Hello guys 😊 Hope you all like this chapter. I am still writing it on my phone so sorry for any mistakes or missing capital letters. It's anoying I know but it's too fiddly to correct right now. Let me know what you think. Reviews feed the muse. You don't even need to sign in to review 😊 cheers. Lee xo

A jarring motion and loud clangs woke Victoria and she squinted at the roof of the ambulance. She felt groggy and overwhelmed by the sounds and light.

"Sherlock?" she groaned. He was with her just a moment ago.

A man's face came into her line of sight. "Hi Victoria, my name is Stephen. we're taking you up to the hospital now ok?"

She closed her eyes to escape the sharp pains the light inflicted in her head.

"Sherlock?" where was he?

A hand held on to hers . It was rougher than Sherlock's and the fingers were not Sherlock's long slender ones. The person soothed their thumb over the back of her hand and she heard their voice talking to the paramedics in an official tone. John then. She relaxed knowing John was with her. But where was Sherlock.

Victoria woke again unable to move. She opened her eyes to a stark white surface just inches from her face. Quelling the panic in her stomach she tried to move again. Nothing. She blinked slowly. God her head hurt. Was she dead? No. Being dead wouldn't hurt this much and the morgue was not this noisy. She closed her eyes again and let the darkness take her.

She scrunched her face at the insistent beeping. She put her hand out to turn her alarm off but something tugged at it. She opened her eyes and saw an I.V. running from her hand. She followed the line up to a bag. Great. She was in a hospital bed. Movement from the window caught her eye. In the corridor Sherlock was yelling at Mycroft. Mycroft just stood nodding his head solemnly. Wait. Why wasn't he arguing back? She moaned in protests as her eyes started to droop. John appeared in the window, trying to calm the detective who just threw his arms up and stormed off. Darkness.

Her eyelids were heavy. She wanted so desperately to open her eyes and saw who it was sitting next to her bed eating what sounded like rice crackers. Sherlock hates rice crackers. He gets annoyed with the sound of even his own eating. Mycroft on the other hand...

She turned her head to the side slightly and forced her eyes open. Mycroft sat eating while reading the newspaper. Her eyes slid shut again.

"she's waking up."

"how could you possibly know that Sherlock?"

"her breathing has changed."

Victoria choked on what would have been a snort of laughter if her throat hadn't been so dry. John held a straw up to her lips and she drank the now stale water. Opening her eyes properly she saw Mycroft asleep on the bed next to her, John standing beside her bed and Sherlock, finally, seated in the chair by her bed. She smiled at him and lay back knowing finally that he was ok.

"what happened?" She rasped, her throat still try.

"the official story is you were home alone, went to get some pain killers, fell and knocked yourself out."

She frowned at Sherlock. Why did she need a story? She tried thinking back to what got her in here.

She screamed out kicking her legs against the doors and pushing them both back into the bench. His arms scrambled to keep a hold of her.

Victoria rubbed her head wincing at the lump on it.

Hall stood there holding two pills in his hand. "I'm not a bad guy Vicky. I'm a business man. I make deals.

"So what really happened?" she asked Sherlock. His eyes softened.

"I don't know for sure. You mentioned Hall so it is clear he followed us from the funeral back to the house. When you were alone I believe he came to either bargain with you or threaten you. The fact that you are still alive means he has plans which include you. That would leave me to believe he was trying to make a deal. The fact that he knocked you out so catastrophically would indicate you made him furious. Clearly you turned down his plans."

"the pills. What did he give me?"

"Regular ibuprofen. The state you were in when we arrived was typical of a severe concussion. However your statement about pills had John concerned about drugs. He clearly hasn't seen you on them... you're much more coherent." Sherlock slipped a smile her way.

"I remember blood. I think I cut him." She looked between the two.

"yes he had cleaned the kitchen before we arrived back. We had no evidence to prove he had been there and in the state you were in, your word would not have been enough to charge him of anything. Thus the story had to be... adapted. As far as anyone knows, your knee gave out and you hit your head on the kitchen bench."

She frowned looking at Sherlock. "if that is the case, where have you been? Every time i woke up you weren't there?"

John took that moment to go fill up the water jug leaving the two alone with the sleeping Mycroft. Sherlock looked down a second before looking her straight in the eyes. "at first I went looking for hall, when I could not find him I went to Mycroft's to direct my rage at him. Once he left to come here I went to find a dealer. I sat at the house for hours looking at the drugs sitting on the coffee table. Eventually I came to my senses and collected a few things of yours to take to Mycroft's."

