Hello again, and yes another chapter. One a day until this story is finished. Enjoy!


The client chair sat in the middle of the room facing the fireplace. Mycroft stood beside while Sherlock sat in his armchair with his fingers steepled against his chin, staring downwards. Opposite him, John sat and watched him, twirling a pen in the fingers of his left hand. Lexi was on the couch, sitting with Mary and Joanna. Their children were being looked after by the best of the best, Molly Hooper and Greg Lestrade while they took care of business.

Mycroft's arms were folded, and he had a stubborn look on his face. John glanced over to him for a moment before looking away again and Mrs. Hudson who was standing in the doorway with her arms folded, looked at Mycroft, smiling slightly as he lowered his head and bit his lip.

"You have to sit in the chair," Mrs. Hudson said, breaking the silence and Mycroft turned and looked at her. "They won't talk to you unless you sit in the chair. It's the rules," Mrs. Hudson continued as everyone remained silent, emphasizing what she had said.

"I'm not a client," Mycroft told her tetchily.

"Then get out," Sherlock said, not looking round at his brother.

"We have far better things to do than watch you loiter about in our living room. You either sit in the damn chair or you get out of our flat. If you are considering that, remind yourself that you got yourself into this whole mess and it seems to me that you can't clean it up. So, sit your ass down," Lexi told her brother in law and he turned and looked at Sherlock and John once more.

John looked up towards him, tapping the tip of his pen against the arm of his chair. Unfolding his arms and holding them out in surrender, Mycroft walked around and sat in the chair as Lexi had ordered him too. As Sherlock lowered his hands, Mycroft gestured towards Mrs. Hudson who was still standing in the doorway while looking at his brother.

"She's not going to stay there, is she?" Mycroft asked as Lexi rose to her feet and walked over to the trio, sitting down on Sherlock's lap when he took her hand into his own and pulled her down to sit. Sherlock looked towards his landlady, then tilted his head to her.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Mrs. Hudson asked, looking at Mycroft.

"Thank you," Mycroft answered her primly.

The kettle's over there," Mrs. Hudson told him, pointing towards the kitchen before she turned and headed down the stairs. John, Sherlock, and Lexi smiled while Joanna chuckled.

"No tea for reptiles I guess," Joanna told her husband before she got up and headed towards the kitchen. "You're lucky I love you. Do you have any biscuits? I could use a nibble" She added before they heard her messing about in the cupboards.

"You dressed up as a clown and took part in my brother's pathetic attempts to scare me," Mycroft shot back, and Joanna snorted as she popped her head out of the kitchen and raised an eyebrow at her husband. She took a second to swallow her bite of ginger biscuit before retorting.

"Attempt? You forget I am the one who cleans your underwear," Joanna shot back, and Mycroft closed his eyes for a moment, counting to ten before he looked at his smirking brother.

"So, what happens now? Are you going to make deductions?" Mycroft asked the two detectives and Lexi shook her head.

"No, what happens now is that you are going to tell the truth, Mycroft. All of it, from the beginning. I want to know why you introduced me to Eurus, who exactly she is, and how she and my brother could have gotten out of Sherrinford," Lexi explained to her brother in law.

"Odd that, a prison named after our brother," Sherlock said, raising an eyebrow. "Kept it in the family then? Sherri never did say who exactly he kept locked up. So, the truth brother mine, pure and simple," Sherlock said, and Mycroft closed his eyes once more and took a deep breath before opening them.

"Who was it said, "Truth is rarely pure, and never simple"?" Mycroft asked his brother and Sherlock shifted slightly to face his brother.

"I don't know, and I don't care. So, there were four of us. I know that now. You, me, Sherrinford, and ... Eurus," Sherlock said more than asked and Mycroft nodded. "A sister I can't remember. Interesting name, Eurus. It's Greek, isn't it?" Sherlock asked and Lexi nodded, studying Mycroft.

"Mm. Yeah, uh, literally 'the god of the East Wind,'" John answered Sherlock, looking in his notebook and reading from the notes he had already made.

"Yes," Mycroft said, and Lexi tilted her head to the side, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

""The East Wind is coming, Sherlock,"" Sherlock said, gazing towards the floor before he looked up at his brother. "You used that to scare me," He accused, and Mycroft answered him with a quick no. "You turned my sister into a ghost story," Sherlock said, and Mycroft shook his head.

"Of course, I didn't. I monitored you," Mycroft admitted as Lexi rubbed Sherlock's arm, the two of them sharing their customary looks by which they communicated.

