Holmes Again

by LizzeXX

Sherlock/OC – Sherlock and Leena, newly married, are called back to London before their exile could even begin. With Moriarty seemingly back and taking up focus, will Sherlock miss the real danger lurking about? When tragedy strikes a beloved wife will it push him on or will the failure break him down? The East Wind comes for all eventually. Fourth in the Jackie Holmes Chronicles.

8. The Final Problem: A Sister

The Final Problem: A Sister

Sherlock looked down at his mobile as it vibrated in his hand, seeing a message from Leena.

Film's cut off
LH

His lip quirked up of its own accord when he saw her initials. She always would just sign off as 'L' but now she took to 'LH' for Leena Holmes. It shouldn't be so distracting, given she'd done it ever since their wedding, literally texting him from where she'd been sitting next to him in the cab ride from the venue a simple smiling emoji just so she could sign it that way, but every time he saw it he smiled at the reminder.

She was his wife now.

A wife who was also helping him launch psychological warfare on his brother.

How had ever become this lucky?

This was shaping up to be a very good day!

Well, relatively speaking. John probably wasn't having the best day. And, by rights, HE should be having a worse day than this considering his entire world might very well be turned on its side depending what he learned from Mycroft in the next few minutes, whether his brother would confirm or reject a revelation John had blurted out upon entering 221B only hours ago.

It had been quite a shock to them, to him, Leena, and Mary, who had come to them concerned when John hadn't come home after work and hadn't phoned or texted that he would be late as he always did. Not even ten minutes after she'd arrived, John came barreling through the door, slamming it open with such force that he woke Hamish, who had been dozing in Mary's arms, and caused the boy to start crying which then made Liberty begin to cry.

(He honestly wasn't sure whether Liberty did that due to the noise jarring her or the fact that Hamish was just sad and it made her sad, she was too young to tell for sure, though he found himself endeared to the thought that his daughter was just empathetic and cared about other people, just like her mother. It certainly made life easier, in terms of making friends, when one gave off the impression of caring rather than being indifferent like he often was.)

While Mary soothed the boy and he cradled Liberty and Leena hurried to get John sitting down and moved to make some tea for the startled man, John had revealed that he thought Sherlock was in grave danger…from his sister.

Truly, for a moment he wasn't proud of, he'd thought John meant Harriet. But, then again, he was always a little more distracted when his daughter was in his arms and requiring his attention. The fact that Leena had come back in with the tea and asked what Harriet had done made him feel better though, even she had thought it!

It wasn't till John proclaimed that he was talking about Sherlock's sister, that it began to sink in. At least he hadn't been alone in his confusion and denial that he didn't have a sister then either, because Leena was right there beside him, frowning and confused as well, SHE had never met or heard of a third Holmes child and what was John talking about? Was he SURE he didn't need to go to the hospital?

The man had fumbled through his explanation, how Mycroft had let slip once that he'd had some hand in a familial event surrounding a 'before' implying there was another sibling he'd handled in the past besides Sherlock. Then he spoke of his theory that there was a secret brother or something Mycroft was hiding from them…but that hadn't made sense to him because Sherlock had never mentioned another brother, nor had Leena, both of them had said in the past that Sherlock only had one sibling, Mycroft. So he'd thought he'd just misunderstood it…

Until his therapist had asked about the secret sibling.

When John hadn't said a word about it nor, he was sure, had anyone else that he knew who had contact with his therapist either.

And then his therapist revealed SHE was the secret sibling, Eurus.

Sherlock had tried to rationalize it that John had to be mistaken, or that his therapist truly had need of a therapist of her own if she believed she was related to him and Mycroft.

Until John added that she was the Faith Smith that Sherlock had met, that she'd admitted to impersonating Faith, and she was the woman he'd texted from the bus, and then she shot him!

…with a tranquilizer dart, but still! She SHOT him!

Leena had been the voice of reason amid his denials, that there was only one person who could say one way or the other if this woman was delusional or speaking the truth and it was Mycroft. She had asked Mary though, to take the children to Harriet's for a visit while they confronted Mycroft and this possible sister. The woman hadn't been happy, if they were going to confront the woman who shot her husband she wanted to be there! But when Leena pointed out that this woman was potentially delusional and clearly knew about Hamish and Liberty from John's sessions if nothing else, she was a danger to the children if she could just shoot John. She pointed out that neither of them were as skilled as her with weapons or as highly trained and careful. She was the only one they trusted to protect the children while this mad woman was on the loose.

Mary had begrudgingly agreed and left with Liberty and Hamish, leaving them to draft up a plan to confront Mycroft, waiting till they confirmed with Mary she was at Harriet's and safe before doing so.

Honestly, Sherlock was a bit surprised at Leena's involvement, she didn't often condone psychological warfare, as he'd been made aware when he'd tried to trick John during the dog case. She'd seen too many truly deranged criminals during her work with the BAU who utilized that tactic to feel comfortable allowing him to use it. But this was Mycroft and, apparently, she'd actually been giving a ridiculous amount of thought to a way to get the man to confess Sherlock was alive when he'd faked his death and had been 2 weeks late in returning, before she'd decided that, as entertaining as having the man shite his pants would be, just confronting him and letting him know SHE knew the truth would save time since she really was very worried about Sherlock's wellbeing.

The plan she'd initially drafted though had always been at the back of her mind and, with some adaptations from Sherlock and his knowledge of his brother and his own back-of-the-mind plans to one day attempt such psychological warfare on the man, they had things ready to go by nightfall.

John was setting up some capsules to release trails of blood on a set of portraits, Leena was editing footage to interfere with Mycroft's movie night, and he was orchestrating the two of his Homeless Network he'd roped into helping him, one dressed like a little girl and the other like a clown.

The clown had been Leena's idea.

He was never going to make the mistake of making an enemy of his wife, ever. She was devious.

On his way
LH

Came another text. He nodded to himself, knowing that Leena had finished her task. She was going to cut in footage of some old family video he had of him and Mycroft at the beach with his parents, just a short while before he met Leena, to get the man's mind on his family, on this supposed missing sister. Right near the end would be a segment of 'I'M BACK' to spook him. He would then, undoubtedly, try to leave the viewing room only to find that one door was locked, leaving him only one option of using the second door.

A bit of hiding in the dark from Leena, disguising her voice, pitching it a bit, and whispering his name would have Mycroft running.

"Go," he turned to the two men helping him, sending the one dressed as a girl off running, his footsteps hard on the stairs to draw Mycroft's attention.

Sherlock gave a nod to the other man, the clown, to go sneak up behind Mycroft, and he made his way towards the viewing room, being sure to make some creaking noises and flicker the lights as he went. He waited till Mycroft passed and headed down another hall, before he ducked into the viewing room to see Leena pulling herself up from behind the row of seats she'd hidden behind. She sent him a smirk and wink.

He tossed her a small microphone once she was near enough to catch it with her good arm, her other still in a sling, "Mycroft…" she spoke into it, pitching her voice again, trying to make it sound as young as possible, being careful with her words and accent to reflect the one John had described the therapist having that seemed, to him, to be her actual accent.

Sherlock moved his hand to the small of her back to lead her out, moving up a set of stairs reserved for the 'servants' so they could get above Mycroft and watch him squirm in the dark. By now, by his count, Mycroft should be discovering the mannequin John set up of a little girl.

"Why don't you come out and show yourself?" they could hear Mycroft shouting, "I don't have time for this."

Leena snorted, lifting the microphone again, continuing to speak as though a child, "We have time, brother dear. All the time in the world."

They paused, hearing a thumping noise of Mycroft giving chase, so he'd spotted the 'little girl' running around his home and was trying to catch her.

"My-croft," Leena sing-songed.

"Who are you?!" Mycroft demanded, sounding like it was from down the hall, by the main stairs.

"You know who!"

"Impossible…" Mycroft declared.

Sherlock stiffened, looking to Leena, serious, as Mycroft confirmed what John had told them. He would only utter that word if he truly thought someone was there who shouldn't be. He wouldn't be this frightened over a ghost story, it was a real person, alive and physically there.

"Nothing's impossible," Leena continued when the lights flickered thanks to John, a signal that Mycroft had reached the portraits, "You of all people know that," she waited a minute and a half, giving Mycroft time to see the portraits, before continuing, using a phrase Sherlock had suggested if this 'Eurus' was actually his sister, because Eurus meant 'the East Wind' and there was one particular phrase Mycroft always used when it came to that danger, "Coming to get you!" Sherlock turned and grabbed a helmet off of a nearby suit of armor, bowling it down the hall towards his brother and ducking to the side, out of sight, "There's an East Wind coming, Mycroft! Coming to get you!"

"You can't have got out!" Mycroft shouted, "You can't!"

Sherlock managed to catch Leena's gaze even in the dark, nodding his head, grim.

It wasn't a stranger, it wasn't some delusional woman. The East Wind had been a specific choice of words meant to test him. Mycroft could have shouted out 'who are you?!' at that, but instead he confirmed this was someone he had locked away, someone who should be secure…and someone he was very, very frightened of being released.

It was only a clattering sound that pulled Sherlock's attention away, looking over to see that the clown had appeared and was confronting Mycroft with a sword. They could just barely make out Mycroft at the end of the hall, holding the umbrella he often carried, though it was the gun he kept sheathed in it, which he now had ripped the end off to reveal. Sherlock rolled his eyes, his brother really was THE most predictable man in the world.

"No use, Mycroft," Leena taunted when the man tried to fire the gun at the clown only to find it empty, "There's no defense…and nowhere to hide."

The clown charged at Mycroft who turned and ran down another set of stairs, racing for the nearest doors, but they were locked.

"Come on," Sherlock sighed, "Enough of this," he declared, moving to step onto the hall that looked down on the foyer, drawing Mycroft's attention to him.

"Sherlock?" Mycroft breathed, "Help me!"

Sherlock raised his hand and let out a piercing whistle, John turning the lights on at the signal, the clown standing down, and the other man in the girl's dress and wig jogging forward as they'd been told to do.

"Experiment complete," Sherlock eyed Mycroft, "Conclusion: I have a sister."

"This was you?!" Mycroft glared up at him, "All of this was you?"

"US," Leena corrected as she moved beside him, the microphone by her lips so he heard her speak as though the little girl, before lowering it.

"Conclusion two," Sherlock continued, "My sister, Eurus, apparently, has been incarcerated from an early age in a secure institution controlled by my brother," he waved down at the man, "Hey, bro!"

"You're never being godfather now, Mycroft," Leena warned him, frowning at him. Sherlock had a theory that Eurus was his younger sister, not older, she didn't know what made him think that, but if the woman HAD been his younger sister, she would have been very, very young when she was taken away. For Mycroft to do that to a child? If she and Sherlock had another baby one day, Mycroft was off the list till the end of time.

"Why would you do this…" Mycroft looked around, "This pantomime? Why?"

Sherlock ignored him, "Conclusion three: you are terrified of her!"

"You have no idea what you're dealing with. None at all!"

Leena frowned at that, hearing an actual tremor in his voice. Normally Mycroft would have more arrogance in his voice, when he wanted Sherlock to just take him at his word and believe him, this...the tremor, it made it sound almost like he was pleading, like he was genuinely worried for what Sherlock might try to do when he didn't understand the situation. It made her feel like there was more going on, which, to be fair, she HAD suspected anyway. For as horrified as she was at the thought of Mycroft locking a child away, part of her, the small part that knew Mycroft really was an intelligent man, knew he really had to have a good reason to do it. She was just furious he had kept it quiet all these years, from everyone apparently.

