearby building. "How long did you wait before deciding to send someone after me?"

"Two days."

"What did you think I was doing for two days when the meeting was only meant to take a few hours?"

"Vacationing."

She scoffed. "Please tell me you're joking."

"Were you able to determine what they wanted to know?"

"Apparently Moran had revealed certain things recently and they were a bit upset. And they wanted to learn more about your little brother."

"We have sent agents to dismantle them."

"Took you long enough."

He held the door open for her. "Our mutual acquaintance contacted us while you were away."

"What did he want?"

"Apparently you were meant to meet for lunch."

She nodded. "Yes, we'd had one scheduled for this week."

"Does he hold anything over you?"

"Not that he's mentioned. I think he just likes to chat with someone so remarkably clever." She smirked at him. "Though you're not one to criticize blackmail, Mycroft-who-I-owe-three-favors."

~M~

Melissa quickly learned that Sebastian managed to negotiate with Mycroft that, in return for going to rescue Melissa, the pair of them would be permitted visits. Part of her was tempted to deny him just because he had the balls to assume she would want to continue seeing him, but the fact was...he was right. She wanted to see him.

Thankfully, Mycroft agreed, though he made Melissa promise not to arrange it until she was a bit more healed. He also enlisted her in physical therapy as her knee healed - since it had healed stiff - and for her right hand. Again, she was tempted not to go to spite him, but Melissa honestly had no plan to walk with a crutch for the rest of her life.

The only good thing about the entire affair was that Melissa had been able to kill someone again. It was incredibly satisfying.

When the time of John's wedding approached – he was marrying a woman named Mary who Sherlock had never actually permitted Melissa to meet, not that she'd ever asked to – Melissa was shocked when she found that Mycroft had received an invitation. Not that the man was ever intending on going, but the fact that he'd been invited at all had amused her to no end.

He'd mumbled that he should never have told her in the first place, which had only amused her more.

However, a bit before the wedding, Melissa was shocked even more when, through Mycroft, she received word that Mary actually wanted to meet her. Melissa arranged a lunch meeting with the woman, accompanied by secret security arranged by both her and Mycroft.

Mary was waiting when Melissa walked up. "A pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Morstan." Melissa smiled at her.

"I could say the same about you, Ms. Brook."

Melissa took the seat opposite her. "Please, Melissa. Mycroft is the only one who insists on 'Ms. Brook'. I regret to say that I don't know much about you."

"I only know what Sherlock has said." Mary leaned forward. "John still doesn't seem to believe that you're his sister."

They were in her restaurant, but it was still safer not to say anything too specific, a fact Mary had caught onto.

"Well, I suppose it would be difficult to come to terms with the fact he both lived above one and saved the life of the other of his siblings."

"I am sorry about that."

"It happens. People move on."

Mary nodded. "Yes, I understand that you've quite moved on, working for Sherlock's big brother after all."

"He's quite fun. Very amusing to tease, I recommend it."

She moved a napkin towards her, having written a quick note to Mary almost the moment she'd sat down.

I do believe I've seen you before, R

The moment Mary saw it, she stiffened.

Honestly, did you think his sister wouldn't be aware of reformed highly trained assassins?

"You can't tell John."

"I won't tell anyone, don't worry. I have nothing to gain from it." She leaned closer. "No one would have mentioned it to you yet, but I happen to fuck a highly trained assassin of my own. Sebastian Moran. And knowing this about you has only made me like you more. I would love to continue meeting with you on the regular, if you would like."

Mary eyed her for a long while before nodding.

"Wonderful." Melissa took her hand. "Now, promise that you won't attempt to kill me for knowing this. I've had enough attempts on my life recently to last me a long while."

"Yes, I could tell." She nodded loosely at Melissa's right hand, which was one of the final noticeable signs of Melissa's time being tortured. The hand was scarred and she'd yet to actually move it. She also still walked with a bit of a limp, but enough makeup on her face made any scars there barely noticeable.

"Oh, these are from a recent attempt to learn more information about Moran and Sherlock Holmes." Her phone made a noise. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, but I've just been summoned for a call. I must leave you." She stood. "We need to do this again soon, Mary. Much to discuss." She smiled. "And don't worry, I have no proof. I just saw a file years ago. Far too much effort to go look for it." She took another napkin, writing her number. "Next time, contact me yourself. No need to go through Mycroft again."

"Do you think he'll come to the wedding?"

"Oh, I do wish he would, trust me." Melissa smiled. "Until next time, Mary."

~M~

On Melissa's birthday – and the anniversary of Jim and Seamus's deaths – she went to visit Jim's grave, which had been changed to Jim Moriarty instead of Richard Brook upon the news being released. She didn't bring him flowers, as neither of them had ever had any need for flowers. There were a few things left on the grave, seemingly from admirers of her brother's empire.

Melissa just touched it. She'd covered her face just in case she was spotted at his grave. "The Virgin will pay, brother dearest, I promise. I will destroy him."