"You what?" John asked Mycroft in confusion.

"Memories can resurface; wounds can re-open. The roads we walk have demons beneath ...," Mycroft answered John as he looked at the army doctor before he turned his gaze back towards Sherlock. "... and yours have been waiting for a very long time. I never bullied you. I used – at discrete intervals – potential trigger words to update myself as to your mental condition. I was looking after you."

"Why can't I remember her?" Sherlock asked, softly but intensely and Lexi squeezed his hand, getting him to look at her. Just that look grounded hi, the sometimes-overwhelming love he felt for her bringing him back from the recesses of his mind as he forced himself to try and come up with any memory of his sister. Mycroft paused for a moment, glancing in John's direction but not looking at him.

"This is a private matter," Mycroft said then and Lexi and Sherlock never once felt any hesitation with Sherlock's answer.

"John and Mary stay," Sherlock answered for him and his wife and John and Mary who had been about to get up, looked across to Sherlock and Lexi, surprised. Mycroft leaned forward in his chair looking between his brother and sister in law.

"This is family," He repeated in a harsh whisper.

"That's why they stay," Lexi told Mycroft firmly with no room left for argument. "Mary has always been like another sister to me, just like Joanna and I am so glad that Sherlock feels the same way about her as I do. And John, where would we both be without our army doctor? He has been like a brother to us both since we first met. That is why they stay Mycroft so you can take it or leave it," Lexi told Mycroft while he, Sherlock, and Lexi locked eyes for a long moment. John smiled and lowered his head at the admission before looking over to his wife who was beaming and looking a little teary eyed. Eventually Mycroft sat back in his chair and John cleared his throat.

"So, there were four Holmes kids," John said as he pulled the lid off his pen and re-opened his notebook. "What was the age gap?" John asked as Lexi made a funny face.

"Seven years between myself and Sherlock; one year between Sherlock and Eurus," Mycroft answered quickly, and John nodded and pointed his pen in Sherlock's direction.

"Middle child. Explains a lot," John said, and Sherlock threw him a look. John raised his eyebrows at him and then turned his attention back to his notebook. "Your missing one though, Sherlock said he had another brother, a secret brother, mind you, Sherrinford was it?" John asked and Lexi and Mycroft answered him in unison.

"No."

"Sherrinford, I thought it was a coincidence at first. When Sherlock told me, he had a brother named Sherrinford it never clicked. He said he ran a prison, but there was always something off about that. He said he hadn't seen him in eight years, not since your parents forced him to come home, but that was a lie once more, wasn't it?" Lexi asked Mycroft who sighed before answering her.

"It was, but more on Sherrinford later. That is of lesser importance," Mycroft said and Sherlock frowned in confusion as John looked wary for a moment before he continued the questioning.

"So, did she have it too?" John asked Mycroft who raised an eyebrow at him questioningly.

"Have what?" Mycroft asked John, waiting for a reply.

"The deduction thing," John answered him, searching around for words to describe what they did.

""The deduction thing"?" Mycroft asked him sarcastically.

"... Yes," John answered him after a moment.

"More than you can know," Mycroft told them, looking reflectively towards the fireplace and he paused while the boys look at him.

"I remember, Eurus was…something else entirely. She could see through everyone, well almost everyone. None of you Holmes' can see through me," Lexi said, and she shook her head. "She was so intense all the time. I remember I felt bad for her. She couldn't escape from the constant string of deductions and variables, not even for a moment," Lexi said, looking down at her hands and Sherlock wrapped his arms around her tightly to comfort her.

"Enlighten us further," John told Mycroft and Lexi.

"You realize I'm the smart one?" Mycroft asked John as he gestured between himself and his brother while looking at John.

"As you never cease to announce," Sherlock quipped as he played with the ends of Lexi's hair which trailed down her back.

"... but Eurus, she was incandescent even then. Our abilities were professionally assessed more than once. I was remarkable, but Eurus was described as an era-defining genius, beyond Newton," Mycroft explained, and Lexi nodded in agreement with him.

"Then why don't I remember her?" Sherlock demanded, softly, but intensely once more, holding on to his wife as if she was his lifeline, the only thing keeping him above water.

"You do remember her, in a way. Every choice you ever made; every path you've ever taken – the man you are today ... is your memory of Eurus," Mycroft explained, and Sherlock slowly turned his head away. Mycroft looked down as if something had caught his attention and he found himself on a pebbled beach in his mind. Mycroft straightened up as a dog barked nearby.