"New information," John's voice joined them as the man strode out from a hall below to stand before Mycroft, "She's out."

"That's not possible."

"It's more than possible," Sherlock defended.

"She was John's therapist," Leena told him.

"Shot me during a session," John added.

"Only with a tranquillizer," Sherlock scoffed.

"We still had ten minutes to go."

"Well, we'll see about a refund," he reached out and absently put his hand on the small of Leena's back, leading her to the stairs to head down to the others, calling out to the two of his Network that had assisted them, "Right, you two. Wiggins has got your money by the gate. Don't spend it all in one crack den."

"Or on crack at all!" Leena shouted, but they were already off.

"Oh," Sherlock mused as they reached the bottom and came face-to-face with Mycroft, "I hope we didn't spoil your enjoyment of the movie."

Mycroft frowned when neither of them said a word more, just heading for the previously locked doors, "You're just leaving?"

"Well, we're not staying here," Sherlock scoffed, "Eurus is coming and, uh, someone's disabled all your security."

"Sorry," Leena wiggled her phone at him, "Not sorry."

"Sleep well!" Sherlock called over his shoulder as he and Leena left, though they remained near enough to wait for John and hear what Mycroft might say to him when he thought they weren't around to hear, wanting more clues.

"Doctor Watson," Mycroft stopped him, "Why would he do that to me? That was insane!"

"You think this was all Sherlock?" John snorted, HE knew that Sherlock also had a hand in this, tweaking things, adding to it, but a majority of this plan was 2 years in the making for Leena when her frustrations with Mycroft ran too high, "You let Jackie think her husband was dead for two years, Mycroft, this was her going easy on you."

"She knew he was alive!" Mycroft defended.

"Well, also, she's a profiler, and her profile of you said that you wouldn't tell the truth unless you were actually wetting yourself."

"So that's it, is it? You're just going?"

"Well, don't worry. There's a place for people like you, the desperate, the terrified, the ones with nowhere else to run."

"What place?"

"221B Baker Street," John stated, before heading for the door after them, "See you in the morning. If there's a queue, join it!"

"For God's sake! This is not one of your idiot cases."

"Oh," John paused and turned back to Mycroft, pointing up the stairs, "You might wanna close that window. There IS an East Wind coming," before he reached out and pulled the door shut, smirking when he saw the others, "How long?"

"He'll be first in line," Leena declared.

Sherlock hummed, considering it, "He'd never want to appear that desperate."

"But he IS that scared," Leena countered, which made Sherlock frown.

In all his life he'd never seen his brother genuinely terrified or something or someone else. This sister of theirs, whoever she was, whatever she'd done…she inspired that in Mycroft. He trusted Leena's assessment of it, knowing he wasn't the best at hearing fear in other people's voices or actions, but Leena was.

If he was first in line…then this truly was the most dangerous case they had ever taken on.

~8~

Leena sat on the arm of Sherlock's armchair, the man himself sitting in it, his hands steepled together under his chin, John across on his own chair, a pad of paper and a pen in hand, though their client was being rather reluctant to speak. She eyed Mycroft as he stood in the middle of the room, refusing to sit on the chair they reserved for clients, Mrs. Hudson in the doorway, observing for she was never fond when Mycroft was there and always sure he'd upset his brother, which was fair as he often did.

He had been first in line, as she'd feared.

"You have to sit in the chair," Mrs. Hudson finally said, for none of them were speaking, waiting for Mycroft to come to THEM for help this time, "They won't talk to you unless you sit in the chair. It's the rules."

"I'm not a client," Mycroft nearly sneered.

"Then get out," Sherlock replied simply.

Leena leaned forward to put a hand on his shoulder, knowing this entire thing had made him very on edge. He prided himself on his mind palace, on his memory, his observational skills…yet an entire person, an entire sibling, was just gone and he hadn't realized. He had deleted things before, people, names and faces he didn't need any longer once a case was solved. But never anyone from his family. It was making him question everything.

Leena, though, was of the mind that this was not a conscious decision on his part, he was fearful that it was and he just couldn't remember it.

She knew it was worrying him deeply, that if he could so easily remove or delete or forget his own sister…what could it mean for others? For her or Liberty? Would there ever come a day where he would delete them? He didn't feel he could trust himself any longer and she would do all she could to help him resolve this…even if it meant she had to kick Mycroft in the knees (or higher) instead of the shins to get him to sit in the damn chair!

Mycroft, either from Mrs. Hudson's prodding, or perhaps the way he noticed Leena's eyes narrow at his kneecaps, moved to sit in the chair…waiting for one of them to speak. He let out a sigh when he saw Mrs. Hudson still in the doorway, "She's not going to stay there, is she?"

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Mrs. Hudson asked by way of leaving.

"Thank you."

"The kettle's over there," she pointed, and headed down the stairs, leaving the three with a smile and Mycroft glowering.

"So what happens now?" Mycroft asked once he was sure Mrs. Hudson was far enough away to not overhear, "Are you going to make deductions?"

"You're going to tell the truth, Mycroft, pure and simple," Sherlock stated, leaning back in his chair, turning somewhat so Leena's hand was more firmly grounding him.

"Who was it said, 'Truth is rarely pure, and never simple?'"

"Oscar Wilde," Leena recited, "Stop trying to change the subject."

"So there were three of us," Sherlock began, getting to the point, "I know that now. You, me, and…Eurus," Mycroft nodded, "A sister I can't remember. Interesting name, Eurus. It's Greek, isn't it?"

"The god of the East Wind," Leena murmured, wanting badly to ask the questions she had herself about the woman, but right now Sherlock was the one who needed his answers first, "'The East Wind is coming to get us,'" she glared at Mycroft for that.

"You used that to scare us," Sherlock narrowed his own eyes, reminded of that. It started with him, a thing to get him to behave, Leena's English hadn't been strong enough to fully understand the threat, but when she could, the stories Mycroft would make up to frighten her as well, always the East Wind, eventually it became a tactic against her too.

He was starting to realize now, Mycroft had used it against Leena by making it a threat to HIM. He had started off saying the East Wind would come for Sherlock if he didn't behave, a way to try and get Leena to keep him out of trouble. But when their friendship strengthened and Leena was just as involved in the trouble they got into, Mycroft had begun to use it against HER too. A way to still keep him out of trouble, because he would never want to do anything that would put Leena in danger or get her in trouble, he wanted to protect her from the East Wind as much as she did him.

Finding out the boogieman of his childhood was a real person...he didn't know how to handle that.

"No," Mycroft shook his head.

"Please," Leena scoffed, offended that he would insult their recollections of that very real childhood scare.

"You turned my sister into a ghost story," Sherlock accused.

"Of course I didn't," Mycroft continued to insist, "I monitored you."

"You what?" John frowned.

Mycroft, instead of answering him or explaining to Sherlock, looked at Leena, knowing that, as angry as she was about how this would affect Sherlock, with her background, SHE would be the one more likely to LISTEN to him about this, "Memories can resurface, wounds can reopen," he nodded when he saw her stiffen at the implications he was bringing up, knowing he was getting through her anger and to her concern for Sherlock. It had the added effect of making Sherlock frown and drew his attention to his brother, seeing he might be willing to hear him out now too, "The roads we walk have demons beneath 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 whispered.

Leena reached out and ran a hand through his hair, looking at him so sadly, before she turned to Mycroft, understanding what he meant by resurfacing memories, "What did she do to Sherlock?" she asked, a waver in her voice that had Sherlock looking at her sharply, noting tears in the corner of her eyes, "Mycroft, what did she DO?"

Mycroft had to look away.

"Hold on…" John frowned, catching up a little faster than Sherlock, he was a medical man after all, "You don't think…"

"It's the only reason short of a head injury that would explain it," Leena cast a glance at John and back to Mycroft, "Trauma. She did something, or..." she seemed reluctant to say it, "Or multiple things, so traumatic that you blocked it out," she looked at Sherlock for the last part, "You would have had to be just a child when it happened, unable to cope with what she did and so you…blocked it. Blocked all of it, all of her."

Sherlock let out a breath at that, turning to Mycroft for confirmation.

Mycroft's grim expression said it all. He turned to John, "This is a private matter."

"John stays," Sherlock cut in when John moved to get up, his voice hard and shaking with anger that something might have happened to him at someone's hands and he couldn't remember who or what.

"This is family," Mycroft hissed at him.

"That's why he stays!" Sherlock snapped, glaring at Mycroft until the man leaned back in his chair, accepting John's presence.

John cleared his throat, "Let's start from the beginning," he suggested, "There were three Holmes kids…what was the age gap?"

"Seven years between Mycroft and Sherwood," Leena remarked, knowing that for certain.

"One year between Sherlock and Eurus," Mycroft finished.

"She was the younger?" Leena wanted to confirm, Mycroft nodded.

"Middle child," John murmured, "Explains a lot."

Sherlock shot him a look, though Leena chuckled lightly, continuing to card her hand through his hair in comfort, "It does," she had to admit. There were always some things he did that just didn't fit with the sociological aspect of birth order. It wasn't always the same, traits elder children developed compared to younger or middle children, or only children, but, in some psychological areas, they felt there were some things that happened as a result of order.

She'd always brushed it off as being his unique mind, that he just didn't subscribe to all that traditional nonsense, but now…with this information, it was a bit clearer. Sherlock didn't exhibit some signs of a youngest child, but sometimes of a middle child seeking attention that could, at times, fall more to the elder or youngest child. He never acted as though he expected Mycroft to fix his messes or felt entitled to get what he wanted, which some psychologists felt were typical of a youngest child. He could be a tad melodramatic, loved being independent, and favored alone time more than crowds, which could be more typical of a middle child.

"So did she have it too?" John continued to question Mycroft, pulling Leena's thoughts back to the present before she could spiral into comparing Sherlock to the average middle child even more.

"Have what?" the man frowned.

"The deduction thing."

"The deduction thing?"

"Yes."

Mycroft was silent a moment, before sighing, "More than you can know."

"How so?" Leena asked.

Mycroft turned to John, speaking to him first, "You realize I'm the smart one?"

"Debatable," Leena muttered under her breath, which drew a small smile from Sherlock, which she took as a victory.

"But Eurus," Mycroft turned back to them, "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."

"Then why don't I remember her?" Sherlock repeated, "What did she do to me?" he asked, agreeing with Leena's assessment. Even though John was the Doctor, part of Leena's degree dealt with psychology and mental trauma, if SHE thought this was some sort of repressed memory of the girl, he would believe her.

"You DO remember her, in a way," Mycroft remarked, "Every choice you ever made, every path you've ever taken, the man you are today…is your memory of Eurus," he glanced at Sherlock and then explained more to Leena and John, "She was different from the beginning. She knew things she should never have known as if she was somehow aware of truths beyond the normal scope…" he shifted in his seat, almost flinching.

"What's wrong?" John asked, ever the doctor.

Mycroft sighed, "The memories are disturbing."

Leena's jaw clenched at the confirmation she heard in his voice, "How so?" she asked again, bracing herself, removing her hand from Sherlock's hair to rest on his shoulder as though to brace him for what might come next.

"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 'I wanted to see how my muscles worked.'"

"Jesus!" John exclaimed, horrified.

