Max and Sam sat a few steps down from the entrance to the control room.

"Max?"

Max was leaning against the wall. Eyes closed. Calming his breathing.

"I am stabilizing. The worry should go to Charlie."

Sam didn't answer him directly.


Charlie could you update please?

The message blinked on the windshield. Greg turned to look for a moment.

Sherlock was cutting the left sleeve of Mycroft's wetsuit off. John was completing a physical check. Charlene was preparing an IV bag.

"Llameri. Could you tell Sam we are a bit busy but will get back to him in a bit."


Uncle Sam they are working on Dad. Update later.

Sam just stared at the phone.

"Chaos in the car?" Max asked.

"Evidently."

"We need to call Dr. Russo."

"Yes."


"Hold him still, Sherlock."

Mycroft wasn't moving about. He was more vibrating. John hands were steady even if Mycroft was not. The needle slid in nicely.

"Over your head Sherlock."

Charlene pointed to a small hook. The IV bag hung nicely. Sherlock looked at John.

"Get the blanket over him."

Sherlock had a multitude of unasked questions in his gaze.

"Sherlock. When things settle down. We can talk."

Sherlock nodded to Charlene.

"This is information overload. Even for a Holmes."


"Wait, wait. Just wait."

Max and Sam looked at each other.

"I apologize Ben. I know it is the middle of the night."

"Max. Sam. I need a minute to wake up."

"Do you still have power?"

"No. The generator kicked on."

Benjamin Russo walked to his computer and pulled up Mycroft's files.

"Honestly, why can't he ever get a simple injury?"

Ben heard a laugh from the other end of the line.

"Go big or go home, Ben." Sam stated.

"I am going to hang up."

Ben heard a bigger laugh.

"John is with him?"

"Yes."

"I need to talk to him. Llameri can let us talk?"

"Yes."


A chime came from the speakers.

"Llameri who is calling?"

"Doctor Russo Mum."

Thank you guys.

"Answer it."

"Charlene?"

"Ben, it is very nice to hear your voice."

Ben could hear the slight change in her voice. He wasn't their therapist but he was the next best thing.

"How is my favorite problem child?"

Mycroft let out a little groan and tried to shake his head.

"I think he heard you." Charlie said though a laugh.

"That is a good thing."

John listened to the voice.

"Dr. Russo is that you?"

"Yes it is Dr. Watson. Please call me Ben."

"Likewise. You are his doctor?"

"Well I actually have all four of them, John. Among others."

"My sympathies."

"You have no idea."

That got a laugh out of everyone but Sherlock. He was laser focused on his brother.

"John give me a rundown."

"How much do you know?"

"Sam and Max filled me in up to getting him in the car."

John and Ben were exchanging medical information. All of it became a background murmur. Sherlock was focused on Mycroft's hands.

They wouldn't stop moving.

Sherlock gently took his right hand. Mycroft's fingers wiggled and squeezed then stopped.

Good.

"That is the problem with dive injuries John. You just don't know what is causing what till you can get them to hospital."

"It is frustrating, Ben."

Mycroft's hand wriggled free. Mycroft's right hand started softly banging on the floor and the seat.

Sherlock captured it. This time he squeezed.

Spastic fingers. Squeeze. Stop.

Easy brother. We are going as fast as we can.

Mycroft settled down.

"I'll have them prep the chamber but.."

"You have a feeling most of this is from the blast?"

"Yes, John."

Mycroft's hand fell away again.

"On top of everything else, I think he injured both feet."

"Why?"

Mycroft's right hand was bouncing on the floor.

"We can not get his fins off. It looks like the fins are a size too small or his feet are just that swollen."

"Shite. Do you have anything to cut them off with?"

Sherlock went to grab his hand again.

"I don't want to cause him anymore pain than necessary. We can cut them off when we get to you."

The hand evaded capture.

"He doesn't want them touched. At all."

Mycroft fluttered both flippers.

Sherlock sighed and reached for his left one.

John gently smoothed Mycroft's hair.

"Easy. The flippers won't come off till we are at hospital."

Mycroft waved his hand in a slapping motion.

"What?!"

"Sherlock?"

"John his hands are spasming. For some reason."


Max and Sam had heard the entire conversation. Llameri had set this up like a conference call.

"Everyone we will be back in a moment."

Sam announced then the line went silent.

"Ben we need to explain something to you."


John continued to watch the feed from Mycroft's chips. John knew he had to be in considerable pain. There is just nothing he could do for that now.

"Mycroft you can't lie on your back. I don't want you to aspirate. I am also sure you have cracked a few ribs. You can't lie on your stomach because I don't know if you are bleeding internally."