"She was different from the beginning," Mycroft continued and some distance away, a young girl, maybe six years old, who was wearing a blue and white dress and a knitted oatmeal-coloured cardigan, her hair tied into bunches either side of her head, stood watching an Irish setter trotting through the shallows of the river.

"She knew things she should never have known ...," Mycroft said, and nearby, an overweight boy stood on one stepping stone across a stream.

He was wearing yellow boots, jeans and an olive-coloured jumper, he tossed a pebble into the water, perhaps attempting and failing to skim it. He looked across towards adult Mycroft, who turned away from him. Beyond him, little Eurus had her back to him and was watching as seven-year-old Sherlock, wearing red trousers, wellington boots and a dark yellow patterned jumper and with a pirate hat on his head, slashed at the water with his plastic sword. Adult Mycroft bent down and picked up a large pebble from the water's edge.

"... as if she was somehow aware of truths beyond the normal scope," Mycroft told them as, in 221B, he opened his hand in front of him. His fingers were wet, and a large pebble lay in his palm.

In his mind, young Eurus turned around on the beach and looked directly at him and Mycroft looked startled.

"You look funny grown up," Little Eurus said before, in 221B, Mycroft straightened up in his chair a little, staring towards the fireplace.

"What's wrong?" John asked, seeing a change cross over Mycroft.

"Sorry," Mycroft told him, and he looked down at his open hand, which was dry and empty. In his head he heard the sound of a pebble splashing into the water, but in the flat he closed his hand. "The memories are disturbing," Mycroft finished.

"What do you mean? Examples," Sherlock demanded, and Lexi shivered slightly. She was certain she had never truly understood Eurus, not even with all the time she used to visit her before she moved into Baker Street.

"They found her with a knife once. She seemed to be cutting herself. Mother and Father were terrified. They thought it was a suicide attempt. But when I asked Eurus what she was doing, she said ...," Mycroft said, seeinf Eurus standing and facing him in front of the fireplace. "I wanted to see how my muscles worked."

"Jesus!" John exclaimed, looking towards Mycroft.

"So, I asked her if she felt pain, and she said … "Which one's pain?"" Mycroft told them and Lexi nodded at that.

"I cut myself once when I was visiting her. It wasn't anything serious, but she was so fascinated by it. I think she was most curious about the pain I felt," Lexi added, and Sherlock frowned before turning to his brother.

"What happened?" Sherlock asked him and Mycroft put his hands on his knees and stood up. Suddenly he was outdoors again, standing a short distance away from a large, very old country house in the middle of nowhere.

"Musgrave," Mycroft answered his brother and this time, Sherlock, Lexi, and John stood on either side of him, a few paces behind. "The ancestral home, where there was always honey for tea," Mycroft continued, remembering a young Sherlock, wearing his yellow jumper and his pirate hat, sitting cross-legged on the grass in front of one of many gravestones not far from the country house. He was reading a book on his lap.

"... and Sherlock played among the funny gravestones," Mycroft added.

"Funny how?" John asked from the living room of 221B, while Sherlock looked reflective.

"Come on, you lot!" A woman's voice called out in the graveyard and a dog raced past the four of them standing watching as young Sherlock scrambled up and ran towards the house.

"They weren't real. The dates were all wrong," Mycroft explained.

"Sherlock had a graving etching of one. I saw it once when we were going through a box of things in his bedroom at your parent's house. Let me see if I remember this right: NEMO HOLMES, 1617 – 1822, Aged 32 Years," Lexi recalled from memory with her eyes closed and Mycroft nodded.

"An architectural joke which fascinated Sherlock," Mycroft told the trio and, in the graveyard, John and Mycroft looked towards the house, but Sherlock lowered his gaze and looked to the side as a child's voice started to sing in his head, Lexi looking up at him worriedly.

"... who will find me / Deep down below the old beech tree?" The child's voice sang and the image in Sherlock's mind shifted to the kitchen of the house. A table had plates of food, coloured glasses and cups and saucers in front of the three children, as well as a butter dish and other items in the middle. Sitting on one side of the table beside her oldest brother, young Eurus sang the song while looking across to young Sherlock who was still wearing his pirate hat while he looked back at her unhappily.

In 221B, Sherlock stared into the distance and softly recited the next line while Eurus' voice echoed in his head. "Help succour me now ...," Sherlock sang in a whisper and Mycroft softly joined in while the girl's voice continues to sing along in their heads.