"So I asked her if she felt pain, and she said…"

"Which one is pain?" Leena guessed, and Mycroft looked at her, startled at that, "Psychopathy. It can usually manifest with a high pain tolerance. Some times it seems like they can read minds, because they observe the nonverbal cues we give in our expressions, movements, and body language. They can understand emotions, even if it doesn't always register with them, which means they may lack emotional empathy. They understand pain and they use it manipulate other people. Emotional pain is complicated in terms of how they experience it, but it largely focuses on their deep desire to be loved and cared for, which is typically difficult to fulfil because of all the other traits they display and how it puts other people off."

"Yes," Mycroft swallowed, as though it were difficult for even him to admit their brilliant sister was a psychopath, but the traits Leena brought up were ones Eurus displayed to a T.

"What happened?" Sherlock breathed.

"Musgrave," Mycroft looked down.

"Musgrave?" Leena repeated, unfamiliar with the name.

"The ancestral home, where there was always honey for tea and Sherlock played among the funny gravestones," Mycroft answered.

"Funny how?" John asked before Leena could question why she didn't know that house, though Sherlock looked equally confused, like he only vaguely recollected the name.

It wasn't as alarming for her, not knowing who Eurus was, than it was for Sherlock. All she was coming to understand about Eurus, it was very likely that the girl was removed from the family before she'd even met Sherlock. If he'd forgotten her, or blocked the memory of her by then, and it seemed the family took great pains to keep him blocked, they would never have mentioned her. She would never have known there was a third child when she came around. She was angry with Mycroft for keeping this secret from Sherlock more than herself, but she WAS angry about it too.

"They weren't real. The dates were all wrong. An architectural joke which fascinated Sherlock."

Sherlock, who had been deep in thought, began to murmur, "'Help succor me now…'"

"'The East winds blow," Mycroft joined in, "Sixteen by six…and under we go,'" he looked at Sherlock, regretful and so sad, "You're starting to remember."

"Fragments," Sherlock admitted, reaching up to put a hand on Leena's, a silent promise he would tell her all he could recall soon, but for now he could bring up one thing, "I was looking for Redbeard."

"Redbeard?" John blinked, startled.

"He was my dog."

"I helped him pick it out," Leena added with a sad smile, "Redbeard II, technically. His first dog ran away and he was so sad about it when we met."

Sherlock looked up at her with a small smile, recalling that. It had always been a very tender spot for him, both Redbeards, one who ran away and the second who was put down in old age. He liked to remember only the second Redbeard as often as he could, the one Leena had gifted him, the one they raised and trained together no matter how much his father grumbled about it. When he'd been a child he liked to imagine that Redbeard ran away, and came back as a puppy so he could spend even more time with his owner. He knew it was just a fantasy of a heartbroken child, as an adult, though, he liked to remember Redbeard as just that, the dog he loved, not which Redbeard was which.

Leena blinked, tensing as though she'd worked something out and looked up at Mycroft, "No…"

He could only give her a grim nod, "Eurus took Redbeard and locked him up somewhere no one could find him. And she refused to say where he was. She'd only repeat that song as her little ritual. We begged and begged her to tell us where he was. But she said the song is the answer. But the song made no sense."

"What happened to Redbeard?" Sherlock turned to his brother, working out now what Leena had, though something niggled at the back of his mind and the deep frown on her face spoke the same concern…a missing dog would not have been enough to scar him so badly that he erased his sister from his memory, willingly or not.

"We never found him," Mycroft admitted, "But she started calling him 'Drowned Redbeard,' so we made our assumptions," he glanced between Leena and 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."

"No," Leena shook her head, "It wasn't just that. There's something else, Mycroft, tell us."

"They took her away," Mycroft began, "Because of what happened immediately afterwards. She started taking to drawing pictures of Sherlock, dead. In…many different ways, slit throat, hung, drowned, on a slab, his gravestone…mother and father were alarmed to say the least," he rubbed his hand across his eyes, "One night she started a fire…in Sherlock's room."

"Oh, my god," Leena breathed, that…that certainly would traumatize anyone, to have their own sister trying to murder them even once, let alone drawing pictures of different ways to do it.

"I was awake, reading, and got him out, shouted for mother and father to get Eurus…the house was ablaze by the time we got out. After that, our sister had to be taken away."

"Where?" Sherlock demanded.

"Oh, some suitable place," Mycroft scoffed, "Or so everyone thought. Not suitable enough, however. She died there."

"How?" John asked.

"She started another fire, one which she did not survive."

"Liar," Leena shook her head at him.

Sherlock nodded in agreement, both of them able to read Mycroft like a book when he did so, "This is a lie."

"Yes," he admitted, "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."

"And no doubt to prevent their further interference."

"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."

Leena shook her head at that, having to look away from Mycroft and all he'd revealed in just that sentence alone. Mycroft would have been too young to have any say in Eurus being removed from the family when all this happened. But he and his Uncle Rudy had always been close and she didn't doubt he'd made a good argument for the man to step in. She was both furious and heartbroken and relieved and it was difficult to process. The idea of any child being removed from their family and locked away, it was a heartbreaking thing to imagine, and she was furious at Mycroft and Rudy for ever thinking that was a wise thing to do.

Because Mycroft made no mention at all of anyone trying to HELP Eurus before that point.

Their parents thought the girl had tried to kill herself for god's sake and there was nothing about trying to get her help? No talk of therapists to step in? Professionals to talk with her? With all of Rudy's resources, he could have found the top specialists, those with experience handling psychopathy and helping them adapt. Not every person who had the disorder was a danger or criminal or intended to harm other people. And part of her couldn't help but feel like, even as a beyond intelligent child, Eurus might not have understood or known how to express some sort of frustration she had with Sherlock. MORE should have been done to help the girl before being removed or 'killed off' by Mycroft and, it seemed, locked away in even more isolation.

...and another part of her, the part attached to Sherlock, the part that loved him more than anything, was relieved Eurus had been taken away from HIM before she could inflict more damage.

The professional part of her wanted to understand, the personal part of her wanted to blame Eurus.

She did, fully, blame Rudy for his choices, and part of her blamed Mycroft. Because once he was an adult, he could have stepped in, he could have made different decisions, helped Eurus more, but it just kept going, and Eurus kept being isolated. And she truly feared for what had become of the girl now.

"Where is she, Mycroft?" Sherlock repeated, firm and angry at the thought of Eurus being locked away and hidden from him, "Where's our sister?"

"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.' 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. Heaven may be a fantasy for the credulous and the afraid, but I can give you a map reference for Hell," he took a breath when Sherlock shot him a glare, neither John nor Leena appearing impressed with that remark either, "That's where our sister has been since early childhood. She hasn't left, not for a single day. Whoever you both met, it can't have been her."

"You saw the footage, Mycroft," Leena began, about to remark on his reaction to seeing Faith and hearing her speak, it made sense to her now that it was more than just shock at seeing an actual person there but WHO that person was…when a loud crash, the sound of breaking glass, rang out from the kitchen.

They were all out of their seats, Leena already stepping towards the kitchen to see what it was when a buzzing noise started and a woman's voice began to sing.

"I that am lost," the voice began, and a quick glance at Mycroft told them all it was Eurus, "Oh, who will find me deep down below, the old beech tree?" they watched as a drone began to rise up from behind the small table set up there, hovering, "Help succor me now. The East Wind's blowing sixteen by six, brother, and under we go."

Mycroft's eyes widened as the drone began to drift towards them, an object set up on its back that made his heart stop, "Keep back!" he warned, his eyes shooting to Leena, the nearest to him, when she almost moved to try and grab the drone, "Keep as still as you can!"

"What is it?" John frowned, having backed up towards Sherlock, nearer the windows.

"My soul seeks," the voice continued to sing, "The shade of my willow's bloom…"

"It's a drone," Sherlock assessed.

"I think he meant what's that on top of it?" Leena remarked, eyeing the egg-like object set there, like a silver sort of grenade.

"It's a DX-707," Mycroft answered, watching as the drone hovered in the middle of the four of them, in the center of the room, "I've authorized the purchase of quite a number of these," his eyes tracked it as it began to lower onto the floor, "Colloquially it is known as 'the patience grenade.'"

"Patience?" John frowned, not liking the sound of that.

The grenade let out a soft buzzing noise and the top of it popped up, a bright red light shining from within, beeping.

"The motion sensor has activated. If any of us move, the grenade will detonate."

"How powerful?" Sherlock asked as they all froze.

"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."

"It's Sunday," Leena stated, "Closed."

"What about Mrs. Hudson?" John eyed the bauble.

Sherlock paused, listening to the faint sound of a vacuum below them, "Going by her usual routine, I estimate she has another two minutes left."

"She keeps the vacuum cleaner at the back of the flat."

"So?" Mycroft glanced at him.

"She won't be right under the blast if we wait till she's at the back of the flat," Leena spelled it out for him.

"When the vacuum stops, we give her eight seconds to get to the back of the flat," Sherlock spoke, "She's fast when she's cleaning. Then we move," he glanced at his brother, "What's the trigger response time? Once we're mobile, how long before detonation?"

"We have a maximum of three seconds to vacate the blast radius," Mycroft stated.

Leena closed her eyes for a moment, taking a breath before she opened them to look at Sherlock, "You two take the windows," she suggested, spying them within feet of them.

"And you take the stairs," Sherlock agreed, for Leena and Mycroft were nearer the door, "Help get Mrs. Hudson out too."

John glanced down, "She's further away," he noted, the noise of the vacuum moving, "She's moving to the back."

"I estimate we have a minute left," Sherlock mused, "Is a phone call possible?"

"Phone call?" Mycroft scoffed.

"John has a wife and son," Sherlock reminded the man, "He may wish to say goodbye."

Even as he spoke, his eyes were locked on Leena's. He'd asked for John because Mary wasn't there the way Leena was, Hamish was also older than Liberty, he would recognize John's voice at the very least whereas their daughter wouldn't know either of them. They had taken precautions, of course, after they had dealt with Smith. Much like he had left John a video and Leena left him one, they had made one for their daughter, kept with his parents, if anything were to happen to them. She would be able to see them say goodbye one day if they couldn't do it in person.

"I'm sorry, Doctor Watson." Mycroft spoke, "Any movement will set off the grenade. I hope you understand."

"It won't be necessary," Leena murmured, her eyes on the grenade, "We'll make it, three seconds is an eternity."

Sherlock snorted, though there was a faint quirk on his lips at her faith in this, "As we learned," he caught her eye, "Having to sit through Mycroft as Lady Bracknell."

"'The Importance of Being Earnest,'" Mycroft recalled his role in that school play, understanding now where the Oscar Wilde quote had come from, "You didn't like it."

Sherlock's face scrunched as though to say 'could have been better,' which earned a small chuckle from Mycroft.

"She's finished," Leena cut in, hearing the vacuum turn off.

Sherlock counted the eight seconds and looked at them, "Good luck," he said, but his eyes, on Mycroft for all of a moment, said another.

Mycroft gave a curt nod, not needing words to know what Sherlock was asking him, reassuring his brother he would see it done.

Sherlock took a breath, "Three, two, one…go!"

On that single word, Sherlock and John turned, making a go for the windows, ready to jump through them to the street to avoid the oncoming blast, while Mycroft and Leena turned to race for the door. Mycroft hesitated for the briefest of moments as they drew nearer, reaching out his hand to Leena's back to push her through first, leaping past the frame after her as the grenade detonated and tore the flat apart…

~8~

Everything had been chaos and confusion and a mad scramble after 221B had been utterly destroyed. Mary had been called, informed to be on watch, warned to keep near any doors and all windows closed no matter the room she entered, to not go anywhere without the children in hand. Mrs. Hudson had been hurried off to Molly's until they could fix the flat and clear it of any other threats.

