Sherlock slept through that night without a nightmare. When he woke up Victor was already up. He obviously was puttering around in the kitchen. Sherlock felt strangely fine, calm in comparison to the inner uproar of yesterday. He carefully got up and looked for the cane before he remembered that he had left it in the living room. So he limped to the living room when he heard Victor's voice.

"Mycroft, I don't care what you think is the best. I told you what we need and either you help us or you will leave us alone." Victor said. His voice was still quiet, but his anger was clearly audible. "And you think that would help? What will they do to him? Lock him up? How do you think he will deal with that? He was locked up for three month." Victor hissed.

Sherlock stood frozen in the middle of the living room. One needed not to be a genius to guess what Mycroft's preposition was – a mental institution, a place where they would lock him away. Unwanted memories from his childhood flooded Sherlock's mind, the doors that closed behind him, the doctors that didn't believe him, the times he tried to escape and was subsequently strapped to his bed, the drugs that numbed his mind, Ford laughing at him when he had visited. Sherlock tried to get rid of those memories when he heard Victor yelling.

"If you do that then you are not better than Sherrinford." Mycroft was obviously interrupting Victor, but he had no chance. "It doesn't matter that your intentions are good. The result will be the same. You will destroy him, you will break him and he will not survive it. And to be honest, I told you back when you came to Sussex that Sherrinford would only get him over my dead body and that I would rather die and kill him before allowing him to ever touch him again. Well, let me extend that promise to you. When you will try to get him sectioned you will have to kill me and I'd rather kill him and myself before I will allow you to lock him away."

Sherlock tried to process what he had just heard. Victor would die for him. Now there was only silence. Mycroft was obviously talking. When Victor talked again his voice was calm again.

"Good. Do that. We will wait for your suggestions. And don't try to fool me." Sherlock heard Victor sigh and then he was suddenly standing in front of him.

"You listened?" Victor asked a bit shocked.

Sherlock just nodded.

"I meant it." Victor stated while laying his hands on Sherlock's shoulders. It had a strangely soothing effect. "I will not allow him to take you away." Victor emphasized. "He said he will look for therapists who are willing to work here. He will send us his suggestions and then you can make a decision."

"We." Sherlock whispered.

"We?"

"We will make the decision." Sherlock said a bit louder.

"Yes, we will." Victor smiled. "Let us have breakfast now. You are way too thin."

The day passed in a kind of lazy but also tense atmosphere. They didn't talk much, just sat together on the sofa. Sherlock curled up. He was tense all over. He wasn't sure if Mycroft would really keep his word. He still expected this to be his last day here in Sussex and his last day in freedom. Part of him wanted to run away, but a rational part in him knew that he couldn't do that, that he was neither physical nor mentally fit enough to be on the run. And there was Victor and his promise. It calmed Sherlock a bit in a very strange and surreal way, the idea that someone would be willing to die for him.

Late in the evening they heard a car stopping in front of the house. Sherlock immediately tensed up. Victor got up and grabbed the gun he had put on the coffee table. He walked to the front door while Sherlock stayed in the living room. Only seconds later Victor came back with Mycroft a few steps behind him. And it was only Mycroft, nobody else, as Sherlock immediately noticed.

"Hello Sherlock." Mycroft said. He sounded humble and he bit his lower lip. Sherlock noticed the hint of insecurity in his brother's posture just before he was able to return to his usual aloof self. While Sherlock was intrigued by Mycroft's behavior Victor had sat down beside Sherlock on the sofa. Sherlock had only noticed him when he put his hand on Sherlock's thigh, an act of assurance.

"I thought I bring you the files on the therapists myself." Mycroft said and he put his briefcase on the coffee table, sat down on the chair opposite of the sofa. He got three files out of the case. "They all have a very good reputation and they all can start next week. They work with different methods. There is some information on the methods in the files but I am sure you can manage to find more information online. I already rented a cottage in the village. So who ever you will choose will not stay here but will live in the village."