"... the East winds blow," Sherlock, and Mycroft sang simultaneously, Lexi surprising them as she joined in.

"Sixteen by six …," Sherlock sang while in a memory, young Eurus sang the same line across the table to young Sherlock, although she added the word "brother" at the end of the line, a taunting look on her face as he looked back at her.

"... and under we go," Lexi finished in 221B and Mycroft looked haunted as Sherlock turned to look at him.

"You're starting to remember," Mycroft told his brother and Sherlock shook his head.

"Fragments," Sherlock admitted to his brother as he began remembering more.

He saw a younger version of himself get down from the table and run off, Eurus watching him go.

"Redbeard!" Young Sherlock cried and a young Mycroft looked round as his brother, holding his plastic sword, ran outside and gave chase across the graveyard. "Redbeard!" He called again and young Sherlock clambered up some steep steps towards the meadow beyond the graveyard where the adult John, Sherlock, Lexi, and Mycroft were standing.

"Redbeard?" John asked in confusion and Lexi smiled at the memories which Sherlock had shared with her about his faithful companion.

"He was my dog," Sherlock explained to John as young Sherlock ran across the meadow. His pirate hat was a very deep blue, almost the same colour as the Coat he wore now, and it had dark red bands sewn down it.

"Eurus took Redbeard and locked him up somewhere no-one could find him," Mycroft explained, turning to watch the younger Sherlock in his mind as a young Sherlock called out for his dog again. "... and she refused to say where he was," Mycroft told them and a young Sherlock had run into woodland and he headed for a wooden bridge across a stream, still calling Redbeard's name. "She'd only repeat that song; her little ritual," Mycroft continued as the young Sherlock leaned over the bridge, still calling out.

"We begged and begged her to tell us where he was," Mycroft recalled while in 221B's living room, Sherlock looked away as if he was remembering. He held tight to Lexi and she whispered words of love to him, knowing that the fate of his beloved dog was hard for him to hear.

In the woods, young Sherlock trudged back the way he had come, still calling out.

"... but she said ...The song is the answer. But the song made no sense," Mycroft told them, and Lexi frowned as she tried to recall all of the lines to the song that Eurus was always singing.

"... brother, and under we go," Eurus sang, sitting at the kitchen table in his memory as his sister sang sarcastically to him, taunting him.

"What happened to Redbeard?" Sherlock asked his brother, turning to look at him.

"We never found him. But she started calling him "Drowned Redbeard," so we made our assumptions," Mycroft told his brother gently before looking at John. "Sherlock was traumatized. Natural, I suppose – he was, in the early days, an emotional child; but after that he was different, so changed. Never spoke of it again. In time, he seemed to forget that Eurus had ever even existed," Mycroft told them, and John frowned in confusion as Lexi tried to go through her own memories.

"How could he forget? She was living in the same house," John asked Mycroft in disbelief.

"No. They took her away," Mycroft explained to the army doctor, shaking his head sadly and Sherlock looked round to him quickly.

"Why? You don't lock up a child because a dog goes missing," John said and Lexi bit her lip, feeling unsure of herself. What had she missed all that time that she and Eurus spoke with one another? They had almost been friends, almost.

"Quite so. It was what happened immediately afterwards," Mycroft told John and, in his memory, he saw a young Eurus sitting cross-legged on the floor of her bedroom with several crayon drawings in front of her.

On her far left was a drawing of five people and she has written "family" above the people and underneath, above each head, were the names "daddy", "mummy", "mycroft", "sherlock" and "me". Across the person labelled "sherlock" she had scrawled a large red cross almost obliterating the figure beneath. Beside that were two separate drawings of her middle brother wearing a yellow and blue striped jumper. The lower one had an arrow pointing to the figure, identifying him as "SHERLOCK" and a burst of blood seemed to be coming from his throat and pouring out beside him.

The drawing above that one showed a noose around Sherlock's neck with the rope leading upwards to where it was attached to a wall. The drawing at the top of her collection showed her father on the left beside a beach ball and a sandcastle, and water lapped at the bottom of the picture. Beside her dad was her mother, then a chubby Mycroft and then herself. A few paces to the right of her was Sherlock. She had drawn grey clouds all around him and had drawn a large red cross across his neck and a larger red cross across his body.

There were two more drawings of Sherlock under this picture, one with another large red 'X' across his neck while his mouth turned downwards unhappily, and the second with black crosses where his eyes should be and angry red crayon scrawls all around him. Yet another drawing, below an uncorrupted drawing of Mycroft with a very round body , which itself was below a partially obscured drawing of the family home, showed Sherlock lying flat on what looked like a stone table or a slab.