And then there was the matter of getting to Sherrinford without Eurus noticing or anyone at the facility realizing. Mycroft had finally realized something was very wrong at the facility if that drone was able to make it there because Eurus was meant to be locked away tightly, with no access to practically anything. If she was able to get this to them, then security had been compromised and he had to see to it now. Neither Sherlock nor John nor Leena would allow him to go alone, Sherlock because it was his sister too, Leena her sister-in-law, and John because the woman had nearly made his child half an orphan and he wanted to make sure his wife and son were safe.

Mycroft had been promised as the godfather of their third-born child to get him to agree to their going. The second-born was already reserved for two people in America to be godparents.

Clearly he hadn't been paying attention when they had jokingly remarked about only having one child in the meeting just after they got off the plane. If they made it to two, they both doubted they'd head for three. But, they did always love making Mycroft think he was in charge.

Getting to Sherrinford without being noticed was another story, though it should never be said that the Holmes brothers weren't creative. They had made it by helicopter, a favor owed to Sherlock, to a small boat sailing near the island prison in a thick fog and boarded it, quickly taking over the ship as the pirate Sherlock often pretended to be as a child would have always dreamed to do. They took over the ship quite easily due to John's gun and the element of surprise, tied up the crew and sailed the boat straight for Sherrinford.

It had been…not quite what any of them were expecting. The way Mycroft spoke of the base, it could have been an Alcatraz, but it was quite a bit more modernized and high tech. It was a castle-like structure, but with flat areas for helicopters to use, guards everywhere, with guns, patrolling all angles. It took a bit of wiggle room to get the boat to head for the island with the island already aware of their approach on radar. But the boat was quick and they didn't need much but a diversion to keep the guards within from noticing a few odd instances.

They put the two crew, tied up, on the sand with a message for Eurus, 'Tell My Sister I'm Here' and managed to get a fair distance away, or at least Leena and John had, with Mycroft disguised as a third deckhand with a thick white beard. Sherlock, if all went to plan, would knock one of the guards out and take his place to follow them in.

As expected when they answered the radio calls warning them away from the prison, telling anyone that they were about to crash into the rocks was enough to send the entire facility on alert. They hadn't wanted Eurus to know they were coming until they were already there. Guards swarmed the beach, quickly finding the two tied men, and then 'just so happening' to stumble upon John and Leena as they 'fought off' an angry captain a short distance away, the man irate that they'd 'stolen his boat.' They were quickly led away, right into the base.

If there was one way to get to your enemy, it was by being captured.

Oldest trick in the book.

Leena couldn't help but think Mycroft needed better men on this island if they fell for that so easily.

It was as they expected though, being led though the very high tech facility and to an interrogation room, a 'guard' following the governor of the island in when the man finally came to question them.

"This is a mistake!" the 'captain' began the second the door was open, "I'm the victim 'ere. These two stole my boat!" he pointed at John and Leena, "They're pirates!"

"Yeah, we really are," John shrugged as Leena crossed her arm over her sling and nodded.

"Please, sit down," the governor tried to calm the angry fisherman.

"I don't even know who they are!" the man continued to rant, but did sit.

"He's Doctor John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers," the Governor explained, "And she's Jacqueline Holmes, wife of Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

"The detective?" the fisherman frowned.

The governor ignored him, turning to look at the two others, "What are you doing here?"

"It's a hospital," John shrugged again, "Any work?"

"It's not a hospital."

"I'm here to meet my sister-in-law," Leena offered, giving the man a sly smile that set him immediately on edge.

Without looking away from them the Governor held out a pass to the guard behind him, unwilling to risk Dr. Watson attacking him from behind, "I want eyes on Eurus Holmes. Go straight to the Special Unit, deploy Green and Yellow Shift on my authority."

"Sir," the guard nodded, his north Irish accent thick as he took the card and left, buzzing himself in and out of the room and walking off with a limp.

"I'm sparing your blushes because we're supposed to be on the same side," the governor moved to sit across from them, though he spoke more to John, "And frankly, this is embarrassing."

"Ooh, doing a cavity search?" John asked, unperturbed.

"My husband and brother-in-law will object to that," Leena remarked.

The governor narrowed his eyes at her and turned to the fisherman who was keeping his head low, "The true art of disguise, according to your famous friend, is not being looked at," he eyed the man, "But I am looking at you, aren't I, Mr. Holmes?"

"Yes, you are," the man spoke, his accent different, more south-west and well educated, which made the governor smile, thinking he'd caught them out.

"You do understand that was the point though, yes?" Leena asked as the fisherman stood and began to take his hat off.

"See, you should have been looking at the guy you just gave your pass to," John agreed, when the man pulled his beard off to reveal Mycroft and not Sherlock stood before him.

~8~

Sherlock kept up the ruse, limping down the halls as quick as he could, knowing the others would only be able to hide Mycroft for so long as the trick was rather obvious. He swiped the card through a reader, entering the lift it revealed and heading down into the depths of hell.

~8~

Leena rolled her eyes as Mycroft stood before the two way mirror, fixing his tie, having worn his typical suit attire under the fisherman's yellow jacket, sans suit jacket, the makeup and prosthetics now removed from his face, "That's the trouble with uniforms and name badges," he remarked, "People stop looking at faces. You'd be better off with clown outfits," he turned around to glare at the governor, "At least they'd be satirically relevant."

"Oh, you'll find the real Landers on the north shore, tied up with two others," John spoke to the startled governor.

"Two others?" the man gaped.

"Mycroft's been cheating on his diet," Leena whispered loudly, "Took some time to find the right waistband."

"This is insane!" the governor leapt to his feet, "This is unnecessary!"

"No, your security is compromised and we don't know who to trust," John countered.

"And that justifies dressing up?"

"Yes it does!" Mycroft snapped, angrier than even Leena had ever heard him, turning to glare at the governor, "It justifies dressing up or any damned thing I say it does. Now, listen to me: for your own physical safety do not speak, do not indulge in any non-verbal signals suggestive of internal thought. If the safety of my sister is compromised, if the security of my sister is compromised, if the incarceration of my sister is compromised, in short, if I find any indication my sister has left this island at any time, I swear to you, you will not."

Leena let out a low whistle that had Mycroft's lip quirking, before he focused on the governor again, "Say thank you to Doctor Watson."

"Why?" the governor frowned.

"He talked me out of Lady Bracknell. This could have been very different."

"Very disturbing, too," Leena agreed, recalling that performance with a shudder.

Mycroft turned his head and touched his right ear, to the communication device he'd linked to his brother's, "Are you in?" he called to Sherlock.

"Just arriving at the Secure Unit," Sherlock answered, "Explain."

"A prison within a prison. Eurus must be allowed the strict minimum of human interaction."

"Why?"

"Since you're determined to meet her, you're about to find out."

Leena frowned, looking at Mycroft for that remark as he kept proving, over and over, why he wasn't the smart one. And not just about the decision to completely isolate his own sister in such a way. Human interaction was essential for development, for the hope to even begin to breed empathy and understanding. Cutting her off, from such a young age? It was almost like Mycroft had been hoping to exacerbate her psychopathy. She had to shake her head at that decision, so many mistakes by people who claimed to know what they were doing but had no idea. This wasn't just about Eurus's isolation, but how Mycroft was setting Sherlock up for this meeting.

The smart one would have warned Sherlock exactly about all of this before he went down there. The smart one would have explained how psychopaths work, how the mind riddled with psychosis operated, especially one deprived of all that interaction for years on end. The smart one would have given him tips and tricks and suggestions on how to protect himself from interacting with a psychopath so as not to be fooled by those intentionally trying to manipulate other people the way she was sure Eurus would.

Mycroft had done none of that.

…good thing she had.

~8~

Sherlock reached the far end of the corridor the lift took him to, stopping between two guards, noticing the sound of someone playing the violin even through the thick doors of what had to be Eurus's cell. He kept his expression blank even as he recognized the song, the one that had been echoing in his memories, the song Mycroft said Eurus sang as the answer to where Redbeard was.

"Eyes on Eurus Holmes," he spoke to the guards, slinging a rifle off his shoulder to hand to the guards, "Governor's orders."

~8~

"Answer yes or no," Mycroft spoke as he stepped towards the governor, now wearing a jacket with is suit, "Has there ever been, against my express instructions, any attempt at a psychiatric evaluation of Eurus Holmes?"

Leena shot Mycroft a narrow-eyed look for that, only able to assume that, since he'd taken over from his Uncle Rudy, that that was a standing order. She had to hope that, at some point, someone had done some sort of evaluation of Eurus, otherwise how would anyone know or work out how to help her? She wanted to believe Mycroft wasn't just determining he knew best and ignoring expert evaluations, but, given all she'd seen and heard so far, she doubted it. If no one evaluated her then no plan could be made to help her adapt or learn how to live in the real world.

It made her all the more certain she and Sherlock would NEVER have a third child, if Mycroft could treat his own sister in such a way and, from what it appeared, not get her any help or even try to help her learn since she was a girl.

Now...now she feared it was too late, too long, for Eurus to have any hope of any sort of rehabilitation. After so many years she would be too institutionalized, too developed, to really be able to change without near constant work and help and with the woman trying to kill them all she doubted Eurus would have any inclination or desire to change either.

And that broke her heart, because now she would have to be professional, she couldn't let herself be personal about this. She had to be objective, she had to look at Eurus and not see a Holmes or Sherlock's sister, but an unsub to be dealt with and investigated. She couldn't afford to let her emotions interfere with this, she would need to be clinical, distant, detached because...she doubted Mycroft or Sherlock would be able to.

"Yes," the governor admitted.

"I presume the tapes are in my office?" he asked, heading for the door.

"Your office?"

"Cast your mind back. It used to be yours," Mycroft remarked, John and Leena following close behind.

~8~

Sherlock took a breath as he stepped onto a marked area of the floor two feet in front of the door, allowing the scanner above him to look for anything. He glanced over at a man by a desk, running the scan, and then to the door where another guard was standing.

"You 'aven't been down 'ere before, 'ave you?" the man eyed Sherlock, "'Silence of the Lambs,' basically."

"You...what?"

"Keep your distance," the guard warned, "Stay at least three feet away from the glass an' all that."

Sherlock frowned at how much like a zoo that sounded, glancing up when the light of the scanner turned green, allowing him clearance even though the man at the desk was hardly paying attention, his head nodding as he listened to music through his own headphones, "Why the headphones?"

"She doesn't stop playin', sometimes for weeks."

"Beautiful."

"Kills you in the end."

"Aye. Still beautiful, though," Sherlock stepped forward when the door opened, allowing him into another lift.

The second the door shut behind him, he began pulling off his outer clothing, which had been hiding his normal suit, his white shirt and jacket, pulling the beanie off his head and leaving it behind when the doors opened before him.

He stepped out, observing the room and the woman within.

It was sparse, three glass panels blocking the entrance to the rest of the cell, each with a notice stenciled into the glass at the base, sides, and tops of it, warning to keep three feet away. Beyond the glass was a circular room, grey paneled, white lights above. The floor was grey save for a strip of white down the middle. There was a bed to the side of the room, a desk and chair fastened to the wall on the other side. No other furniture to be seen.

Right in the middle of the room though, was someone who could only be Eurus. She was wearing a white shirt and pants of medical style, with white flats, her black, wavy hair hanging freely down her back to the middle of it, with a violin in hand as she played a different song this time.