Sherlock just stared at his brother still not quite sure if this was really happening.

"Victor has told you about our phone call." Mycroft started to fill the silence. "Sherlock, I am sorry. I was wrong."

Now Sherlock really thought he was dreaming. His brother would never admit to be wrong. And Mycroft seemed to sense his thoughts.

"I know I don't admit that very often, but I've been wrong and Victor was right. The best thing for you would be to get the help here with Victor by your side and a therapist you will trust. If you don't want one of those three feel free to look for another. I will organize everything."

Sherlock nodded. "Thank you." He croaked.

Mycroft opened his brief case again. What he got out looked like a slipcase and when he opened it Sherlock could see more than a dozen CDs.

"What is that?" Victor asked.

"Another mistake." Mycroft said. "I shouldn't have kept them without your knowledge." Mycroft paused for a moment, suddenly he looked unsure, but then he continued. "When Mary captured Ford we found those among his belongings."

And suddenly Sherlock knew what those CDs contained and he couldn't hide his shock. "Did you watch them?" He asked with a quivering voice and he didn't notice the confusion on Victor's face.

"Some." Mycroft admitted. "The first one, the one with Ford." He paused unsure which words to use and decided to just skip the description. "I took glances of some others. The labels clearly indicate what happened." Mycroft noticed how Sherlock closed his eyes, how he pressed his lips into a thin line and how he tried to hide the trembling of his hands. "I know I should have not done that without your knowledge and permission." Mycroft said watching his brother for a further reaction.

And now Victor realized what the two Holmes brothers talked about. On those CDs were the videos that showed how Sherlock was tortured. Victor took a deep breath and turned to take a look at Sherlock who looked petrified and now stared at his brother.

"Did anybody else saw them?" Sherlock asked after a while.

"I am sorry, but I needed them to see what Ford was capable of doing. When I told them they didn't believe me." Mycroft stammered.

"That explained their uptight behavior when they visited me in hospital." Sherlock said, his voice strangely calm, a bit vacant.

Victor again tried to get the meaning behind those words but the brothers could only talk about their parents. The idea that Mycroft needed to show his parents a video, that depicted how Sherrinford whipped his own brother until he begged to be killed, just to convince them that that really had happened that was just scary. Sherlock had told Victor what had happened, seeing it would be horrible.

"Why do you give me those CDs now?" Sherlock asked next.

"I should have given them to you right away." Mycroft said. "You are the only one who should decide what you want to do with them."

"Are there copies?" Sherlock asked.

"Not that we know. I haven't made any copies and those were the only ones we found. We have searched the bolt holes Ford had in Eastern Europe, but we only found videos of other victims, but of course there might be copies hidden somewhere else." Mycroft explained.

Sherlock just nodded. "I am tired. We will look at those files tomorrow and tell you our choice." With that Sherlock got up. He grabbed his cane and slowly made his way to the bedroom. He lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He heard Victor telling Mycroft goodbye and moments later the car drove away. Victor knocked on the door and waited for Sherlock to ask him to come in.

"Yes."

"Are you okay?" Victor asked softly.

Sherlock looked at him. "No, not really, but the day turned out better than expected." Sherlock said with a quiet and calm voice. "I was quite sure that I would either end up in a mental home or dead and here I am." He snorted quietly.

Victor smiled and sat down on the bed beside Sherlock. "Yeah, I wasn't quite sure if he would stick to his promise either. And how do you feel about those videos?"

Sherlock remained silent for a moment. "I don't know. I honestly don't know." He took a deep breath. "And I'd rather not think about it right now."

"Okay." Victor said and he was about to get up and leave the room.

"Vic?"

"Yes?"

"Please don't watch them." Sherlock said low-voiced.

"Of course not." Victor said and watched Sherlock who stared at the ceiling again. He was already in the doorway when he heard Sherlock speaking again.

"Vic?" He whispered.

"Yes?"

Sherlock hesitated. "Will you stay with me? Tonight?"

"Of course." Victor smiled . "I will be back in a minute."