Yay! I updated! :) Hurrah! I really honestly have nothing to say here except let me know what you think and thank you to all of my reviewers who are always so kind to leave me special messages that make my day. You guys are the best! :D I don't own Sherlock Holmes, even though I should have the rights after watching the movies on repeat all day today in my sicky hour, but Victoria is mine. Finally there's something. Oh and a special thank you to my awesome beta A Pirate By Any Other Name.

Sherlock Holmes: The Dark Before Dawn

Paying The Debts

Human beings in a mob... What's a mob to a king? What's a king to a god? What's a god to a nonbeliever, who don't believe in anything? We make it out alive, alright alright, no church in the wild.

Sometimes it only takes a simple mistake for someone to realize just how much they're missing, and sometimes that mistake wasn't a mistake after all. One-sided people can't see past their own noses and a mistake is just that: a mistake. They fail to see the good things hidden behind the mistake, threatening to be demolished completely as more people lose faith. But faith isn't something that should be forgotten. Sometimes it only takes a little faith to turn something completely around... almost like they were never gone in the first place.

Mistakes were made, problems weren't solved and everything was just going to chaos. Perhaps some people should learn to take their own advice instead of just waiting around for someone else to solve their issues for them. If even a single person lives their life like that, everything starts to go downhill from their position in the world. It doesn't get fixed, it simply keeps decreasing and decreasing until there's simply nothing left to live for. Maybe that's why people disappear... They're never really gone, just biding their time until they realize what their true potential in life is. The people that seem to disappear never really leave us; they're always around in every turn of a corner. Sometimes it takes a year or two for someone to realize the truth behind their own lives.

The truth.

What is the truth nowadays? Everyone seems to have a different opinion about what exactly truth is. And yet, is anyone truly wrong? Truth is a character of space, something that fills up the holes in people's hearts and has them begging for more. What's even funnier is how truth and faith completely contradict each other. To be truthful is to say something is fact, to be faithful is to wish for something that may or may not come true. So which is right and which is wrong? No one can be certain. However, it is up to oneself to determine which is more beneficial in the long run. Sometimes it only takes a single moment in time for someone to be completely changed.

As she knelt beside the pillar that everyone in London had seen a million times, she felt a stabbing pain in her chest repeatedly. Indirectly, she knew that this was all her fault. She was the reason behind it all; she was the reason behind this innocent man's death. She knew it in the pit of her stomach. There was simply no other way around the truth. She had no faith left, there was nothing left to live for... The only reason that she was still around was because there was always some hope that she could find him, but that hope had been shattered with a single thought. And now the proof in front of her was more than she could possibly handle. It simply was not okay. It all came down to that.

She was broken and alone, and she wasn't sure how much more she could take.

Another deep breath in and out. Another small touch of his name. Another sigh. Another depressing thought. It was the same repetition over and over again, nothing changed. Nothing could possibly change this disaster. Her lip trembled as she sunk lower on the cold marbled ground. She would never admit this to anyone else, but she was done for. She was simply waiting for the end to come.

It would come sooner than she would expect.

The door creaking open was the first indication that something was amiss. She swiveled her head around, quickly wiping away her tears and smoothening out her dress. She had to look like she belonged here. She was nothing but a part of the old church, a part of the furniture. It was like she was never even here. She stood dead still, hoping that it was just the wind. Deep down, she wasn't convinced.

She was silent as the tears continued to pour down her face. The guilt still washed over her like a tidal wave, and she took a shaky deep breath. This was happening and there was no way around it. The end was near.

The second indication was the footsteps. No, it wasn't the wind after all. Someone was here, and she was pretty positive that they were here for her. Why else would anyone come in this old church? There was no other reason. Oh yes, the end was definitely near.

"Who's there?" she questioned, her statement coming out more as a whisper than a shout.

The smirk was the first thing that she saw, and to her own surprise, she breathed out a sigh... one of relief. It was then that Irene Adler accepted defeat, for the first time in her entire life. Despite it all, she had never felt like this before and she wasn't planning on changing back anytime soon. There was no way she could, not after this. The Moriartys had won. It was time to give in.

The woman herself appeared around the back of another pillar towards the back of the church, flinging her black hair over her shoulder. "Just a concerned citizen," she sneered, the smirk growing wider and wider on her face until it seemed like that was the only thing left of her.

"What the hell do you want?" Irene shook her head, looking away from the Moriarty girl. "Can't you just leave me alone?"

