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Just a reminder… this story is rated M for a reason and not advised for those under the age of 18… legally…

Just a reminder .

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Sherlock sighed as he sat in the hospital, next to Kylie's bed. He ached all over from sitting so long in this uncomfortable chair.

They had been here for far too long.

He glanced over at John, sitting in the chair on the opposite side of the bed. He shifted uncomfortably as well as he read the paper, obviously feeling the same way about the damn chairs as he did.

Sherlock looked back at the woman in the bed. He wasn't a religious man; he didn't believe in God, a higher power, or Mother Nature. He believed in science, but he found himself praying to Science that Kylie Gibbs would wake up soon.

She had been unconscious for nearly 36 hours now. The doctors had claimed that her injuries were not as bad as they seemed. The stab wound to her shoulder needed time and monitoring, but the doctors believed she could heal without requiring more surgery. It was the concussion and hairline skull fracture that they were worried about.

John had told him that the type of concussion she had received was about as bad as concussions got. The swelling and injury to her brain had kept her unconscious this long, but the doctors seemed to be positive about her progress with the scans she had had every ten hours. They assured him that it was only a matter of time before she woke up.

Died. She had almost died. He had almost lost her… for good.

Sherlock inhaled sharply out of reflex as he pushed the uncomfortable thought out of his mind. His mind however, had a different agenda as it took him back to when he had run onto the boat. It was a miracle that they had gotten there in time. A second later, and Kylie would be downstairs in the morgue with Irene.

They had arrived on the Marina and began looking for a needle in a haystack. They had no idea what the boat looked like, or was… they only had hope and conjecture. It was only when they had heard Kylie scream Irene's name that they had been able to find them. The SWAT team had swarmed inside the cabin. Sherlock had shoved his way in with them, against orders. He hadn't cared. At that moment in times, his biggest worry had been getting to Kylie.

Guilt filled him as he reflected back on the moment. He hadn't cared at that initial moment that Irene was lying dead on the floor. His one and only thought was 'please let Kylie be alive'.

If he had cleared his mind… if he hadn't been so preoccupied with worry, he would have found them. Irene Adler may still be alive if he had.

He didn't do feelings. He swore he didn't feel sometimes; but the moment he had arrived on that boat his heart had dropped into his stomach, his blood pressure elevated substantially, and his heart had stopped beating all together when he saw Irene dead on the floor and Kylie bloody, half-conscious, and tied to the bed. It had scared him, scared him more than anything he ever imagined. Sherlock Holmes had stood up to criminal masterminds, psychopaths, mass murders, and pretty much anything you could imagine… but the sight of the woman he loved hurt and bloodied scared him more than anything he had experienced.

Sherlock stiffened as if he had been struck by lightning.

Had he really just thought that?

…the woman I …love?

Love. What a despicable word. Love was a dangerous disadvantage. That had been proven to him again and again. Love and feelings hazed logic. Irene was the perfect example of that. He had beaten her at her own game she so expertly played because of emotion.

But then why did it feel so good to have her next to him again?

Sherlock fought not to roll his eyes at himself. He hadn't had these thoughts in ages, but once he set eyes on the auburn-haired anthropologist, the feelings had came flooding back.

He didn't understand it. He never had. John had tried to explain it to him many times, but stopped after Sherlock began reading his emails to Mary in a public domain. John kept telling him he was in love with Kyleigha Gibbs, but Sherlock knew he was stronger than to succumb to "normal feelings".

He looked down at Kylie's unconscious body lying on the bed. She shifted slightly, causing him to smile.

John noticed the movement as well.

"She's waking up," he commented as he noted the heart rate monitor.

Sherlock felt himself grab her hand.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

Being pitiful, that's what.

Shut up.

Kylie squirmed a little more as consciousness began to overtake her body.

"Kylie?" Sherlock heard himself say softly, urging her to open her eyes.

Why are you holding her hand?

I don't know, the same reason your heart is racing?

….

Kylie's eyes fluttered open as she blinked a few times, looking around the room in slight confusion. Her eyes finally settled on Sherlock.

"Hey," she said quietly as she sighed and closed her eyes once more, fighting the grogginess, "Look who decided not to go jump off a building this round in the hospital."

John snorted with bitter laughter, as Sherlock grinned.

"Dying was so three years ago," he commented lightly.

Kylie laughed and regretted it immediately as she began coughing violently. She made to sit up, but John and Sherlock gently prevented her as her shoulder was still bandaged and stitched.

Her coughing subsided as John poured her some water, gently helping her drink.