He took another step forward, the lift shutting behind him with enough noise for Eurus to pause in her playing, before resuming once more, her own song again, her back still to him.

~8~

Leena frowned as she stood in the main office of the base, steeling herself as she eyed the video footage playing on the screen of Eurus speaking to someone, there were four angles of the footage, the assessment Mycroft had forbid to happen. John was a few feet beside her, though he was turned to face both her and Mycroft, as he sat at the desk with the governor before him.

"Why am I here?" the Eurus on the footage was asking.

"Why do you think you're here?" a man offscreen countered.

"No one ever tells me."

"Liar," Leena murmured to herself, utilizing every facet of her training, degree, and experience to profile Eurus Holmes, noticing every detail she possibly could.

Behind her, though she couldn't see, Mycroft let out a breath, having heard her. It was a danger to speak with Eurus, he knew it best, that anyone who did was compromised, and that included allowing the viewing of footage and other recorded material. He had spent years working on himself so he could confront her without falling prey to her schemes and words. He would never say it out loud, but he was very relieved to see Leena's own training was making her as capable of identifying the manipulations as he was.

~8~

Sherlock eyed the woman even as she just kept playing, no other reaction besides the minor pause she'd given. He took a step towards her, his foot crossing a line on the floor that marked 3 feet, and she began to make a screeching noise on the violin, back and forth, over and over, till he stepped back to where he'd been, and she continued as though nothing had happened.

~8~

"Am I being punished?" Eurus asked, in the footage.

"You've been bad," the offscreen man remarked.

"There's no such thing as 'bad.'"

"What about good?"

"Good and bad are fairytales," Eurus stated, the footage switching to a closeup of her face, her eyes staring ahead, no meaningful expression to be seen, just as though she were stating fact she was bored of repeating, "We have evolved to attach an emotional significance to what is nothing more than the survival strategy of the pack animal. We are conditioned to invest divinity in utility. Good isn't really good, evil isn't really wrong, and bottoms aren't really pretty. You are a prisoner of your own meat."

"Why aren't you?"

"I'm too clever."

"So says every great villain," Leena remarked, which made John quirk a smile too for how true that was and also to help him relax from how tense he'd been, on edge about the danger present. If Leena could manage even a small joke, he felt at least a little better.

~8~

Sherlock remained silent and still, hearing Eurus come to the end of her tune, watching as she lowered her bow and the violin, but didn't turn to face him, all she did was ask a question that came through the speakers, "Did you bring it?"

"I'm sorry?" he asked.

"My hairband. Did you bring it like I asked?"

"I'm not one of the…I don't work here."

"My special hairband."

"I'm not one of your doctors."

"The one I made you steal, from Mummy," Eurus huffed, sounding remarkably annoyed as she finally turned to him, "It was the last thing I said to you, remember, the day they took me away."

"No," he shook his head, recalling what Leena had said about conversations with psychopaths, it is safest to turn the conversation back to them, not let it linger on you. Once it became personal, a person was in danger of revealing too much of themselves to be used and manipulated.

"No?"

"No, we've spoken since then. You came round to my flat a few weeks back, you pretended to be a woman called Faith Smith. We had chips."

"Does this mean you didn't bring my hairband?"

"How did you manage to get out of this place?" he got back on topic, "How did you do that?"

"Easy. Look at me."

"I am looking at you."

She tilted her head, observing him, "You can't see it, can you? You try and try but you just can't see, you can't look."

"See what?"

She held up the violin more, "What do you think?"

"Beautiful."

"You're not looking at it," she accused.

"I meant your playing."

"Oh, the music," she lowered the violin and looked at it, seemingly confused by the topic, "I never know if it's beautiful or not, only if it's right."

"Often they're the same thing."

"If they're not always the same thing, what's the point in beauty?" she looked back at him, and held the violin up once more, "Look at the violin."

Sherlock shook his head, "I need to know how you escaped."

"Look at the violin," she insisted.

Sherlock sighed but turned his attention to it instead of her, Leena had warned never take your eye off the psychopath, but if she was behind the glass, he assumed he was safe for the time being, "It's a Stradivarius."

"It's a gift."

"Who from?"

"Me," she walked across her room to a hatch set in the wall, a door opening on her side allowing her to place the object into it, which revolved around to his side the moment the door was closed.

He eyed her a moment when she moved back to the middle of the room and stared at him expectantly. He went over and picked up the violin and bow from the hatch, returning to his original spot as well, "Why?"

"You play, don't you?" she said simply.

"How did you know?"

"How did I know?" she repeated, "I taught you, don't you remember? How can you not remember that?"

"Eurus, I don't remember you at all," he repeated, tensing when she began to smile. He assumed Mycroft had informed her of that, or she'd gleamed it off of John not having any idea who 'Sherlock's secret brother' could be. He felt say stating it, if she already knew then it was nothing NEW to learn. But the smile, the way she seemed to take it as confirmation, worried him.

"Interesting. Mycroft told me you'd rewritten your memories, he didn't tell me you'd written me out completely."

"What do you mean, 'rewritten?'" he repeated. He knew he'd repressed some, erased them, clearly, but rewriting meant there was still something of the original there…he just had no idea what those original parts were.

Eurus seemed to read his expression, "You still don't know about Redbeard, do you?" she asked, before grinning slowly, "Oh. This is going to be such a good day."

Sherlock took a breath and schooled his expressions. Another warning from Leena, mind your emotional reactions around a psychopath, they will pick up on the subtlest things and appear as though reading your mind, using it against you.

He had to stay focused.

...it was just hard, because that woman in front of him wasn't just a psychopath but his sister and he still couldn't remember a thing about her.

~8~

"She smiles at you when you come home," Eurus continued to speak on the footage, nodding sharply, "Like a reflex."

"What's she doing?" John asked Leena as he came to stand beside her, noticing that peculiar quirk had happened before, "Why does she keep doing that?"

"She's confirming she's right," Leena assessed, "Whenever he reacts to what she says, she nods, files it away to use later."

"Everyone we sent in there…" the governor spoke behind them, to Mycroft, "It…it's hard to describe. It's…it's like she…"

"Recruited them," Mycroft finished.

"Smiling is advertising," Eurus spoke, "Smiling is happiness," and nodded at the end.

"Enslaved them," the governor corrected.

"She's been capable of that since she was five," Mycroft huffed, "She's an adult now. I warned you, I ordered you."

"She's clinically unique," the governor defended with a sigh, "We had to try."

"At what cost?"

"Happiness is a pop song," Eurus continued to identify, "Sadness is a poem."

"What cost?"

"And there," Leena murmured to John, "She's reciting what emotions she should display when those events come up, to better blend in with others, fool them into not noticing she doesn't actually feel lit."

John ran a hand down his face, shifting, uncomfortable. He knew sociopaths, Sherlock claimed to be one enough for him to have researched it, but this...this was on another level.

"Tell me the worst thing that has happened," Mycroft demanded of the governor.

"She kept suggesting to Doctor Taylor that he should kill his family," the govern said, causing John to spin around and gape at the man.

"And?" Mycroft prompted.

"He said it was like an earworm, couldn't get her out of his head."

"That's not what he's asking, and you know it," Leena called out, turning just enough to look over her shoulder at him for a moment, eyeing him closely, "Did he or did he not go home and kill his family?"

The governor swallowed hard, "He did," he rubbed his head, "And then himself."

"Are you going to cry?" Eurus's voice continued, "It's ok if you cry."

"I don't need to cry," the man on the footage defended.

"I can help you cry."

Leena shook her head, letting out a huff of air, they were in very big trouble, because the voice, the person speaking to Eurus…now that she wasn't looking at the footage and focused on Eurus, she could recognize who it was and it was not good.

~8~

"Play for me," Eurus called, nodding at the violin.

"I need to know how you got out of here," Sherlock insisted instead, being firm. He had to know, because if she was as much a threat as Mycroft feared…his entire family was in danger and he'd already sworn he would not allow anyone, anyone at all, to harm his family.

It was like Leena said, she wouldn't let anyone hurt her family, not even her family.

Another tip, since he had a personal connection to Eurus. Don't treat her like his sister, not yet at least, look at it from a very clinical lens, look at it as though she were any other psychopath, emotional ties and revealing them were what psychopaths thrived on and he was trying very hard not to allow himself to be manipulated into causing his family harm.

He feared he was failing though, because he looked at her and he saw a lonely woman, and he knew his brother locked her away, because of what she tried to do to HIM, and he felt like this was his fault. He could see something off about her, the detached way she spoke, how she didn't seem to really care about anything, but actually seeing her...it was harder and harder not to see this as the result of her isolation, as the result of HIM.

"You know already," Eurus countered, "Look at me. Look and play."

Sherlock had no qualms with the first part, he wasn't about to let the woman out of his sight if he could help it, so he lifted the violin and began to play Bach…

"No, not Bach," Eurus cut in with a sneering scoff after only a handful of notes, "You clearly don't understand it. Play you."

"Me?"

"You."

Sherlock paused to consider it, his mind going immediately to Leena, to Liberty, to the song he had composed for them both though he hadn't had a chance to play Liberty's to her and decided against it. He would not give Eurus more ammunition if he could help it. He may fail at not seeing her as his sister, but he wouldn't just put his family out there like that. He thought back to Leena's song though, before he had adapted it, when she had thought it was about Irene Adler, and felt that would be safest to use for now, a song he didn't care about thought to be for a woman he hardly noticed.

"Oh!" Eurus picked up on something about it though, "Have you had sex?" before she scoffed, "Well, of course you have, daddy."

"Why do you ask?" he eyed her, continuing to play, being very careful not to react to the fact that she knew about Liberty, for clearly she already knew about Leena. He was trying very hard to keep those emotional reactions under lock and key, not responding the way Eurus might hope at her prodding.

"I've had sex," she offered conversationally.

"How?"

"One of the nurses got careless. I liked it. Messy, though. People are so...breakable."

Sherlock filed that away, there was a way to get into the cell that nurses had access to…which meant there was a way out of the cell or a way to let her out. Which meant she either stole the access to get out or the nurse, someone in the facility LET her out.

"I take it he didn't consent," he remarked, testing her answer for whether it was stolen or released.

"He?"

"She?"

"Afraid I didn't notice in the heat of the moment and afterwards…" she shrugged, "Well, you couldn't really tell. Is that vibrato or is your hand shaking?"

He smirked, "Vibrato," he answered, lowering the violin smoothly, not a shake or tremor to be found, and he took a small amount of pride in how Eurus's lips quirked down, displeased with that and tried not to look at it as a brother irritating his little sister.

~8~

"I warned you explicitly!" Mycroft snapped as he stood from the desk, glowering down at the governor as he fell into one of the seats, "No one was to talk to her alone."

"YOU spoke to her," the man pointed out.

"I know what I'm doing!"

"You even brought her a visitor on Christmas Day."

"I took a calculated risk," Mycroft defended that quietly.

Lenna turned to face him, "What gift?" she asked, a pit forming in her stomach. The governor wouldn't have brought up this if it wasn't something that would cast blame on Mycroft or at least make the man feel less holier than thou.

"You gave her a Christmas present," the governor ignored her, focusing on Mycroft, "Remember her Christmas present?"

"I am aware of the dangers Eurus poses, and equipped to deal with them!" Mycroft said instead.

"What dangers?" John cut in.

Mycroft turned to him, "Eurus doesn't just talk to people. She…reprograms them. Anyone who spends time with her is automatically compromised."