Irene could almost feel the eye roll radiating from Victoria as she took a few more steps towards the engraved pillar in the front of the church. She took another deep breath, closing her eyes. This was the end, and surprisingly, she welcomed it.

"I was just going to let you grieve forever until it drove you insane," came Victoria's eventual answer. "But then I realized something."

"And what was that?"

This time, as the old wooden church door blew shut once more, it really was the wind. Or did she not come alone? The thought gave Irene a sense of pride. Did Victoria not think she could handle me alone? Am I really that much a threat to her? She shivered from the draft from the cold wind that had closed the door and kept her eyes squeezed shut. There was something there that wasn't there before.

Irene didn't know how close Victoria had gotten to her until she could feel the younger woman's breath on the back of her neck. "You're a wanted woman," she responded, her voice becoming lower and more threatening.

Irene clenched her jaw, slowly getting to her feet. She cocked her head to one side, letting out a forced breath. "Are you planning on kidnapping me?" she asked at last.

"Not quite," Victoria shrugged, her grin widening. "You see, I don't want to use force, but I will if it's necessary. It all depends on you, my dear."

Irene made an exasperated face, "Oh that's a load of bullshit."

"Is it?" Victoria questioned, her face becoming smugger by the moment. "Is it really?"

Irene chose to ignore the comments, trying to be the better person in this scenario. She held up her hand as if to slap Victoria and then lowered it, looking down at the floor. If she was going to die, it might as well be not in vain. She couldn't do this. She sighed, "What do you have planned now? Another deal going to made? Another employmentship? Another person to murder? Another set of lives to ruin?"

Victoria let out a little cackle, "That wasn't my fault."

The smirk was enough. Irene clenched her teeth together and heaved another sigh, trying to resist the urge to seriously hurt this woman. She knew that would be only stooping down to Victoria's level, and she refused to do that no matter what. Instead, she chose to simply choose her words carefully. "Of course not," she finally said. "When is anything your or your family's fault?"

"Your words hurt my dear," she responded sarcastically. "But I have a different plan for you, death would be too easy."

"Which would be?"

Victoria stared her down like she was some sort of prey, "Removing you from a scenario before it's too late."

"Too late?" asked Irene, truly curious to what the younger woman meant. "Too late for what?"

"For you to be saved."

That was the last comment she expected Victoria to say. Irene couldn't help the way her mouth dropped open, or the way she thought of responses in her head but couldn't form them into actual words. It was a complicated surprising feeling for Irene, and she wasn't exactly sure how to deal with it. So she didn't say a word.

Victoria knew exactly how to continue however, "I saved your ass once, and I can do it again can't I?"

"One debt is far too many," Irene finally spit out.

Victoria laughed again, "Oh please, you don't know a thing about debts."

There was another pause in the debate - er conversation - and Irene diverted her eyes from the stare that Victoria was currently giving her. There was something about this woman that made her skin crawl and she couldn't bear to even attempt another battle that she only knew she would lose yet again. There had to be something...

"So from whom exactly am I being saved from?" coughed Irene, not exactly knowing what else to say.

Victoria made a face, obviously annoyed at having to explain herself. "Who else knows you're alive other than me... and wants you to themselves?" She paused for a moment as Irene's brain whirred faster than the speed of light. "Who else knows your secrets and surprises?" she continued. "Who else is clever enough to figure this whole thing out? Who else may find you here, stumbling alone in the dark? Who else would not hesitate to do whatever is necessary to get what they want?"

As the raven-haired woman stumbled out of breath, Irene's heart hammered in her chest. She had a feeling that this just wasn't about someone else finding her anymore, no this was something far bigger and far more dangerous. But then again, what did she have to lose? She knew exactly what Victoria was talking about, and if she could somehow figure out what she was planning, the danger would grow to be even greater, with a better reward she might add. The decisions were uncanny.

"Watson is clever enough to find you," Irene looked up from her fixed spot on the floor at last.

There was a trill of laughter as Victoria finally caught her breath. "You honestly think I don't know that?" she questioned. "I hope he finds me. Oh, I hope he finds me and sees the master work that I have done. Maybe then he'll start realizing that I'm more dangerous than he had ever realized. Maybe then he'll discover the truth about his beloved Sherlock Holmes."

As Victoria's rant grew deeper and deeper, her voice raised at an alarming rate, causing even the large wooden doors to shake. Irene took a step back in fear, not exactly sure what she was going to do. Without warning, the doors to the old church burst open, almost on their own, and rapid gunfire sounded throughout the rooms. Irene ducked to the floor, instantly covering her head, until she was yanked to her feet not a moment later by small yet rough hands. She felt the cool blade at her throat before she had time to react any differently, and she was pulled reluctantly into the shadows before the guns could reach her.