She thanked him quietly as she looked down at her arm, the memories of how she had gotten there slowly began coming back.

The cuts all over her arms and body.

The knife.

The bruises that now decorated her wrists and neck.

The restraints.

The way her throat hurt every time she tried to swallow.

His hand clamping around it.

Her shoulder in a sling.

The pounding in her head.

Irene.

Irene.

"Irene, did she…?"

Sherlock was silent. His eyes just dropped to the bed, toying with Kylie's fingers once more.

"She didn't make it," John told her quietly, seeing Sherlock's reaction.

Kylie looked down, letting the loss of Irene Adler hit her.

"She saved my life," she said quietly, "She was working for Harringer. She brought him the Ketamine and told me that he had given her an ultimatum; her life or mine. I thought she had left me to die, but she came back… she saved my life. She tried to help me escape."

Kylie felt a few tears run down her face, stinging slightly as she went to wipe them away, feeling a cut and steri-strips holding the cut together.

The hand holding hers, squeezed her hand in support, causing her to smile and look down at it. She looked up at the man holding it.

"I'm sorry Sherlock. I couldn't save her," she told him quietly as her voice broke.

Sherlock didn't say anything. He was too afraid to speak. Instead he just nodded and began toying with her fingers, trying to push away the guilt and emotion he felt.

A heavy silence took over the room until Lestrade and Charlie walked in a few moments later.

"Hey! Look who decided to join the living once more!" Charlie said with a smile as he walked in.

Kylie smiled weakly at him as he came over and kissed her cheek. Lestrade did the same, before pulling back and smiling at her.

"Good to see you are awake, Ky."

"Thanks," Kylie said groggily as she still willed her head from not pounding, "Did someone contact Irene's next of kin?"

"Irene doesn't have any family, but we were able to get a hold of her PA," Lestrade told her solemnly, slightly taken aback that that was nearly the first thing out of her mouth, "She's on her way over."

Kylie nodded slightly.

"And Harringer?"

"Being held at the FBI right now," Charlie said as he plopped down in the chair next to John, "I still cant believe it was him."

Kylie smirked and closed her eyes, trying to push away the pain, "You never do."

"The one thing I don't get though, "Lestrade commented as he leaned up against the wall, still not comfortable with the closure on the case, "Harringer was not the voice I heard on the phone."

The room went silent and all the heads in the room immediately turned to him.

"What do you mean?" John asked, "You think there's another psychopath out there?"

"I don't know!" Lestrade said, "I'm pretty goo with voices and I know that the voice on the phone, telling me to bring Sherlock, wasn't Harringer."

Kylie frowned. That couldn't be right. Harringer worked alone. He had only recruited Irene for the drugs and information…

Then it clicked…

"Son of a bitch…" Kylie muttered.

Sherlock looked at her.

"You know who it was?"

"Its not another killer. It was just a prank."

"A prank?"

"Yeah, someone at the FBI who overheard it," Kylie quickly lied, hoping she wasn't showing it.

"Who?" Charlie asked, extremely confused.

"Uh….Young, in forensics," Kylie lied.

The last thing she needed right now was Sherlock throwing a fit over the caller's identity.

"Who the hell is Young?" Charlie asked.

"Some new transfer. Recruited him from Britain," Kylie made up.

"We know everyone in forensics…"

Kylie threw him a look, telling him to shut up.

Charlie gave her a puzzled look, but decided to drop it, shutting up immediately.

Everyone else in the room looked between the two of them, lost in the dynamic of their relationship.

BEEP

Charlie gave Kylie one last bewildered look before pulling out his phone, "I gotta head back to the office. Finish up the paperwork," he said while he stood up, making to walk out of the room. Before he left, he paused by the door, thinking about something for a moment.

"Oh, maybe this is a good time to tell you… because Im leaving and you are restrained to a bed… We are up a shit creek with Hastings and I may have called your Dad."

"YOU WHAT?" Kylie yelled as her eyes went wide.

"Bye!" Charlie said cheekily before he disappeared out the door.

"CHARLIE YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Lestrade raised an eyebrow at her as Kylie took a deep breath, running a hand over her face.

"I take it you didn't want your Dad to know?"

"Not unless you want my father storming down here and kicking my ass publically for going undercover in the first place."

"I take it this is a bad time?"

The sound of a new voice, caused everyone to stop and turn, only to find Mycroft Holmes standing in the doorway, a small politician's polite smile on his face.

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked, slightly outraged his brother had made a sudden appearance.

