Chapter 21

Greg came home that night, wanting to phone Katherine, but he found a piece of mail sticking out of his box. It was strange because usually the mailman came on Mondays, and that was yesterday.

He grabbed the letter and noticed that it was Katherine's handwriting on the envelope.

Greg sat down at his kitchen table and opened the letter,

Dear Father,

I'm sorry, I've lied to you. I've been lying to you for a long time. You didn't know this, and you probably still don't, but my mother had dangerous ties. So do I.

The truth is I never worked for Mycroft Holmes, I was playing a game of crosses and double crosses and it was dangerous and exciting and I loved it. Now I wish I could take it all back. If I had known the danger it would put everyone I have ever loved in I would never have done it, but it's too late for that now.

I find it highly unlikely that I will ever see you again, and I'm sorry I couldn't give you a proper goodbye, but I suppose this is better than last time.

If you are ever in trouble call this number: 4738264729, it is my most trusted friend. Do not go to the police, or to Sherlock, I've already caused the Holmes brothers enough pain. I'll be alright.

Please leave that woman you call a wife, you deserve so much more happiness than she can give you,

Love, Katherine Lestrade.

Greg didn't know what to do, he rubbed his face, "Kathy... no..."

James was still reeling from what had occurred just a few hours ago, he regretted pointing the gun at her, but he meant what he said. And he was glad he found out, Katherine... she loved him, Mycroft Holmes. He hated her for it, he hated her for lying to him, even he was surprised at how quickly his devotion to her had turned to pure rage. It might've been a sign that he didn't quite understand his emotions quite as well as he thought he did.

A letter slipped through the bottom of his door, the envelope was addressed to James.

He opened it and read...

James,

I'm sorry, truly I am. It isn't that I didn't love you, but I always felt there was something just out of place. I don't think you know how to love people James.

Thank you so much for helping me, you saved me from hell and you kept me safe and away from my demons.

Love, Katherine

"Sebastian!" James cried out, he may not love her, and she might not love him, but this letter was obviously trying to tell him that they would never meet again. It was something he couldn't allow. There weren't enough people like them in the world, one of the few he knew about couldn't just disappear.

When Seb didn't come quickly running in James opened the door and saw that Seb was sitting on the ground in the hall, leaning against the wall. He had no expression on his face and was staring straight ahead. What gave away his unwellness was the tremble in his hand. He was a sharpshooter, his hands did not waver, yet...

James noticed a letter next to him, he gingerly picked it up and read...

Dear Seb,

You're the only friend I've got, I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye, but as you know, this is a dangerous profession. I wish I could be there with you and Jim, spreading mayhem over the world, but I can't. It isn't your fault, or Jim's, or even Mycroft's, it's mine.

I ask only two things of you, first, please keep your phone on you, charged and turned on. Second, live for me. Don't throw yourself into things before looking, remember to eat breakfast, quit smoking, find someone nice and settle down, or don't, but whatever you do I want you to enjoy it. Live for me,

Love Kat.

James looked at Sebastian, he was the only man James considered a friend, he knew he had to try to console him.

"Sebastian..."

Seb shook his head, "This is your fault." His voice was filled with hate.

James nodded, he knew that Seb was going to say that, probably because it was true. Seeing a normally strong, stable man brought to this state of weakness was... strange.

"I... I'm sorry."

Seb closed his eyes and bent his head. James went back to his room and sat on the bed and did the same thing.

At 221B...

Sherlock was watching crap telly again, and John was getting sick of it.

"Sherlock I'm going for a walk," He told him as he put on his coat.

"Hmm..." He hummed absentmindedly, "Oh! Grab the mail will you?"

John looked at him quizzically, "Sherlock what mail? The man doesn't come 'till tomorrow and I just checked yesterday."

Sherlock returned the strange look, "Well there's a letter in the box."

John frowned and rolled his eyes, but as he was about to go outside, he noticed that there was a letter. "Bloody Sherlock..." John muttered, hating it when he was right.

"Well, you were-" John started, but was cut off by Sherlock jumping to his feet.

"Katherine," He spoke softly.

"What? What about Katherine?" John asked.

"The letter," Sherlock opened it, "It's from Katherine."

He read it quickly,

Dear Sherlock,

I know you love the difficult cases, the really tricky ones that push you to your limit. So here's one for you:

A teenager gets pregnant, she's clever, but she also has an older brother, as dangerous as they come. She knows that if she doesn't marry the father of her child, that her brother will take her away to raise the child himself, but the father, being only a teenager himself doesn't accept her proposal, not knowing the danger he puts her in.

The brother takes the mother and her unborn child back to where they were raised. He raises the child as an assassin, wanting to use her for his own gain. One day the brother has had enough of the mother's interference, so he fakes her death in a house fire. The child finally meets her father. In the meantime, her uncle gets to work. Every summer the girl would go to her uncle and he would teach her things no child should know, how to lie, how to kill, how to play people. When she turns eighteen she joins the military because that is what her uncle told her to do, she didn't know it, but he was positioning her just how he wanted.