"Don't think you're getting away that easily," sneered Victoria from behind her as Irene was pushed up the stairs into the balcony of the church. Irene didn't make a sound. She still didn't know who was behind the guns, and she wasn't exactly sure if she wished to find out. She gulped in a small breath of air before they entered a stale musty room above the main floor of the church. The knife moved away from her neck as she collapsed to the ground, desperate to find something to aid herself against both the gunmen and Victoria. There was nothing, and there would be nothing until the end of time.

The dust settled as the gunfire stopped for a moment, although Irene didn't dare get up from off the ground. She didn't know where Victoria was and, as defiant as she was, she wasn't sure how much she was willing to risk for the safety of not only herself but Watson. Victoria knew about their connection and wouldn't hesitate to use that against her. She knew how much Victoria was similar to her father, and Irene wasn't about to take any chances that could end someone's life.

"Stop it!" came the shout of a woman's voice, one that was unfamiliar to Irene, but it didn't sound like one of a killer. Let alone anyone that could handle a gun.

There was a quiet, yet audible shush, and then the creaking of a floorboard as another person walked across the ground floor of the old church. Irene breathed a sigh of relief, maybe these people were here to rescue her, not kill her. As she slowly pulled herself to the edge of the balcony to see who the intruders were, she was pulled to her feet once more. It seemed Victoria hadn't left her after all. She sighed, thrashing in frustration.

The knife returned, and with it came threatening words, "Make a move and I won't pause one moment before pulling this trigger and ending the life of your precious doctor friend down there. You'll have killed one more person."

The blood in Irene's body ran cold as she realized that it was Watson who was down there, come to save her. Relief washed over her, replaced by fear a moment later. Watson was hard on Victoria's heels, meaning that the Moriarty woman wasn't as clever as she thought she was, but then again... she was just a pawn in Victoria's game... one that Watson and his companion were about to involve themselves deeper into. She had ruined their lives again.

"Looking for this?" taunted Victoria, raising her voice so it was heard around the church. Watson and his companion instantly glanced up in their direction, and Irene averted her eyes. She couldn't bear to look them in the eyes. If only they knew why she wasn't fighting... There was a bigger reason than her own and their protection. There was something that only she (and now Victoria) knew... Why was this so hard? Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, becoming suddenly overcome with emotion.

"Irene!" shouted Watson in that concerned voice that Irene knew well. "My God, what have you done to her?"

Victoria let out another cackle, causing Irene to shiver involuntarily. "If only you knew everything Doctor," she hissed. "If only you knew what I have in store. It would chill you to the bone. You think what my father did was horrible? Multiple that by ten. You know nothing yet."

Irene missed who fired the shot. She heard the bullet explode from the handgun, slam into the wall directly next to Victoria, and felt the searing pain at her throat as Victoria dug the blade in deeper. She bit her lip, trying to force back the gasp of pain that was working its way out of her mouth. She wouldn't let them have that satisfaction.

"I thought better of you Doctor," Victoria smirked. "You wouldn't want to lose her, would you?" Blood trickled down the side of Irene's neck as the knife cut a small sliver of a wound.

Watson reached out towards them as if he could grab them both. "Stop this madness!"

His companion took a step, too, and Irene finally glanced up, pleading both of them with her eyes. She couldn't let them get involved. Not this time, not like this. She locked eyes with the doctor first, hoping he would understand someday if not today. "Please," she mouthed.

Watson hesitated for a moment before pocketing his gun and turning towards the frizzy-haired woman standing beside him. His companion frowned, not understanding what the doctor was trying to say, but Irene knew what he was attempting to explain to her. It was complicated. The woman looked up once into Irene's eyes, shifting into slits as she looked past Irene and at Victoria, before she spun on her heels and stalked out the door.

"Don't think this isn't over Victoria!" Watson shook his hand in the Moriarty girl's direction, but Victoria didn't phase one bit.

She simpered, "I'll look forward to the next time we meet Doctor Watson."

Only when the duo had left the old church and were long gone did Victoria release her grip on Irene, sending her sprawling once more across the floor. She rolled onto her back, clutching at her neck wound and trying to make sense of this all. When did it go so wrong? She had to laugh at herself. Of course.

It had gone wrong since the moment she had met Sherlock Holmes.