She could see where this was going.

"No. I'm going back home Sherlock."

Sherlock sighed.

"we all know that Mycroft had the best security. His house is the easiest to bump up protection without alerting anyone to change. Plus he has bedrooms on the ground floor and you're now in a full knee brace for at least two weeks."

"I want to go home. Please."

He looked at her gently. "Do you have any idea how I felt seeing you like that? I... I won't risk it again tori. We're going to Mycroft's."

She smiled at "we're" and nodded knowing better than to push it. Give it a week and HE would be begging HER to go home.

Sherlock lasted a lot longer than she had expected. It wasn't until their second week at Mycroft's place that pleasantries went out the window.

"Irreplaceable!" Mycroft's voice hissed.

"Objects are always replaceable Mycroft. Especially as something as boring as a vase."

Victoria's lips quirked. The boys had been arguing in the kitchen for three minutes. They were furiously whispering to each other so she would not hear. She sat on the couch reading through reports Lestrade had sent her to review. Her leg was propped up with floral pillows.

"It was an original Ming vase Sherlock, those are..."

"Hideous." Sherlock interjected. "and since when do you get flowers anyway?"

"That's not the point Sherlock."

"Don't you get, you know..." he paused looking for the word.

Victoria put her tablet down and called out.

"Allergies. I believe hay fever is the term you're looking for Sherlock."

The two brothers poked their heads around the corner. She waved her hand at them from the couch as she continued to read.

"oh by all means, don't stop on my account. I learned to read over the sound of you two babbling years ago."

Sherlock moved out of the kitchen giving Mycroft's ribs a small jab as he passed.

"Oomph. Child." Mycroft rubbed his stomach.

"Old man."

Sherlock hit the pig carcass in front of him several times with his bare fists. The carcass swung. His hands were sore but he needed to know the results of intense manual impact against the ribs after death. There were no bodies available in the morgue so swine would have to suffice. His investigation would be weak... he knew that. But in reality he just needed to let off some frustrations. Victoria and he were still staying at Mycroft's, John had moved back into baker street without him, tori was still limping about the place determined to get back to work and as for the case? Well that was going nowhere. It would seem that Hall was playing it safe and had ceased business while the spotlight was on him. It made Victoria nervous and Sherlock was furious that for now Hall and his people were going unpunished. He swung again at the carcass.

"Yes Sir. Yes I understand that fully Sir. I couldn't agree with you more."

Victoria was standing by Mycroft's fireplace touching a pewter ornament and turning to slightly so it faced outwards. She smiled at Mycroft as he walked in, holding up her finger to indicate she'd be just a moment.

"I can agree to those terms Sir. Of course. Yes. Thankyou." She hung up and turned to Mycroft who was now sitting on the couch. Her face beamed at him and he sighed running a hand down his face.

"Dear god they want you back." He sighed.

She nodded her head and almost bounced over to sit next to him.

"They said that seeming I am mainly at my desk all day they are happy to have me back on light duties. As long as I sign a document stating that I ask going against the advice of my medical certificate which asked for an absence of eight weeks then I can start back ASAP."

"This will ruffle feathers my dear." He looked at her genuinely concerned.

"I know Mycroft. But I can't just sit around here all day. I'm going nuts and it hasn't even been a month yet. Sherlock will just have to understand that I make my own choices and I want to go back to work ."

"You make convincing my brother sound so easy."

She laughed. "It can be easy, you just need to know what to say."

"Absolutely not." Sherlock slammed the pantry door. Victoria followed him over to the bench where he ripped the lid off the can of beans.

"Oh come on Sherlock. You knew this was coming. It's not like I work in the field or anything."

Sherlock tipped the beans into the pot and refused to look at her.

"You do not need money. You have intelligent conversation here with Mycroft or myself. The work you do is all historical. You do not need to work."

She placed her hands on her hips in agitation.

"Now hold on just a second. That historical work is very important to me. PLUS it is a key factor in finding out what Hall is up to. I am the one who gathered all the information we've been going on so far so don't downplay the importance of my work Sherlock."

Sherlock sneered turning to face her.

"and look where that got us. You're crippled. Karen's dead. I can't go home because I'm babysitting you. Hall has stopped his extra activities. Oh yes Victoria. What a fine job you have been doing." He slopped a pile of cold beans onto his plate.

"Her name was Krista." She turned and limped out of the room. Sherlock watched her go and dread settled in his stomach. Tiny bit not good Sherlock. Oh hell.