About a year later, she meets a man, more brilliant and clever than her mother or her uncle, but not clever enough to read her. She fascinates him, so he hires her for top-secret government operations. All the while the girl is receiving instructions from her uncle, what neither of them counts on is the girl not being able to turn on the government man. This angers her uncle, and he sets it up so that she is captured. The government man looks and looks for her, but she's gone.

In the prison, the girl meets a friend who helps her escape. She stays with her new friends and convinces them to protect her from her insane uncle. Years pass and the girl returns to London. There her uncle gets back in touch with her and wants her to come back to him. She's begun to enjoy life away from his grasp and refuses, so he sends information to both her new and old friends, leaving her no place to go but to him.

Sherlock, I know you want to help me, but my uncle raised me so that I could hurt Mycroft. Please don't further that.

~Katherine

"John..." Sherlock said quietly.

"What's-" John was about to ask, but then he read it, "Oh God..." He turned to Sherlock, "Sherlock what... what are we going to do?"

Sherlock was still staring at the letter, "There's nothing we can do, she's already gone. She wrote this last night, the paper is still a little damp from where she must have carried it through the rain last night."

John paused and paced, "Do you think it's true?"

Sherlock nodded, "What motivation would she have to lie?"

John shook his head, "Poor Greg, do you think he knows?"

"I assume she sent him a letter like this one, but I don't know how much she revealed to him."

"Well, shouldn't we tell him?" John asked.

"Maybe not, she gave us this information because she thinks we won't look for her, I doubt she told Greg enough for him to come after her."

"Are we?" John asked, "Going to look for her?"

Sherlock shook his head, "Whoever this is managed to hide her from Mycroft for years, I find it unlikely that we'd succeed."

"What about Mycroft? You think she left something for him? Maybe he'll go after her."

"I don't know, but I expect that we'll soon find out..." Sherlock said. The doorbell then rang throughout the flat.

Mycroft was coming home from a long day at the office when he saw a letter sticking out of the mail slot in his door.

He grabbed it and sat down in front of the fire...

Dear Mycroft,

I know you must hate me right now, I know that you hate yourself for being played, but I want you to know that I hated it too. I've lied to you, and so now I want to tell you the truth.

Katherine Anne Lestrade is not my real name, it was what my mother called me, but it's not my name. My name is Catherine Anne Magnussen. My mother spelt my name with a K as an act of defiance to her brother, Magnussen, and she gave me my father's last name to try and protect me. I was supposed to tell him about you, I was supposed to give him information he couldn't otherwise acquire. There came a time when I didn't want to play his games anymore, and a few months later he had a terrorist cell capture me.

I didn't hate you because you didn't find me, I didn't hate you at all, but I had hoped... hoped that you would have figured out it was him and that you would have found me and everything was going to be alright again.

I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you. If it means anything now, I did love you, and I still do.

Don't come after me, Magnussen's been looking for something over you for a while, and I've just given it to him. Stay safe,

Love Katherine.

Mycroft was in a little bit of shock, how could he have been so wrong. She came to him for help and he turned her away, and now...

He picked up his phone and dialled a number, he waited for a few moments before it was answered.

"Ah, Mr. Holmes, I was expecting your call, maybe not so soon," Magnussen answered.

"Where's Katherine?" He asked.

Magnussen chuckled and called, "Catherine is indisposed at the moment, but I'm sure she'll love to know you called."

"What is it that you want Magnussen?" Mycroft asked, trying to get a feel for what he was dealing with.

"What makes you think I wanted anything but my beloved niece back safe and sound?"

"Seems out of character," Mycroft commented.

"Oh, and you calling me with the intention of giving me anything I want is within your character?" Magnussen laughed, "You know, I hope Catherine is alright, the Czech Republic is a dangerous place these days."

Magnussen hung up, leaving Mycroft with less than nothing.

He then sat up and slipped the letter into his jacket and went back out.

A few minutes later Mycroft was standing in Sherlock's flat, he read the letter that Katherine had sent Sherlock and hummed once he finished.

"That fills a few holes," Mycroft said.

"So you know who the uncle is?" Sherlock asked.

Mycroft nodded, "Who?" John asked.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that," Mycroft replied.

Sherlock stood, "And why not?"

"Because I'm concerned that you'd do something... unwise with that information," Mycroft said to both of them.

John looked at him incredulously, "So you aren't going to do anything?! She loved you! She trusted you! You can't just leave her behind!"

Mycroft looked down briefly, "I called him this morning."

"Her uncle?" Sherlock asked. Mycroft nodded, "What did he say?"

"He said that he sent her on a dangerous job in the Czech Republic and that he was expecting my call," Mycroft told them, and John noticed Sherlock's face falter slightly.

"What does that mean?" John asked.

"So if you try to get to her..." Sherlock started.

"He'll put her in danger, yes." Mycroft nodded.

John sighed and sat in his chair with defeat, "What about Greg?"

Sherlock gestured to the door and said, "Ask him yourself."

Greg then burst into the flat, "Kathy, she's in trouble, she left me a letter and-" Greg stopped, noticing the sombre mood of the room, "What's going on?" He asked.

"She left us letters too," Sherlock said.

Greg sighed and sat down on the sofa, "Is there something we can do?" He asked sadly, already knowing the answer.

No one replied.

Authors Note: Hope you liked it! Please comment/review!