More and more distressing drawings of Sherlock were scattered about the floor and one drawing was of a gravestone with "RIP SHERLOCK" written across it. In front of her, Eurus had another drawing of the house with Sherlock looking unhappily out of one window. As she drew a large cross over the entire window with a blue crayon, her parents' voices came from a nearby room.

"She knows where he is!" Mr. Holmes told his wife earnestly. He didn't like to see his Sherlock changed so much as he was now.

"We can't make her tell us. We can't make her do anything," Mrs. Holmes remined him.

Eurus put down her crayon and looked up, then she looked down again to the matchbox she was now holding. It had a dark shadowy house on the cover and its brand name was "Maison de la Peur" or the House of Fear". She shook the box, then struck a match on the side, holding it up to look at the flame. She gazed down at it, the flame reflecting in her eye.

Outside, adult Mycroft stood looking at the house. The entire upper story was ablaze, and parts of the roof had already fallen in. As more of the roof collapsed, large flakes of ash floated down around him. He stared towards the house with a look of devastation on his face and closed his eyes. In 221B Mycroft's eyes were closed and it was as if the ash was still falling around him. He eventually opened his eyes and the ash gradually dissipated.

"After that, our sister had to be taken away," Mycroft informed his brother, still looking devastated as he spoke about his sister. Joanna had risen from her seat and positioned herself at Mycroft's side. He hugged her at her waist close to him, drawing strength from her.

Mary had likewise moved closer, perching herself on the arm of John's chair, the three couples coming together in their little family unit. They might all be very different from one another, but they cared about one another. As much as Sherlock refused to admit it, he needed his brother, especially now.

"Where?" Sherlock asked with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Oh, some suitable place – or so everyone thought. Not suitable enough, however. She died there," Mycroft told them, and Lexi raised a brow at that. Lie. She could spot it right away. Everyone had their tells.

"How?" John asked surprised.

"She started another fire, one which she did not survive," Mycroft said plainly, gathering control over himself.

"This is a lie," Sherlock said firmly, and Lexi nodded in agreement.

"You get this certain little dimple in your forehead when you lie," Lexi added and John looked towards Mycroft, who hesitated only for a moment.

"Yes. It is also a kindness. This is the story I told our parents to spare them further pain, and to account for the absence of an identifiable body," Mycroft informed his brother and Sherlock's lips pursed at the news.

"And no doubt to prevent their further interference," Sherlock said, and Mycroft nodded slightly in agreement.

"Well, that too, of course. The depth of Eurus' psychosis and the extent of her abilities couldn't hope to be contained in any ordinary institution. Uncle Rudy took care of things," Mycroft explained, and Lexi frowned at that.

"Uncle Rudy?" She asked and Mycroft nodded.

"You met once, briefly. I tried to keep you away from my family as much as possible until I was sure that you were someone, I needed to keep tabs on. It benefited me. The paperwork would have been insurmountable I am sure if I hadn't," Mycroft told her, and Lexi snorted at that.

"Where is she, Mycroft? Where's our sister?" Sherlock asked his brother then, softly but intensely and Mycroft sighed heavily.

"That comes to our next problem. Sherrinford," Mycroft told them, and Sherlock nodded at that.

"Yes, our brother. Unless your telling me that's wrong too," Sherlock told him with a raised eyebrow.

"Eight years ago, you had gone on a bit of a bender. I found you in a crack house. You were barely conscious, but I think you might have picked up on a few things. I had gotten a call about Eurus. She had attempted to escape. I mentioned the name Sherrinford. You were hallucinating, delirious. It was your worse trip, your worse overdose. I got you in rehab soon after, but a month later you mentioned our brother Sherrinford. You were doing so well that I didn't want to break the illusion you had created for yourself. You never mentioned him once since you met Lexi and Doctor Watson, so I thought that was the last of it," Mycroft explained, and Lexi nodded.

"I thought it was odd that the names were similar, but I wasn't thinking about it at the time, not with just finding out about the twins," Lexi said, and Sherlock patted her hand.

"Seems maternity has made you slow," Mycroft said before he was smacked in the head by three women.

"Choose your audience wisely brother mine," Sherlock informed his brother with a smirk as Mycroft rubbed his head, humming in agreement.

"There's a place called Sherrinford; an island. It's a secure and very secretive installation whose sole purpose is to contain what we call 'the uncontainables.'" Mycroft informed the group and Lexi hummed slightly.