John watched as Mycroft's right hand started rhythmically hitting the floor.

"Mycroft would you like to roll over?"

Mycroft's hand stopped it's frantic motion.

"Ok."

Sherlock helped John gently turn him over. Mycroft curled his hands to his chest and splayed his feet. John watched Mycroft settle down. Sherlock was breathing a bit easier. John nodded at him.

"We probably had him on a cracked rib. He is resting easier now."

A silent "thank you" passed from Sherlock's lips.


Sam sighed listening to the events in Llameri. Max turned his head as Gordon appeared in the stairwell.

"Are you two ok?"

"Sort of."

"That is not the encouraging answer I was going for Max."

Gordon looked them over.

"Talk to me."


Greg looked over at Charlene. She was still typing on two phones plus the small computer screen in front of her. She had started right after the doctor had called.

The roads were a challenge. Downed trees and power lines. Water covering many of the roads. He was convinced Llameri was part boat.

"Miss Charlene."

Charlene kept here head down.

"Gordon did you get the last files I sent you?"

"I have gotten every single one."

"Good. I am trying to give you everything I can think of to help you."

"Charlene can you do me a favor?"

"Whatever you need."

"Please listen and follow carefully."

"Yes,..Sir."

"No need to be formal. Just pay attention."

"Ok."

"Close out of all your screens."

Charlene quickly did.

"Done."

"Now take a deep breath and calm yourself."

"I am."

Gordon cleared his throat. Charlene could imagine his "don't give me that bs" face. Charlene closed her eyes and shook herself out.

"Hi, Gordon."

Charlie could eye roll with the best of them.

"Don't roll your eyes at me."

Gordon heard a quiet mumbled protest.

"There you are." Gordon whispered.

"Gordon?"

"Miss Charlene please tell Dr. Russo what Mycroft is trying to say."

"Why is everyone not making any sense?"

"Mr. Holmes we are making sense. You are just going to have to believe me."

Gordon gave them a moment.

"Charlene?" John asked.

Charlene turned around and looked at Mycroft's back. Her face was unguarded for a moment.

OMG. I am so sorry. I wasn't paying attention.

"Myeeks? I was transferring files to Gordon and Don."

"Gordon, I don't know what you think is happening here. Mycroft is semiconscious. He was in a lot of pain so we rolled him over. He has settled down."

John gently opened one of his eyes. Mycroft couldn't keep focused on anything.

"Sorry everyone. He isn't quite here."

"John can you trust me for a moment."

"Ben?"

"Roll him back over. Prop him so his arms are free to move."

John looked at Charlene. Dealing with soldiers, spies, the Holmes family and the Yard had given him a lot of insight. Charlene was distracted. Mycroft was twitching his hands.

"Sherlock."

Sherlock stretched his legs behind Mycroft. So Mycroft was rolled towards the front resting against Sherlock.

"Charlie girl."

Charlene twisted back in her seat. John unfurled Mycroft's right arm and held it for Charlene.

"Sammy. One minute."

Charlene gently took his hand and ran her fingers across his palm. John watched her face for some sort of reaction. He could tell she was on lockdown.

John watched as her fingers started tapping on his palm.

"Myeeks?"

Tap. Tap. Squeeze. No response.

"I apologize. He is out."

"That is ok. You can try later Charlie."

"Would everyone like to be updated on what is happening here?"

"Yes, please Gordon."

Greg concentrated on the road while everyone talked. His mind was thinking of all the agency's they needed to get ready for the morning.

"Llameri are you still sending updates to Sally?"

"Yes, Greg."

"Thank you."

"Llameri could you update Grandpa?"

"Yes."


Don turned as there was a knock on the door.

"Yes."

"Sir, he has woken up."

Don smiled and walked out of the room.

"Sleeping beauty has woken up everyone."

"Don. Please keep him in one piece."

"Charlene...no."

The link became cluttered with voices.

"Pardon us. We shall return." Gordon stated calmly.


"Holmes?"

Siger, Violet and Mrs. Hudson all looked up from the magazines they were reading.

"Is this concerning Mary Morstan?"

"Yes."

The surgeon sat down and started talking.


"Mum, Grandpa sent a message."

"Please read it."

"We both have mixed news. Mary has to have a radical hysterectomy. Our sympathies John. She will still be in surgery when you arrive. Thanks for what you are doing for Mycroft. If anything happens we will update you."

"Sorry mate."

"Thanks Greg."

Sherlock gave him a nod. Mycroft took a deep breath and tried to open his eyes.

"Easy Mycroft. I don't blame you. Just rest."