"I'm only trying to help you," the footage continued, "We can help each other. Helping someone…" she nodded, "Is the best way you can help yourself."

"I don't trust you," the man off to the side stated.

Leena took a deep breath through her nose, "Compromised, you say?"

"Jesus!" John realized, "Sherlock's down there!"

"He's fine, John," Leena reassured him, turning back to watch the footage, "Unlike the 'smart one' over there, I actually prepped him. Psychopathy 101. And speaking of," she turned around once more to face them, "Do you know, what someone with actual training can do, when faced with a psychopath?" she looked at the men, "Listen," she said, her gaze turned to Mycroft, "Because Eurus isn't the only voice in this session," she reminded the man, "And whoever's evaluating her, is alone with her, and compromised…" before she turned her sights on the governor, "Aren't you, David?"

~8~

"So clearly you remember me," Sherlock surmised as he observed Eurus.

"I remember everything," she said, taking a step towards the glass, "Every single thing. You just need a big enough hard drive. Let's continue," she stopped two feet from the glass, "Did they tell you to keep three feet from the glass?"

"Yes."

"Be naughty. Step closer."

"Why?"

"Do it. Step closer."

"Tell me what you remember and I will."

Eurus considered that, "You, me, and Mycroft," she sighed at the memory, "Mycroft was quite clever. He could understand things if you went a bit slow but you…" she smiled at him, "You were my favorite."

Sherlock nodded and took a step towards the glass, seeing she'd accepted his quid pro quo offer, he stepped closer for each question she answered, "Why was I your favorite?"

"'Cause I could make you laugh," she said simply, taking a step to mimic his, "I loved it when you laughed. Once I made you laugh all night. I thought you were going to burst. I was so happy…" she eyed him as he took another step, "Then Mummy and Daddy had to stop me, of course."

"Why?"

She sighed, stepping closer, "Well, turns out I got it wrong. Apparently, you were screaming."

Sherlock kept his expression blank, "Why was I screaming?" but the look she gave him, as tough it should be obvious, told him the answer, "Redbeard," he eyed her, "I remember Redbeard."

"Do you, now?" she taunted, taking a step.

"Tell me what I don't know," he demanded, taking the final step to the edge of the glass.

Because he was getting it now, something about Redbeard was important, and he was missing something. Maybe if he knew what she had done to the dog...maybe it would tell him just how far gone her psychopathy had been as a child. Maybe this was her way of getting Mycroft to let her out. If she hadn't actually done anything to Redbeard...Mycroft would never believe her, but he WOULD believe Sherlock. Mycroft would also never believe him if Eurus just said it, HE would have to remember on his own.

He swallowed hard, trying to keep himself from getting too far into that thought, too emotionally invested in helping his sister. Mycroft would not have done all his, locked her away, if something truly bad hadn't happened to Redbeard, if she hadn't been a true threat to his life. He had to keep that in mind, his family was at risk.

"Touch the glass," she ordered instead.

~8~

"Oh my god," John breathed, staring at the director, getting what Leena meant even when Mycroft seemed slow to realize.

"You have no idea how I could help," Eurus's voice spoke behind them, "Bring me your wife. I want to meet her."

Leena held up a finger for silence, and the man's voice was clear through the room, matching the director's clearly, "I don't need your help."

~8~

Sherlock remained cautious even standing so near the glass, watching Eurus, "Redbeard was my dog. I know what happened to Redbeard."

Yes, he had to remember that. He could not allow him to believe something different happened than her drowning his pet. The moment he truly questioned her, doubted Mycroft, would be the moment he'd fallen for her manipulations.

"Oh, Sherlock, you know nothing," the condescension was evident in her voice, "Touch the glass, and I'll tell you the truth," she moved to lift her hand as well, "I'll touch it too, if you're scared."

Another tactic of the psychopath, wound your pride, make you feel as though you had to prove yourself.

Now he just had to decide if it was worth the risk to make her think she'd succeeded.

~8~

"I can fix her for you," Eurus's voice continued on the video, "And then I'll give you her straight back, good as new. I promise."

John turned towards the footage when the man's voice spoke again, "That's all? What you're proposing is not…it's not right."

He frowned, glaring at the director, "That's your voice, isn't it?"

Mycroft tensed, straightening, turning to the footage himself, Eurus speaking, "Do you really? Do you trust her?"

"You've got to stop saying these things," and there it was, it truly was the governor's voice.

"So you're compromised," Leena shook her head at the governor, "Which means Eurus is in charge of her own prison now."

The governor, now caught, leapt to his feet, "I'm sorry," he spoke, genuinely sounding upset, even as he grabbed a remote from his pocket, "Very, very sorry!" and pressed it, triggering an alarm to sound, armed guards running into the room, aiming their guns at the three of them.

Leena let out a sharp breath as they were forced to raise their arms in surrender, "Last time I'm ever trusting your word, Mycroft," she muttered, cursing herself. She had believed him when he said it was secure and that the best, most trusted men were in place to monitor the prison. She would have been looking for signs of Eurus's manipulations higher up had he just been honest with them about the extent of Eurus's sway and abilities from the start, if he hadn't been so sure and certain everything was in place and that Eurus had just manipulated someone on the outside to send her 'gifts' to 221B.

~8~

"You think it's a trick," Eurus deduced as she observed Sherlock's hesitation, "You look so…unsure. You're not used to being unsure, are you?"

"It's more common than you'd think," he remarked. She'd already seen it, gleamed it, denying it would make it worse. He just...wasn't as unsure as she might think him, or, at least, the reasons behind why he was unsure.

"Look at you," Eurus breathed, wiggling her fingers in a reminder of her request, "The man who sees through everything…is exactly the man who doesn't notice…"

Sherlock took a slow breath and began to lift his hand towards the glass. He knew a split second before he should have touched it that here was no glass. The human body radiated heat, even in the fingertips, his own had picked up on the encroaching heat and the lack of coolness one would feel off glass the nearer it got. So when Eurus not only touched his fingers with her own, but pushed them further to link their hands together, he was sure she meant her 'mock surprise' to be more taunting than it was.

"When there's nothing to see through," she finished, "Do you see how it was done? I know you like explanations."

A quick glance at the glass, at the etched warnings near the bottom told him how it was done. The glass had been cut away except for the area around the warnings, to keep them upright and fixed in place as though the rest of the glass was still there. One would see the warnings and automatically think the rest of the glass it was set in was still there, when it wasn't.

"Signs," he responded easily, "You suspended the signs."

"And my voice?" she smirked, it was still sounding through the speakers above, "Throat mic. Puts me through the speakers," there was a faint clicking noise, likely one of the guards on the outside turning the mic off for her so she could speak normally, "Don't you think it's clever? Simple but clever?"

"Transparent, really."

Eurus tilted her head, she had expected fear, shock, awe, but he was…just standing there. Well, that wasn't any fun at all.

"Well, you do keep asking me how I got out of here," she taunted, pulling her hand back, let's see if she couldn't inspire true fear, "Like this."

Without warning she slammed the heels of both hands against his temples, sending him falling backwards onto the floor before she leapt over the glass and landed on top of him. She screeched and shouted, alternating between strangling him with her hands and pressing her arm onto his throat.

"Get in here, all of you!" she called out to the guards beyond, knowing they would not enter or stop her unless she ordered them to. They were such good boys, so well trained, "Stop me killing him!"

On her command the doors opened and two guards rushed in to find her pinning his arms down with a hand and a foot, her other arm now firmly on his throat, choking him.

She smiled, looking up at them, "No, no," she changed her mind, "Stop me in a minute," before screaming in her brother's face as she waited for him to black out.

~8~

Leena glared at the guards as they led her, John, and Mycroft down the halls. While her arm had been fixed and begun healing, it was still very tender, but the guards had no concern for it, gripping both of hers to keep her from trying to get away. John, however, had much better luck, kicking the ankle of one man escorting him and using his release to headbutt the other. Mycroft tried to struggle his way out of the hold, using John's attack and escape to the stairs as a distraction, but he couldn't manage it.

While the guards holding her were looking to John, she stomped her one foot on the nearest guard's shoe and elbowed him in the nose with her good arm when he flinched forward. She spun away from him, towards the other guard trying to keep his grip on her and managed to grab his handgun from the holster at his waist, lifting it to his head, not needing to keep a grip on him to ensure he didn't move now that there was a weapon aimed at him.

She tensed though, when the alarm changed, and a very familiar voice, Moriarty, began to speak, "Red alert! Red alert! Big, bad, bouncy, red alert! Klingons attacking lower decks! Also, cowboys in black hats, and Darth Vader!"

"What?" she breathed, her gaze flickering to Mycroft, who appeared grim.

"Don't be alarmed! I'm here now! I'm here now! Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Miss me? Miss me? Miss me? Miss me? Miss me? Miss me?"

"Mycroft!" she snapped at him, but he could only look away. Her own gaze shot upwards, hearing a thump near the top of the stairs and hesitated. A moment later two guards were dragging John, unconscious, down them, the two he had taken down, now recovered, and turning their rifles on her.

She let out a huff, blowing a piece of hair that had fallen over her eye out of the way, before stepping back and lowering the gun, putting it on the ground and kicking it over to the guards. The one she'd tried to keep hostage merely turned and grabbed her bad arm even more tightly, jerking her to the side to lead her away with the others.

~8~

Leena let out a breath of relief when she saw John starting to blink away on the cot he'd been dumped on. Granted, she was more grateful Sherlock had woken before, giving her the fright he had. John had been knocked out with a knock to the head, Sherlock had nearly been strangled judging by the red marks across his neck. Oxygen deprivation could be even worse than a bump on the head. He'd woken though, to her delight, and had immediately pulled her into a tight hug, making sure she was alright while Mycroft looked after John for them, giving them a moment.

She was still in his arms, pressed to his chest, the confrontation with his sister seemed to have shaken him up somewhat, he was taking comfort in her being there. Because, truly, out of all of them, she was the one most equipped and best trained in identifying and engaging with a psychopath. Her tips and the advice she'd given him could only go so far for someone untrained as he was, no matter the impressiveness of his brain, and with the relation he had to the psychopath, the shock of her being his sister, he knew he hadn't managed as well as he would have if it had been anyone else. He would rather have her beside him, able to assist him handling Eurus than try to work it out on his own, they were a team.

He solved the crime and deduced the victim, she handled working out the criminal.

It was just…this was the first time the criminal was a member of his family. But he knew Leena could distance herself in such a situation, she would look at Eurus from the lens of 'psychopath' and 'unsub.'

"How are you, John?" Leena called over, drawing Sherlock's attention as he'd closed his eyes for a few minutes.

He winced as he sat up on the bed, reaching out to touch the back of his head as Mycroft stepped away to the other side of the room, "Bit of a lump."

"True dat," Sherlock joked, "But you have your uses."

Leena took a breath and pulled away from Sherlock, crossing her good arm across her bad one. The guards had yanked the sling off, apparently thinking it could be used as some sort of weapon, which left it feeling very tender and sore. She looked around at the cell, trying to spot a way out. According to Sherlock, Eurus's cell had the glass cut out so she could enter or go as she pleased, this cell, while similar in how he described it, had the glass in place, they were trapped. Her, Sherlock, John, Mycroft…and the governor, who was sitting on the other side of the room on the floor.

"Did you see your sister?" John asked, getting up.

"Yes," Sherlock nodded.

"How was that?"

"Family's always difficult."