"That's where you put Caradoc," She said, and Mycroft nodded.

"Why there?" John asked curiously and Lexi sighed heavily. "And why does Lexi know Eurus?"

"Yes, I'm quite curious about that too," Sherlock added, and Lexi looked to her husband.

"I was seventeen. It wasn't long after I met Mycroft. Caradoc had been released from the institution he had been in. He had somehow convinced them that he was no longer a threat. I realized I was being watched. It started small, an envelope with no return address, a threat, but then it was dead animals, knowing someone had been in my flat. The treats progressed and I went to Mycroft," Lexi explained, and Mycroft nodded in agreement.

"Of course, it was Caradoc. He had found out where I was. He wanted to finish what he started. He always did. He was obsessed with the idea. He never liked me much, but this was…something else entirely. I don't know why he hates me. Mycroft took care of it. His people found him, and he told me he wouldn't hurt me ever again," Lexi finished, and Mycroft sighed heavily.

"Caradoc MacKenna is a man on the edge. He has multiple personalities, all of them violent. It was best for everyone for him to be locked up in a secure facility. As for how Alexandria met Eurus…I made a critical error," Mycroft began, and Sherlock raised his brow at this admission.

"Eurus had been very calm for some time. A model inmate as one might say. She came forward with a request on one of my visits with her. She wanted a friend. Someone to talk to that would be entirely her own," Mycroft explained, and Sherlock frowned at that.

"And you thought that was wise?" Sherlock asked in disbelief and Mycroft sighed heavily.

"At the time, yes. I thought perhaps she could be reformed. That it might do her good. Alexandria was still a bit of a mystery to me at the time, but she was intelligent, extraordinarily so. Her powers of deduction were like our own. I thought she could keep up with our sister. I was right. They had a shared interest in music. Alexandria intrigued our sister. For once there was someone Eurus couldn't deduce. She was forced to get to know her like everyone else does, by talking. I would be lying if I said I wasn't using Alexandria as leverage for good behavior. All it took was threatening Eurus with no more visits to get her to behave," Mycroft informed them, and Lexi bit her lip.

"I liked her. Eurus was different than most people I had ever met. Our visits were enlightening even to me, but I always knew there was something she was hiding, some part of her she was holding back. It wasn't until I saw that side of her that I became frightened of her," Lexi admitted, and Sherlock frowned slightly.

"What did she do?" Sherlock inquired and Lexi sighed heavily once more.

"Our last visit began strangely. Eurus was agitated already when I came in. I tried to get her to sit down and talk, but she kept pacing the length of her cell, muttering to herself. She began accusing me of helping Mycroft keep her locked up. She was angry that I left her, that I could leave whenever I wanted to. She wanted me to stay there with her. To never leave her and when I told her no, she began slamming against the glass of her cell. Mycroft pulled me out at that time. Eurus was screaming that she hated me. That I was like everyone else. That was the last time I saw her. Mycroft didn't think it was safe to put us in the same room together after that. I met you and John three months later and my life changed so much that I forgot about it. I mean, Mycroft never told me she was his sister. All I knew was that he oversaw Sherrinford and she was a prisoner there," Lexi explained, and Sherlock nodded, humming slightly to himself as he rubbed his chin.

"What is Sherrinford like?" He asked his wife and Lexi bit her lip before answering him.

"It's a fortress. Kind of like Alcatraz if I had to compare it to something. The main buildings are on top of a steep granite cliff. There are guards armed with rifles that patrol across the roof. The island is pretty small. Most of the facility is underground. Their security is good, really good. I should know. Mycroft contracted me to help with it, add more defenses and see how easy it was to hack into them. I freelanced back in the days and I owed him a favor for stopping Caradoc," Lexi said, and Sherlock nodded in understanding.

"The demons beneath the road – this is where we trap them. Sherrinford is more than a prison or an asylum; it is a fortress built to keep the rest of the world safe from what is inside it," Mycroft told the group who were listening intently. "Heaven may be a fantasy for the credulous and the afraid, but I can give you a map reference for Hell," Mycroft said, and Sherlock looked at him sharply. Mycroft drew in a breath before he continued. "That's where our sister has been since early childhood. She hasn't left – not for a single day. Her only visitor has been Alexandria," Mycroft informed his brother and Sherlock looked across to John, who returned his gaze as Sherlock gently rubbed circles on Lexi's back, settling both her and him. "Whoever you three met, it can't have been her," Mycroft told them, and Lexi shook her head.

