A/N: Oh god, I am such a bad author. I've been all "So, just another week guys, I promise!" and then slink back all embarassed three weeks later. So... no more promises on that front, because I feel bad not keeping them. But this story won't leave me alone, and it's been glaring accusingly at me all week from my desktop. IT WILL GET DONE, I PROMISE THIS MUCH. Happy 4th of July to American readers. To everyone else, I hope you also have a wonderful day filled with laughter and Sherlock!


The King's City was rejoicing by the time Sherlock and Molly arrived. The sun was beginning to set, casting the city skyline in an orange glow. They pushed through the crowd, heading towards the castle.

"Wait," Sherlock said as they came into a street, the shops pushed back from the road. "I need to purchase some thing."

"Now?" Molly asked incredulously, but Sherlock was already sliding off Toby into the crowd. Molly sighed and began to nudge Toby to the side of the street.

"They're coming!" A woman called from the end of the street and suddenly the people parted down the middle, leaving a large space running down. Molly stared in surprise as a parade rounded the corner, musicians and dancers weaving their way in front of John and the rest of the company. The crowd erupted into cheers and the soldiers waved back, but there was something subdued about the way they moved.

Still, something had brought them here, Molly was sure.

"John!" she called, pushing Toby forward so she could walk along side her captain.

"Molly?" John asked, surprised, before he frowned and his eyes hardened. "What are you doing here? I sent you home."

Former captain, then. "John, Moriarty's alive."

"I've had enough of this, Molly," John said flatly, urging his horse past her.

"John!" Molly snapped at Toby's reigns at she wheeled forwards, stopping in front of John's horse so he couldn't move. The company had stopped moving, and the men were staring at her. "I saw them come out of the snow. They're here, in the city. You have to believe me!"

"Why should I?" John hissed, glancing around. "Where's Sherlock? Is he trying to set up another one of his tricks?"

"We came to help," Molly insisted. "We couldn't just leave you here."

"You don't belong here, Molly," John said, looking down the street and away from meeting her eyes. "I ordered you to leave."

"You did that once before, and I didn't leave," Molly pointed out. "John, I promise you I'm not lying!"

"Why should I believe you?" John hissed, "What have you done that would earn you any trust?"

"I destroyed most of Moriarty's army. I saved the company. I saved you."

"Sherringford Hooper did those things. And he died in the mountains," John snapped before leading his horse around hers and continuing forward, not looking back.

"Molly?" Donovan asked, shifting his flag to the other side. "What's happened?"

"Moriarty's in the city," Molly told him and Anderson, pointedly ignoring Sebastian's sneering face. "Keep an eye out."

Donovan nodded, looking grim, and Molly wheeled her horse away and back into the crowd to find Sherlock.

He was at the end of an alley, tucking something into his coat and walking away from a shadowy figure.

"Sherlock?" Molly asked, glancing down the alley. Sherlock ignored her and climbed up behind her.

"To the castle walls, Molly," Sherlock said, all his attention on the bundle in his hands. Molly shook her head and navigated through the city, leading Toby to the walls and turning the corner, nudging them just beyond the view of the guards. "What did you get?"

"Just a moment," Sherlock said, holding up his little pair of scissors. "I need a lock of your hair."

"What's this for?" Molly asked, holding out a strand forward for Sherlock to snip.

"Simple spell to amplify our connection. It might be very helpful," he replied, threading her hair into a little bronze charm on a thin rope necklace. Off his wrist hung an identical charm, this one with black, curly strands within. He whispered a few words into his palms and the necklaces glowed brightly for a moment.

"Take this," he said, placing the charm with his own hair around Molly's neck. "If you need me, circle the charm three times with your forefinger. It'll snap me right to you, even if I'm out of energy."

"Where are you going?" Molly asked, checking to make sure the rope was secure. "You can't go too far without me."

"When we were at the training camp, I could go as far as the camp bounds. When we're in the castle-"

"You'll be able to move freely about no matter how far?" Molly guessed.

Sherlock shot her an annoyed look as he unwrapped his second parcel. "Don't ask if you're just going to interrupt me. Now, put this on."

"What is it?" Molly asked curiously as he shook out the fabric, revealing a long brown cloak.

"It will make you invisible," Sherlock explained, settling it on Molly's shoulders.

"What?" Molly exclaimed. She stared at the rough brown fabric before she glanced at Sherlock. "How did you get this?"

"Now is not the time," Sherlock huffed, tying the cloak into place and flipping up the hid. "It works. Excellent."

"It does?" Molly could still see herself just fine.

"Make sure your hood doesn't fall off or you'll be visible. And people will still be able to hear you or feel you if they bump into so pay attention!"

"What's the plan?" Molly asked, watching Sherlock mount Toby once more.