"She tried to strangle him," Leena added.

"Apparently she was very cross I didn't bring her a hairband."

"Is this an occasion for banter?" Mycroft cut in, his lips pursed thin, not seeing the point in trying to make light of such a severely dangerous situation.

John opened his mouth to ask another question, when a ringing phone sounded over the speakers and changed course, "Are we phoning someone?"

"Apparently," Sherlock tensed, this was the first sound they'd heard since they all arrived in the cell.

"What's he doing here?" John nodded towards the governor.

"As he was told," Leena shrugged, "As I said, Eurus is in control. She wants him here, so he's here."

"Help me!" a voice suddenly called out, a little girl, clearly in distress, clearly scared, on the verge of tears, "Please, I'm on a plane and everyone's asleep! Help me!"

The lights of the cell turned red, and Moriarty's voice echoed above them, "Hello. My name's Jim Moriarty. Welcome…to the final problem."

"It's ok," Sherlock reassured them all when the lights turned white once more, "He's dead."

"He doesn't sound dead," John grumbled.

"It's a recording," Leena spoke, moments before the lights went red and Moriarty's voice said much the same, "This is a recorded announcement."

"Please say hullo to some very old friends of mine," Moriarty's voice continued, this time his face appearing on a monitor near the lift.

"Hello?" the little girls poke, "I can hear you talking. Please help me! I'm on a plane and it's going to crash!"

"What is this?" Mycroft snapped as the lights became white, "We can't do this!"

"Do shut up, dear," Sherlock huffed at him.

"Is someone there?" the little girl called.

"Is this supposed to be a game?" Mycroft continued.

"Be quiet," Sherlock ordered him.

"Please help me!" the girl shouted.

Leena reached out to touch Sherlock's arm, looking up as she spoke to the girl, "Hello, dear. Right, I need you to stay calm. What's your name, sweetheart?"

"I'm not supposed to tell my name to strangers."

"You're a very good girl then. Shall I tell you mine? We won't be strangers then…"

Before another word could be spoken there was a click, and static played out.

Leena frowned at the sound, the call had either cut off...or been cut off.

Across from them, on the other side of the glass, the monitor flickered, changing to show an image of pouring water before Eurus appeared, smiling at them, "Oh dear. We seem to have lost the connection."

"How have you done this?" Mycroft demanded, seeing the feed was live, that Eurus was sitting in the director's office, on a chair behind his desk, "How is any of this possible?"

"You put me in here, Mycroft," she nearly snapped, the smile falling from her face, "You brought me my treats."

"What treats?" John frowned at Mycroft.

"The footage," Leena surmised, "The recordings. Moriarty was younger than when we encountered him."

If Eurus wasn't allowed anything, as per Mycroft's own words, and Sherlock's assessment that she only had a violin…and she had access to this footage from so long ago…she had to have been given either the recordings…or Moriarty himself.

She knew Mycroft had basically sold out Sherlock by talking to Moriarty about the man, in order to get information from him…but he wouldn't do this…would he?

Eurus pouted on the screen and held out a button to the side, clicking it, turning the lights red in their cell as the image flickered to Moriarty, also bathed in a red light, "Clever Eurus! You go, girl!"

"How can that be Moriarty?" John turned to them when the lights turned normal. He wasn't asking how it was him, Leena had already said it was recordings, he meant…how had Eurus gotten them.

Mycroft just sent a glare to the director, who bowed his head, an admission that HE had given Eurus the footage.

"Hmm, Moriarty," Eurus hummed, "Loved it. Did you know his brother was a station master? I think he was always jealous."

"The girl," Sherlock cut in, "Where is she? Can we talk to her again?"

"Poor little thing," she pouted for a moment, "Alone in the sky in a great big plane with nowhere to land. But where in the world is she?"

Leena's eyes narrowed a moment at her phrasing, at the odd…tone in her voice, the briefest flicker of…something in Eurus's face, before it was gone.

"It's a clever little puzzle," Eurus continued, "If you want to apply yourself to it, I can reconnect you. But first…" she leaned back in the chair and swung to the side so they could see the balcony past her…where a woman was sitting there, tied to a chair, a gag across her mouth, struggling to get free.

The governor was on his feet at the sight, "That's my wife!" he scrambled over, "That's my wife! Oh, God, that's my wife!"

"She did ask you to bring her," Leena reminded him, "What did you think she would do with that sort of leverage? Invite her to tea?"

The man seemed horrified and completely startled, as though just realizing now the trap he'd fallen into, as though just realizing the danger he'd put his wife in by listening to Eurus.

"I'm going to shoot the governor's wife," Eurus stated, so simply it was as though she were saying she was just going to run down to the shop for some milk.

"Please, no," the director begged. He turned slightly, as though he wanted to speak to Sherlock but couldn't bring himself to look away, "Please. Help her!"

"In about a minute," she finished, turning back to the camera, and they could see the gun in her hand, "Bang. Dead!"

"Please don't do that," Sherlock spoke, just barely stopping himself from reaching out to take Leena's hand, not wanting to draw Eurus's attention to the other 'wife' in the room.

"Well, you can stop me."

"How?"

"There's a gun in the hatch. Take it," she pushed a button and the hatch spun so that the door opened to the room, and Sherlock moved to retrieve the pistol from inside it, "You want to save the governor's wife? Choose either Doctor Watson, dearest Leena, or Mycroft to kill the governor."

"Oh…oh God!" the director nearly seemed to collapse at the ultimatum.

Leena's jaw clenched, observing Eurus, the woman's blank expression, the way she'd said it, filing it away.

Sherlock didn't even cast a look around the room, he turned to the governor himself, clearly intent to take the burden on himself.

But Eurus noticed, "You can't do it, Sherlock. If you do it, it won't count. I'll kill her anyway. It has to be your brother, your wife, or your friend."

The governor turned to Mycroft, "You have to do this," but Mycroft shook his head, so he rounded on Sherlock, "Eurus will kill her."

She'll kill her no matter what, Leena couldn't help but think. Psychopaths, some thrived on causing pain, on creating tense and emotionally charged situations to observe and delight in. They liked to inflict pain, and not just physical but emotional, mental, too. By doing this…she would force one of them into murder, to save a life, a righteous reason, and then take it away by killing the man's wife, making it worthless.

She wanted to say it, warn them out loud about the very real possibility that nothing they did would save the woman…but she kept quiet. The director wouldn't believe her anyway, Eurus had already gotten to him, already convinced him in just this action that he had to die to save his wife. He would believe that to the bitter end, he wouldn't believe her if she said the woman would die anyway.

And she kept quiet because there was a chance, a CHANCE, that her initial belief was wrong and that Eurus was a type of psychopath that fixated on a demographic. She may have a skewed moral code that would prevent her from killing the woman because of some reason like her hair color or her gender…and this could be another psychological trap. Force them to kill when she wouldn't have harmed the man's wife in the first place and her declaring Eurus would kill her might cause a break and end the woman's life when it would have been safe.

How this went down, what Eurus did after, would tell her everything she needed to know about exactly what sort of psychopath Eurus Holmes was.

She looked up and tried to catch Sherlock's eye, to at least warn him that this was a trap, though she was sure he knew, but she would confirm it. Only he wasn't looking at her, in fact, he appeared to be doing his best not to look at her at all.

Ass.

If he thought ignoring her would protect her from Eurus's notice, they were going to have to have a long talk when this was over about how psychopaths functioned and exactly how observant they were as she'd already warned him, that Eurus would undoubtedly pick up on how much effort he was putting into not noticing her. There may be a quiz involved.

"Doesn't appear we have a choice," Sherlock remarked.

"Right then," Eurus smiled when Sherlock moved to Mycroft and held the gun out to him, "Countdown starting."

"How long?" Mycroft spoke.

"She won't tell you," Leena cut in, part of the heightened trauma for those who still thought there was a chance to save the wife.

She doubted there was an actual countdown, nor would there be until it appeared that her endgame was within sight. Eurus wanted the director dead, she would do all she could to make them think there was a time limit, when really she'd likely hold out till one of them actually did kill the man. And then she'd apply a countdown to ensure it happened.

"Ooh, she's a smarty pants," Eurus remarked, noting how Sherlock flinched, "The countdown is only for me. Withholding the precise deadline will apply the emotional pressure more evenly. Where possible, please give me an explicit verbal indication of your anxiety levels. I can't always read them from your behavior."

It was a few tense seconds of Mycroft looking at the gun in Sherlock's hand before he shook his head, "I can't do this," Sherlock could only give him an insistent look, "Can't. It's murder."

"This is not murder," the governor pleaded, "This is saving my wife."

"I'm particularly focused on internal conflicts," Eurus spoke from the monitor, watching them closely, "Where strategizing around a largely intuitive moral code appears to create a counter-intuitive result."

"I will not kill," Mycroft declared, "I will not have blood on my hands."

"Yes, very good," Eurus sighed, disappointed, "Thank you."

"Killing my wife is what you're doing!" the director accused.

But Mycroft would not be persuaded, backing away and shaking his head, "No."

Sherlock held his gaze a moment longer, before lowering the gun, "Ok, fine," and turned to offer it to John, Leena noting how his gaze dropped to the floor as he bypassed her to look up at John, "John."

John seemed startled, looking between the governor and Sherlock.

"Doctor Watson," the governor stepped forward, desperate, because each person Sherlock turned to who said no was another tick of the clock going down and his wife could die any moment, "Are you married?"

"Yes," John swallowed hard.

"If she was in danger," the man took another step forward, "What would you do to save her?" he gestured back at the screen, Eurus watching them, "Eurus will kill me. Please save my wife."

"There will, I'm afraid, be regular prompts to create an atmosphere of urgency," Eurus called, turning the lights red and bringing up Moriarty's image on the monitor once more.

"Tick tock," the image of the man began to repeat, "Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, tick…" Eurus turned the lights white, cutting off the image, before repeating the process over and over every few seconds, "Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tock, tick tock…"

Leena rolled her eyes at this, though she noticed the others growing more tense. She was especially disappointed in Mycroft for his reactions. Sherlock had just been through a shattering revelation, she expected him to struggle to keep it together somewhat. John was a soldier and a doctor, capable of maintaining his calm in the worst situations. The governor was already compromised. But Mycroft? He was the 'smart one,' he was the one prepared to 'handle' Eurus, he was the one who knew her and monitored her for years…and he wasn't seeing through this? Or perhaps he was, and him refusing was his way of trying to get the others to refuse as well and call a bluff of some sort...but she doubted it. He was clever enough to get that point across if that was his actual reason.

John, though, kept his eyes on the gun, flickering from it to the governor's pleading expression. His gaze turned to Leena for all of a split second, before he reached out to take the gun in his right hand, as though coming to terms with the fact that, by process of elimination, SHE would be the one who would have to kill the director if HE didn't. And he wouldn't put that on her.

He cleared his throat, looking away from the others and to the governor, "Your name's David?" he asked, just wanting to be sure.

"Yes," the governor spoke.

"And you're sure about this, David?" John eyed him critically.

"'Course I'm bloody sure."

Leena refrained from pointing out that any decisions made under duress were never 'sure.'

"Nearly there," Eurus taunted.

John hesitated, "Right. D'you want to…pray, or anything?"

It was clear to Sherlock and Leena that John desperately didn't want to do this. He was buying for time, the way Sherlock often did, hoping some other solution would arise, but, as trapped as they were, that was not likely to happen.

"With Eurus Holmes in the world, who the hell would I pray to?" the governor huffed.