"My, I see it now. She is really good at disguises but there is one thing she cannot change. Her eyes. I know it was her. If Caradoc is back, if you didn't let him go, then Sherrinford is breached. If he can get out, so can your sister," Lexi said and suddenly there was a loud crash of breaking glass from the direction of the kitchen, followed by the thump of something falling to the floor.

John turned in his chair to look, everyone's heads snapping towards the direction of the kitchen and then all six of them stood up. Beyond all the equipment on the table and a clothes airer with various bits of paperwork clipped to it, they could see that the top part of the window had been smashed in. From the floor behind the table, an adult woman's voice started softly singing. It was slightly tinny as if coming from a speaker.

"I that am lost / Oh, who will find me / Deep down below / The old beech tree?" The voice sang and Mycroft's face filled with horror as a small drone rose up from the floor and hovered sideways across the room. "Help succour me now / The East Wind's blowing / Sixteen by six, brother / And under we go," The song continued and the drone began to fly forward across the kitchen table, the wind from its four rotors blowing papers and other stuff off the table. As it headed towards the living room, Mycroft spoke urgently.

"Keep back! Keep as still as you can!" Mycroft ordered them and they all froze in place, Sherlock and Lexi hardly even blinking.

"What is it?" John demanded as he and Mary backed towards the dining table.

"My soul seeks / The shade of my willow's bloom ...," The song continued as Sherlock reached down and took Lexi's hand in his own, squeezing it slightly.

"It's a drone," Sherlock said, and John threw a look at the detective.

"Yeah, I can see that," John told him sarcastically. He glanced towards Mycroft as the drone continued into the room, the singing voice still coming from it. There was a large silver-green grenade-shaped object on top of the drone. "What's it carrying?" John asked worriedly.

"What's that silver thing on top of it, Mycroft?" Sherlock asked, both he and Lexi standing near the fireplace.

"It's a DX-707," Joanna answered him, standing with her husband near the living room door. "Mycroft and I authorized the purchase of quite a few of these on my suggestion. We have to be cleverer than those who seek to destroy us these days. Violence is on the rise and if we are going to protect all we hold dear, we must adapt," Joanna explained as the drone hovered in mid-air between the three groups.

"Colloquially it is known as "the patience grenade."" Mycroft added as the drone landed on the floor and its rotors shut down.

""Patience"?" John asked as the grenade buzzed and the top popped up a little, showing a bright red light emanating from inside the device. It repeatedly beeped quietly.

"The motion sensor is activated. If any of us move, the grenade will detonate. Keep movements small. We don't want it going off accidentally," Joanna told them all through clenched teeth.

"How powerful?" Sherlock asked, barely moving his lips.

"It will certainly destroy this flat and kill anyone in it. Assuming walls of reasonable strength, your neighbors should be safe, but as it's landed on the floor, I am moved to wonder if the café below is open," Mycroft informed him, and Lexi hummed slightly.

"It's Sunday morning so the café will be closed. At least that is some good news," Lexi told him, and John slid his eyes to the floor.

"What about Mrs. Hudson?" John asked in concern. They could all faintly hear a vacuums cleaner down below which was a blessing.

"Going by her usual routine, I estimate she has another two minutes left," Sherlock informed them.

"She keeps the vacuum cleaner at the back of the flat," John said, catching on to what Sherlock was saying.

"So?" Mycroft asked, as if that made a difference.

"So, safer there when she's putting it away?" John asked, looking between the women in the room. Mycroft turned his head towards him, and it was a miracle that the bomb didn't promptly go off.

"Stop moving!" Joanna hissed at her husband before her eyes flickered to the other women. "What do you think Lex?" Joanna asked her best friend.

"Well, there is a load bearing wall in the back of Gran's flat. It is also closest from the blast. That means it is the safest place for her to be," Lexi informed them all.

"The children are out of the flat as well," Mary added, and everyone hummed in agreement.

"Look, we have to move eventually," John told them all what they were already thinking. "We should do it when she's safest."

"When the vacuum stops, we give her eight seconds to get to the back of the flat. She's fast when she's cleaning. Then we move," Sherlock told them all, formulating a plan and then he looked at Mycroft. "What's the trigger response time?" Sherlock asked and Mycroft looks at him blankly. "Once we're mobile, how long before detonation?" Sherlock demanded.

"We have a maximum of three seconds to vacate the blast radius," Mycroft informed them all and John closed his eyes and sagged slightly. It was apparent to all of them that some of them might not make it, if any of them even could.