"Get into the castle yard with everyone else. Mycroft will be greeting John and the Company in front of the City, and given Moriarty's fondness for theatrics, that's when he will strike. I'm going to find them within the castle while you keep an eye out here."

"Can you handle everything okay?" Molly asked. "I mean, you still haven't recovered all the way-"

"We don't have any other options," Sherlock said quietly.

"Then we'll make it work," Molly agreed. She smiled, even though Sherlock couldn't see her, and reached up to squeeze his hand. "Good luck."

Sherlock shook his head, derisively fond, before he turned Toby around to pass through the gates. Molly turned to case the castle wall, trying to see if Moriarty and his men were trying to get in another way. She walked the wall three times, turning up absolutely nothing. A great roar of cheer alerted her to the arrival of the parade, and Molly followed them at the back, ducking out of people's way.

Please, she thought, closing her eyes, Please let Sherlock succeed.


Mycroft's security was atrocious. His brother had become too confident, too secure in his own power. The guards barely glanced Sherlock's way, looking away once they saw he had no bags on him. Sherlock left Toby outside the stables, flipping a stable boy a few gold coins to make sure he wouldn't be bothered loosely tethered to one of the hitching posts. Slipping into the castle itself was also child's play, the castle to busy with preparation with the night's coming festivities to pay him much notice.

Sherlock snuck into the servant's quarters and stole a uniform, safely stowing his coat behind an empty suit of armor. He snagged a tray of food left unguarded in the kitchen and made his way to the royal living quarters. Knowing his brother, no one would bat an eye at a servant delivering food to King Mycroft's room, even at odd hours.

But Molly was right. He wasn't recovered, not enough, so he didn't sense the trap in the hallway until he had already walked right into it. The light blazed about the chalk on the floor and Sherlock found himself unable to cross the wall of fire that encircled him.

The Woman danced her way out of one of the doorways, clapping her hands in delight.

"Sherlock," she cooed, "What a surprise!"

"You were expecting me, Lady," Sherlock replied, ditching the tray as he gestured at the fire.

"It's Irene at the moment. I wondered if you might come," the Woman continued, "But I wasn't sure. It wouldn't be for your brother, but I didn't know just how much that captain meant to you."

"You leave John alone," Sherlock hissed, knowing it was far too late to hide it.

"Oh Sherlock, what has become of you?" Irene asked, pouting with fake sympathy. "What was it you once told me about humans? 'Never get attached,' wasn't it? And now you have two little pets. Well, a pet and a mistress, technically."

"Is that why you agreed to help Moriarty?" Sherlock asked, narrowing his eyes. "Molly?"

Irene smiled nastily, but she ignored his question. "Oh, Moriarty can't wait to get his hands on that girl. She nearly defeated him, and he's mutilated people for less. I almost feel bad for the poor child. But," she paused and leaned forward so she could look straight into Sherlock's eyes. "It won't be anything compared to what I'm going to do with John."

Sherlock growled, a sound deep his throat. It was something he hadn't done in a very, very long time. But here, faced with Irene, the Woman, the Red Lady, it was almost impossible not to revert to what he used to be, not when she threatened to take away everything he had.

"I'm going to eat him alive," she continued, licking her lips eagerly. "I'm going to make him watch as I eat little bits of him. I'll probably do it in front of you. If you behave, I might even let you have the first bite of his heart."

Sherlock snarled wordlessly, and he toed the edge of the circle, as close to the flames as he could get.

"I will kill you," Sherlock promised her. "I swear I will kill you!"

"How?" Irene asked, throwing her head back and laughing. "Oh Sherlock, you're normally so observant. How did you miss the writing?"

"Writing?" Sherlock repeated, glancing down at the chalk beneath his feet. Irene held out her hand and said a Word.

Sherlock screamed, an ancient, pained sound that echoed through the castle. His power began to rush out of him and into the stone floor and walls, draining him. He sagged to his knees, and then collapsed completely, barely able to keep his eyes open. Irene crouched near the edge of the circle.

"You were part of my plan, you know," Irene said, placing her hand in the fire and extinguishing it. Sherlock tried to back away, but he was only able to shakily push himself up onto his elbows. "You might hate Mycroft, but you're one of the only weak spots he has. He'll give everything up for you."

Sherlock reached for the barest reaches of his power, trying to gather it up. Irene slipped a bag out of her sleeve and used a handkerchief to carefully draw a silver collar out of it.

"I've been waiting for this, Sherlock," she whispered, reaching for his neck.

There was a twinge in his chest, a tugging in his stomach. Sherlock, for a fleeting moment, thought it was fear before the stone dissolved from beneath his hands and knees and he was pulled away. He arrived on the grass behind a screaming crowd. He looked up in time to see Moriarty and his men pull Mycroft and Lady Anthea behind the castle's main doors as they swung shut.