"Business with the US Navy," Mycroft informed him, "Not anything we need to discuss."

John rolled his eyes.

Always with the power complex.

"Glad to see you are awake Miss Gibbs."

"Thank you Mycroft."

"I can arrange for Miss Adler's body to be transported back to London if need be," Mycroft offered.

Sherlock just kept glaring at his brother.

"What is the real reason you are here, Mycroft?" Sherlock asked.

Mycroft smiled at him, "I heard the unfortunate news about Miss Adler and that Kylie was here in the hospital so I came to see how she was doing…"

"Since when do you call her Kylie?" Sherlock argued as he began to get protective, for what reason he didn't know.

…you know….

Kylie saw John smirk out of the corner of her eye as she reached over and subtly tried to squeeze Sherlock's hand, trying to get him to relax slightly.

"Hey, why don't you guys go to the hotel, shower, eat something and get some sleep? God knows you both look like you haven't done any of those things in days."

Sherlock looked at her. It was in the moment that Kylie could see that he did not want to leave.

"I'll still be here when you get back. No offense, but you lot look like crap."

Lestrade laughed and stood up, "Look who's calling the kettle black."

John chuckled as well as he stood, "Come on Sherlock. She's right. We'll be back in an hour."

Sherlock stared at her, not breaking eye contact, as if he were pleading with her to let him stay.

"Go," she said smiling at him softly.

He sighed, standing up and slowly leaving the room with John and Lestrade, leaving just her and Mycroft in the room.

Kylie looked over at him as he sat down in the chair his younger brother had previously occupied.

"You're a rat bastard, you know that?" Kylie asked him as she fiddled with the morphine pump, trying to turn it down from the bare minimum it was at.

"And why is that Miss Gibbs?" Mycroft asked.

"You are the one who called Lestrade."

Mycroft paused for a moment, raising an eyebrow at her.

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Bullshit," Kylie countered immediately, "You were the one who showed up at my office, tried to get me to reestablish contact with Sherlock, and when I refused, you took your chance. You saw that the Ripper case had been reopened, or overheard it as Charlie and I walked in. Let me guess? You tapped the phone lines of a secure Federal building? Heard me ask Lestrade not to bring Sherlock or get him involved? Then I'm assuming you had one of your lower level flunkies call and tell Lestrade to bring him… all so your little brother wouldn't be alone and he would have a built in babysitter when John moved out."

Mycroft smiled at her, "That wasn't the reason. You really are a clever, aren't you?"

Kylie smiled at him.

"You really do want Sherlock and I to get back together, don't you? That's why you came to my office. You knew John was moving out, but it wasn't just about that."

Mycroft smiled at her before dropping his gaze, "You make my brother genuinely happy and you are one of the few people who can save him from himself."

Kylie smiled at him. Sherlock despised his brother for some reason that Kylie had no clue of. Kylie had always thought that Mycroft had other agendas other than actually helping Sherlock, but this made her think otherwise.

"Are you considering moving back to London?" he asked.

…. And back to his agenda….

"Sherlock asked me to move into Baker Street," Kylie told him quietly.

The Iceman's face broke into one of blatant shock; a look Kylie had never seen before on the elder Holmes.

Kylie laughed bitterly.

"Yeah, I know. That was about the same look I had on my face when he asked me."

"So are you two…?"

Kylie shook her head, "We aren't back together. I just think he asked me so he wouldn't be alone."

"I can tell you, that is not the case."

Kylie shrugged and shook her head.

"I think it is, Mycroft. I really don't think we can get back together and have everything go back to how it was. I have a life here. I'm not just going to drop it on a whim just for him to pull away from me again. I love him, but I cant go through that again."

Mycroft stared at her for a moment, choosing his words wisely.

"My brother is very particular in who he chooses to be around. He had four people in his address book: John, Lestrade, myself, and you. That is it. The fact that he is still here after the case, holding your hand and refusing to leave your side, should be enough evidence that things have changed. You are more clever than that Miss Gibbs."

Don't forget the fact that he kissed you…

Kylie's heart fluttered at the memory, causing the heart monitor to beep loudly.

Mycroft smirk as he saw the physiological changes affect the young woman in front of him.

"Though he may not admit it, my brother has allowed you to enter his life once more. He cares for you deeply," he told her as he stood up and made to leave, "You have a much greater effect on him than you believe."

And with that, Mycroft left the room, leaving Kylie with a lot of pain, confusion, and memories running through her mind as she debated what the next step in her life was.

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