"John is he awake?"

Charlene turned around and reached for his hand again. Their hands met gently.

"Not really Ben."

"I am getting ready to go to Bart's."

"Good luck with the drive. You are going to need it."

"Yeah Greg."

Mycroft's grip tightened.

"Wait, Ben."

Charlene winced at the squeak in her voice.

"Is he communicating?"

"He is trying."

"Mycroft can you hear me?" Ben asked gently.

Sherlock watched his fingers slowly move. The rest of his body was sedate. Charlene was translating.

"Yes."

"Mycroft. Yes. No. Maybe."

"Yes."

"Where is your worst pain?"

Mycroft twitched his feet and coughed.

"Sore all over?"

"Maybe."

"The pain varies?"

"Yes."

"Would you feel better if we forced the fins off?"

John felt his head nod against his leg.

"Ben he nodded."

"Do it John."

Charlene dug through the glove box.

"These will cut through those fins with ease."

John took the heavy duty snips.

"Sherlock would you like me to do this?"

"John I am more than capable of cutting a few straps."

John watched Mycroft's hand move and Charlene tried to suppress a smile.

"Do it quickly. Do not hesitate pulling the fins off."

Sherlock looked at the fins that were gently pressed against his chest. The snips slid under the back straps with a bit of a push.

John clutched the right leg as Sherlock tugged the fin off. John felt Mycroft curling into him. They switched legs quickly.

"John?"

"It is done Ben."

"How is he?"

"He is out again."

"Charlene?"

She groaned as she flexed her hand.

"He didn't enjoy that."

"How is your hand?"

"Sore but fine, Ben."

John gently rearranged Mycroft into a more comfortable position.

"Thank you Sherlock."

Sherlock nodded to her.

"These are a whole size too small. His feet should be able to function a bit better now."

"I am going to leave for Bart's. John I will check on Mary when I get there."

"Thank you."

"Please keep me informed if anything else happens."

"Of course."

"I think we need to leave as well."

"That is an excellent idea Sam. Then we can get everything ready."


Sam disconnected. He was watching Magnussen being escorted to a waiting black car. Magnussen looked lost. No lawyer that he could pay or bully would be enough.

"You failed. The boat didn't blow up. We are sending people to your residence right now."

Magnussen turned towards Don.

"I want to talk to Mycroft. The two of us can sort through the details."

Magnussen would wake up in a nondescript cell. His jaw sporting a magnificent bruise.


Alex and crew walked back into The Grain.

"Have I missed anything?"

"No, Sir. Nothing has exploded."

"That is always a good thing."

"How is The Iceman doing?"

"He is alive."

"And?"

Alex sighed and started talking.


"Tree!" Greg yelled.

Llamrei and Greg expertly swerved past the falling elm.

"Good girl Llamrei."

Greg gave a pat to the dash.

"You are welcome."

"Is everyone ok?"

"Fine." Sherlock stated with a huff.

"John?"

Sherlock turned away from the window.

"I need quiet you two." John whispered

Greg looked quickly at Charlene and Mycroft. Charlene had twisted herself between the seats. John was pulled down over Mycroft. Charlene's arms covering both. Mycroft had curled into John.

John had seen the look on Charlene's face as she dove to cover both of them. Confusion. Aggravation. Over all she looked tired.

"When we got Myeeks out of the complex. We needed to drive about 48 km to safely meet up with a helicopter."

The words rang through Greg's head.

"They couldn't even let you get him out."

Greg was mumbling to himself.

John was glad Greg figured it out so quickly.

"Charlene what date is it?"

We are getting shot at Sam and you want to know the date?!

John repeated the question.

"April 27, 2005. Why does it matter?"

Sherlock was in observational mode. Charlene's voice was a total growl. Greg looked upset.

Charlene is having a flashback? Greg knows why?

"Who am I?"

Charlene looked up and blinked. John righted himself.

"What is the date?"

"October 28, 2013."

John could see rage broiling on her face.

"Don't you dare. You reacted on instinct. I refuse to let you feel negative. Breathe."

Charlene turned back into her seat.

"Yes, Doctor."

Charlene was bouncing her head on the dashboard.

"Easy."

Greg was rubbing her back. The wind and rain were the only sounds as Charlene calmed her breathing down.

"I apologize. Also thank you."

"Nothing to apologize for. Feeling better?"

"Yes, John."

Charlene leaned back in the seat and grasped Greg's arm. John arms were tangled up with Mycroft's.

John could read Sherlock's annoyed expression.

"Not now." John mouthed.

"I don't like not knowing."

"I know."