"John, Mary, Lexi and I will take the windows; you and Joanna take the stairs. Help get Mrs. Hudson out too," Sherlock ordered, and Lexi steeled herself for their mad dash to escape. She made peace with herself in that moment. If anything happened to her or Sherlock, she knew that Mama and Papa Holmes would raise the twins. They had so many friends, so many people who loved them. Her babies would be safe and loved.

"Me?" Mycroft asked in shock, drawing Lexi back to the moment.

"You and Joanna are closer," Lexi explained to him and if he could have, he probably would have shaken his head.

"You two are faster," Mycroft retorted, and Lexi would have rolled her eyes if she could.

"Speed differential won't be as critical as the distance," Sherlock quipped back.

"Yes, agreed," Mycroft unhappily consented.

"She's further away. She's moving to the back," John told them, referring to the humming sound of the vacuum cleaner downstairs.

"I estimate we have a minute left," Sherlock told him before he looked at his wife out of the corner of his eye. "I wish I had more time to say everything I haven't said," Sherlock began, and Lexi had to fight down the fond smile that was threatening at the corner of her lips.

"You don't have to say anything. I know exactly how you feel. I never would have changed anything. Even if this is how it ends for us. I love you, Lock. I will always love you. This life, being your wife, it's all I could ever have hoped for," Lexi told her husband, glad that they were at least holding hands. Quietly everyone said what they never got a chance to.

"Mary, I want you to know, all of this, everything, I wouldn't change it for anything," John said to his wife as Sherlock and Lexi spoke quietly to one another across the room.

"Even the lies?" Mary asked him, hating that she couldn't turn her head to look at her husband.

"Everything. All of it. I love you Mary. Rosie, you…you're all I ever wanted in life," John told her honestly and Mary could fee tears leaking down her cheeks.

"I love you too, John. I've been so happy being your wife, being the mother of your child," Mary told the army doctor and John bared his teeth, sighing slightly as he tried to keep himself composed.

"Mon amore," Mycroft began, thankful that he was facing his wife. While he remained stoic in public, Joanna was the only person who knew the true him.

"Don't get sappy with me now amante," Joanna said, and Mycroft could hear the emotion in her voice that she was trying to hide. Like him, she hid her emotions behind a mask.

"Please," Mycroft said, and Joanna's lips tightened only slightly. "I know I am a hard man to love. I consider it a privilege and an honor to call you my wife. You've made me happy. I wish we had more time for me to tell you all the ways in which I love you," Mycroft told his wife and Joanna looked away from him as tears threatened to fall.

"I thought you were rude and arrogant when we first met, but then that day in the elevator, I saw a crack in you mask and I realized that you were someone I truly had come to care about. Seeing you every morning, all those late nights together, I grew to love you in so many ways. Having you for a husband has been nothing short of amazing. I want you to know that. I love you amante, with all that I am," Joanna told her husband and she saw Mycroft swallow thickly at her words. The three couples turned their attention back to the moment, all ready for what was about to happen.

"Oscar Wilde," John said suddenly, drawing all of their attention to him.

"What?" Mycroft asked in confusion.

"He said, "The truth is rarely pure, and never simple." It's from 'The Importance of Being Earnest.' We did it in school," John said ,and Sherlock quirked a lopsided grin.

"So did we. Now I recall. I was Lady Bracknell," Mycroft told them, nodding very slightly and John smiled a little.

"Yeah. You were great," Sherlock told his brother honestly.

"You really think so?" Mycroft asked him, surprised.

"Yes, I really do," Sherlock told him honestly.

"Well, that's good to know. I've always wondered," Mycroft said and the vacuum cleaner shuts down downstairs. They gave it a few seconds, then they all looked at one another.

"Good luck," Sherlock told them all.

"See you in Hell," Joanna told them, and they all paused for a moment.

"Three, two, one, go!" Sherlock counted loudly and then they all turned and raced for their exit points. Mycroft and Joanna heading out of the door, John and Mary running for the right-hand window and Sherlock and Lexi leaping up onto the back of his chair on their way to the left-hand window.

Behind them the device exploded, and flames swept across the room in all directions, enveloping everything in their path. John, Mary, Sherlock, and Lexi hurled themselves through the glass and plummeted towards the road below and a massive fireball roared out of the windows behind them. Black smoke rose high into the sky. The impact of their bodies hitting the ground took their breath away. As they began blacking out, Sherlock and Lexi locked eyes. Together or not at all.