Why couldn't he have faked it too? Why couldn't he have gone on that rooftop with a real plan for leaving it? Why couldn't he have loved her enough not to leave her?

It had been three years since Jim had shot himself.

Three years since her world had changed forever.

Three years since she'd been alone.

Three years since they'd thought he'd won.

But he hadn't. Not yet. Not while Sherlock Holmes still roamed the world.

Melissa didn't need to discredit him. Jim had already tried that, she already knew that it wouldn't do what she wanted.

She just needed to kill him. She just needed to watch him die like he'd watched Jim.

She just needed to win for him.

She just wanted to win.

Sometimes, Melissa did wonder what their parents would have thought about both her and Jim.

Both their mother and father, divorced, had died when they'd been young, though their father had died first. They'd lost him, named Moriarty, in a plane accident when Melissa and Jim were 16. Her mother had managed to keep it out of the papers for Seamus's sake, who'd only been 11 at the time. The man had never been remarkably wealthy and their mother had, years before, removed him from any of their official documents.

She'd wanted to remove him from her children's lives. Sometimes, Melissa wondered if she'd arranged the plane crash.

But then their mother had died seven years later from cancer. That had been well published in the papers, as her mother had been as much of a socialite as Melissa. And from then on, Melissa had taken her place.

She'd been 23 when she'd taken over the restaurant empire completely, though she'd practically been running it for the years her mother had gotten progressively sick. Almost instantly told to sell because no one had honestly thought that Melissa would be able to run it properly.

Melissa had shown them. She'd shown everyone.

She'd made her mother's restaurant empire into one of the most well-known ones in Britain. Everyone who was anyone knew the name Brook and, now, knew Melissa's face.

And everyone who was anyone knew that, if you asked, Melissa could get you anything you wanted. She'd handle it discreetly for you, make certain the public was none-the-wiser.

She liked to think her mother would have been proud. She had always honestly liked the woman, as much as Melissa could like anyone, of course. Her mother hadn't been a genius of any notable degree, but she'd believed in Melissa. She'd trusted Melissa.

Melissa liked to think she'd been the woman's favorite child. The clever one who'd played at being normal. Jim had never bothered to master the 'normal' for extended periods of time and Seamus had never had the 'clever'.

And that entire time, in the background and out of sight, Jim had started looking into putting his distinct ability to build webs into good use.

He'd started to build an empire of his own, taking their father's name so as to disconnect it from the restaurants. Made himself an identity that lived on its own and looked as real as Jim Brook.

But he'd never forgotten her. He'd never left her.

Until he died.

Melissa stepped away from his grave.

She didn't have time to wonder about dead parents. She needed to win for Jim.

She needed to win for her.

~M~

It was mid-September when Mycroft stepped into Melissa's office and closed the door, leaning against it. "Sherlock has a case against our mutual acquaintance."

Melissa stood immediately. "Why?"

"He didn't say."

No. This wasn't right. This wasn't how it was meant to go.

Melissa knew she was a genius, she knew that she knew how to read people and control people and make them into whatever she wanted. But she also knew that Magnussen was one of the few people she'd never even attempted to understand, to overpower.

Even she admitted he was a dangerous man to cross, though she was lucky in the sense that he had taken a liking to her all those years ago. She'd always been under the impression that he'd found her an equal, of sorts. Perhaps an apprentice. A student in the art of making people do what she liked.

"He's going to ruin himself for this," Mycroft spoke the sentence quietly.

"I'm not going to do anything to stop our mutual acquaintance."

He nodded. "I didn't believe you could."

"Oh, I have no doubt that I could." Mycroft frowned at her. "He likes me, Mycroft. I am fully confident in my ability to turn his attention from your little brother if I were so inclined, but that isn't what I'd need to do, and you know it. I'd need to stop Sherlock Holmes. And even you can't do that."

Mycroft said nothing as he left, but Melissa's phone went off as she did.

Magnussen.

He didn't mention the fact that Sherlock Holmes had begun to look into him, that he was the only man in London who had the chance to go up against Magnussen and do something, though Melissa had no doubt he'd lose.

Magnussen was something beyond Sherlock Holmes.

He was gorgeous.

Once upon a time, if Melissa were to tell the truth, she'd been frightened of Magnussen. Frightened of his knowledge and strength and ability to know everything about anyone.

At least, she'd thought she was afraid.

After a short period of examining her thoughts, Melissa determined that what she felt for Magnussen wasn't fear. It was far from it.

It was admiration. Jealousy.

He was exactly what she wanted to be.

So when this text mentioned that it was finally time for her to see Appledore, Melissa was elated.

A/N: Melissa was captured, Moran sent to save her, she met Mary AND she's been invited to Appledore. An exciting few days for her indeed ;)

Notes on reviews:

blackcat711: The best compliment this story could recieve ;)