John swallowed hard, "You are a good man, and you are doing a good thing."

"So are you."

"I'll spend the rest of my life telling myself that," John took a breath, watching as the man closed his eyes and stood there. He glanced at Sherlock, his eyes begging for any other way out of this, but a grim expression was all he needed to know there wasn't one. He turned back to the governor and raised the pistol at the man.

"Please!" the governor begged when seconds ticked by without a shot.

John's hand trembled, lowering slightly, before he took a breath and lifted it again…only for the governor to stop him with a hand raised, turning around to offer the back of his head. John clearly wasn't happy with any of this, but less so the idea of shooting anyone in the back. He took a moment, before lowering the gun and moving forward, putting a hand on the man's shoulder, startling him. He patted his shoulder and pushed a bit, motioning for the man to lower to his knees, still with his back to John. He glanced at the others, Sherlock and Leena grim, Mycroft turned away, and lifted the pistol to the back of the governor's neck, the pistol touching him.

"Oh, god," the governor sobbed a moment, trying to keep it together.

John couldn't bear that, stepping forward to put a hand on his shoulder, "I know that you're scared, but you should also be very proud."

"Just do it," the governor begged, "Be quick!"

John stepped back, aiming carefully with both hands, when the lights turned red and Moriarty was back on the screen, "Tick tick tick tick tick tick."

"This is very good, Doctor Watson," Eurus spoke, the lights resuming normal, "I should have fitted you with a cardiograph."

"Goodbye, David," John spoke, ignoring the woman, his hands trembling.

"Tock tock tock tock tock tock tock tick tick tick," the red light was back.

"Please!" the governor sobbed, the white light returned.

For one brief moment it looked as though John might do it…but he couldn't, lowering the gun and stepping back, "I can't," he looked at Sherlock and Leena, regretful, so, so sorry, because he knew what this would mean for the girl, "I'm sorry. I can't do it…"

He didn't even get a chance to offer the gun back to Sherlock, when the governor scrambled to his feet and grabbed it off him.

"Stop!" John cried out, holding his hands up, all of them backing away as the man turned the gun on them, "No, no, stop."

"David…" Leena tried to speak.

But the governor shook his head, "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Sherlock attempted to placate him.

"I'm so sorry," the man repeated, turning the pistol on himself, the muzzle under his chin, "Remember me."

They all cried out, trying to stop him, lunging forward, but they were too late, the man had taken his own life with one shot, spraying blood onto the glass behind him as his body fell to the ground.

Mycroft turned away, gagging at the sight, while Leena turned into Sherlock, her eyes clenched tightly closed. She had seen worse, in all her time helping Sherlock and the BAU, but she never wanted to witness it. No one did. Sherlock wound an arm around her, looking down at the sight of the fallen man helplessly, before his gaze turned to John as the man frowned down at it all.

"Are you alright?" he called to John, his hands clenched and unclenching, not looking alright at all.

"Interesting," Eurus commented, "He didn't even let the girl try," she remarked, humming to herself.

Sherlock glared at the monitor, "Alright, there you go. You got what you wanted…and he's dead."

"Dead or alive," Eurus spun in the chair a bit, "He really wasn't very interesting, but you four? You four were wonderful. Thank you," she leaned toward the screen, "You see, what you did, Doctor Watson specifically because of your moral code, because you don't want blood on your hands, two people are dead instead of one."

"Two people?" John frowned.

Leena took a breath and pulled away from Sherlock, "She didn't get what she wanted," she warned them, "It was one of the three of us, not the director himself."

"Ooh, I like her," Eurus laughed, turning in the chair to face the balcony, lifting the pistol to fire at it, before turning back, a single bullet hole in the glass and the director's wife slumped over, dead. She spun the chair back to them, "What advantage did your moral code grant you? Is it not, in the end, selfish to keep one's hands clean at the expense of another's life?"

"You're speaking as though you were going to let her live even if one of us shot him," Leena spoke up, seeing John getting angry, seeing him on the very edge of screaming at the woman, she couldn't afford to let the others get so emotional, not around a psychopath. It was too easy to manipulate people when they were emotional.

"What?" Sherlock looked at her, almost startled.

"Very good," Eurus complimented thought, tilting her head to eye her, "Are you a psychopath too? Hmm, the Sociopath and the Psychopath…"

Leena turned to them, more sure of the type of psychopath Eurus was now, "She was never going to let his wife live. If one of us shot him, it was because of our moral code and desire to save a life. She would have shot his wife anyway, because it would make having morals moot if the conclusion is the same."

The trio fell silent at her remark, stiffening at how…it made sense, and Eurus wasn't denying it. No matter what they did, if one of them had shot the governor or not, his wife would still have been killed. To make their righteousness pointless, to put blood on their hands no matter what.

Leena looked over at Mycroft, "YOU should have seen this coming, smart one," she jabbed at him.

She couldn't fault him choices he made in the past, not when he'd been a child himself, not when his uncle Rudy would have been more in charge. But as an adult? Old enough to know better? Resourceful enough to find specialists while Eurus was still young enough to be helped? She had to believe that there were people out there capable of speaking with Eurus and not being reprogrammed, not when Mycroft could do it, when she had been able to. They existed, and for Eurus to still be there the only conclusion she could draw was that Mycroft never had. For him to keep claiming he knew best, that he knew Eurus more than anyone, and to STILL not see THIS in her actions? He may be a brilliant man, but he was not a psychologist.

Mycroft swallowed hard and looked away, because she was right. Leena had only known of Eurus's existence for a handful of days, and had already profiled her correctly enough to know what the woman would do and how she'd act. HE had known Eurus her entire life, and he hadn't seen that ploy coming. He…god help him, still saw Eurus his sister, not Eurus the psychopath. And it had cost a man his life, his wife too, and likely would cost many more lives before this was over.

"This is an experiment," Eurus spoke, "There will be rigor. Sherlock, pick up the gun. It's your turn next," she waited, but Sherlock didn't move, just looked at the gun where the governor had dropped it, "When I tell you to use it, and I will, remember what happened this time."

"What if I don't want a gun?" Sherlock challenged.

"Oh, the gun is intended as a mercy."

"For whom?"

"You."

"How so?"

"If someone else had to die, would you really want to do it with your bare hands? It would waste valuable time."

Sherlock looked at the others, catching Leena's eyes, silently asking her thoughts, she nodded reluctantly and so he moved forward and picked it up. He pulled the clip out and frowned, "There's only one bullet left," he said, slipping it back into the gun.

"You will only need one. But you will need it," she pushed a button on the desk and a panel on the left wall opened, a narrow hall behind it, "Please, go through. There's a few tasks for you, and a girl on a plane is getting very, very scared."

Sherlock moved towards the door, glancing through it, before he turned to the others as they followed, "Treats?" he asked Mycroft.

"Yes," Mycroft sighed, "You know, a violin."

"In exchange for…"

"She's very clever."

"I'm beginning to agree with Leena," Sherlock said dryly, "You're not."

They glanced up when the lights turned red again, Moriarty appearing on the monitor, "Come on now! Aaaaaall aboard! Choo choo! Choo choo!"

Sherlock sighed, turning to step past the panel, Leena and John after him, Mycroft taking the back.

~8~

The next room they entered was smaller than the cell, very bare, very sparse and basic. It was four concrete walls, splattered with red paint like blood stains, with a wide three-paned window in the back and a single table in the middle.

"Someone's been redecorating," Sherlock mumbled as he looked around.

"Is that allowed?" John scoffed.

"John, she's taken over the prison," Leena reminded him, "I don't think the new management cares."

"We have more to worry about than her choice of color scheme," Sherlock agreed, spotting an envelope on the table.

"Barely dry," Mycroft touched the paint, "Recent."

"It's for our benefit," Sherlock glanced behind him when the door to the room slid shut and the monitor fixed to the middle of the back wall turned on.

"As a motivator to your continued cooperation, I'm now reconnecting you," Eurus appeared for but a moment, before she clicked her remote, changing the footage to Moriarty.

"Fasten your seatbelts!" the recording called, "It's gonna be a bumpy night."

A/N: So sorry this wasn't up yesterday :( Holidays and all :/ My family ended up doing Christmas on the 26th so the 25th was a lot of prep work and getting things ready and I didn't have much time to edit. Hope this chapter makes up for it though :)

Sherlock was complicated for me to write in this episode. I felt like so much of his initial insistence to meet Eurus in the show was based in 'she's my sister!' and his general confusion for why he can't remember her, then later about Redbeard when she brings him up. He seemed a little too quick to face her and not like he had a real plan for it. Here, with Leena, I think part of him was still that curious to meet this sister, but another part of him was more aware of how dangerous she could be and what really could have become of her by now after all that time in isolation. Leena, with her experience, has given him tools he needs, quick lessons, to notice when Eurus's psychopathy is coming out or she's trying to manipulate him. It takes a little of that curiosity away and adds more caution to it.

But she IS still his sister and he doesn't know how to handle finding out there's another one he doesn't know, so he struggles to balance the 'she's dangerous, I need to be careful' with the 'good god, she's my sister and she's genius' aspect.

His struggle to view her as purely another psychopath to deal with will, as we see near the end, come back to bite him, much like it will Mycroft too.

That was why I was so interested to add Leena to this episode. Mycroft, for as intelligent as he is, made some very big mistakes. Granted we can't know all that he may have done or tried to do to help Eurus in the past, or any evaluations or specialists he may have had brought in, but certain things he says puts Leena on edge about it all. To her, it comes across as though he orchestrated for Eurus to be removed from the family at a very young age and, from that point, she's basically been in isolation with the belief that she's too dangerous to truly have assessed and too far gone in her psychosis to help. Leena's perspective is that, for as smart as Mycroft is, he's NOT a psychologist, he's not a specialist, and for him to not use every resource available to him to TRY and help his sister is not only horrific but has led to this point. HIS choices are what's created Eurus as she is now, all that isolation and being locked away by her own brother :( She understands Mycroft wouldn't have much choice as a child, when Uncle Rudy got involved, but when he became an adult he should have done something different.

Again, he MIGHT have, he hasn't exactly told them everything, but because of that Leena only has her own assumptions to go on.

Once, a long time ago, Eurus might have been able to be helped and learned to adapt, because not every person who is diagnosed with psychopathy is 'evil' or 'criminal' or anything, they just go through life differently. But now that Mycroft has added in the isolation, the distrust, the lack of human interaction, that has all devolved and Eurus is now a danger to her family. Leena is going to use every aspect of her background and experience to help the Holmes brothers handle this :( So I'll really try to dip into Leena's thoughts and show how she comes to gleam certain things about Eurus or her plans, based on her own past and cases she's been involved in or kept on top of. For as much of a genius as Eurus is, there are some aspects of her developed psychosis that might be predictable to someone trained in psychology, psychopathy, and criminology the way Leena is ;)

This chapter and the next will explore what I feel is the psychology behind things Sherlock does, says, and thinks about Eurus and the situation. He may view the next set of events differently with someone psychologically qualified to make assessments of Eurus at his side who he trusts implicitly. He may see things differently when it's not just his friend or brother in danger but his WIFE, the mother of his child, who he nearly lost to one enemy before. But I'll really try to look into his mind and rationalize those changes and how he interprets the events or the reasons behind the things he does ;)

Some notes on reviews...

I don't think it's weird at all ;) I think, on a subconscious level, even Sherlock would be ok with that conclusion, to him Hamish probably would be the only boy he'd trust around his daughter ;)