Mycroft kneaded the steering wheel while he waited for the light to turn and peered at Sherlock and John's reflections. As long as he could remember, they'd been a team. And this fucking case… it could be a trick and John was perfectly safe, but no one wanted to take that chance. As he considered the possibility of turning around and taking John home, Sherlock's voice broke in. "Mycroft… you need to get home. Now." Fear. In the mirror, he saw John look over at Sherlock's phone. Another message?

A lump formed in his throat and he swallowed. "What does it say?"

"'I gave you a warning
to take my advice
but you didn't listen
Doesn't Mary look nice?
-JM'

There's a picture too. Mary's hurt." Sherlock replied, clearly weighing Mycroft's reaction through the mirror.

"You're messing with me right?" Mycroft's heart dropped and he swallowed again, willing Sherlock to flippantly agree. Payback for taking away John.

"He's not Mycroft. She's conscious but it looks like she was hit with a blunt object." John passed the phone to the front seat and Mycroft took it with a shaking hand. The photo showed Mary sitting at the kitchen table, a blood-soaked cloth pressed to her forehead.

"Mary… please oh god… please be okay!" The light turned green and Mycroft sped through the intersection and down the road, driving practice coming into play. He loved this car, but rarely got to fully utilize its capabilities whilst on London's busy streets.

"Be careful Mycroft!" John sat back and buckled his seatbelt swiftly. "We're in central London!"

"Shut up, John!" Mycroft turned onto a side street and reached a main road. Thankfully without incident, they arrived in the driveway of the Holmes mansion, Mycroft parked and leapt from the car, leaving the keys in the ignition as he raced to the door. It was locked. "Mary!" He banged on the door with a clenched fist.

"Where are your keys?" Sherlock asked as he ran up from behind with John in tow.

"In the car." Mycroft didn't have the patience to deal with Sherlock's ridicule right now and readied himself for his brother's snarky comeback, but John intervened before either brother could speak again.

"Oh, let me." John gave the door a swift kick and it opened. He pulled his gun out and entered, putting a hand back to let Mycroft and Sherlock know to hold.

Mycroft couldn't help it and yelled into the house in a panic. "Mary! Caroline! Where are you?" Mary turned the corner and rose her hands at the gun John instinctively pointed at her. "Mary! John, stand down!" Mycroft ran forward and hugged Mary close. She seemed flustered. "Did anyone come here? What happened to your head?" John slunk past him toward the kitchen, Sherlock following.

Mary pulled back from Mycroft's embrace. "I'm fine. Knocked over one of the statues in the garden. Pulled it over with the hose."

"You dunce." Mycroft put his hand tenderly on her cheek. "I was so worried…"

Mary laughed lightly. "I'm packing. You know I'd be safe if anyone showed up. Wasn't that the point?"

"Uncle Sherlock!" Caroline's little voice rose from the kitchen.

"We better go tell John…" Mycroft trailed off. Mary wasn't paying attention. He turned to see what she was looking at.

"The door." Mary said, eyeing the busted latch sadly.

"I'll take care of it." Mycroft gave Mary a swift kiss and ushered her off. He'd call someone to fix it in the morning, but for now, he used the bolt lock to keep the door shut. He followed Mary to the kitchen and sunk into one of the dining chairs. Caroline ran over and jumped into his lap. He smiled lightly. "Hi Baby." Caroline hugged his waist, and he returned the hug with one arm.

John entered the kitchen from the living room, holstering his gun. "Everything looks clear. Sorry to scare you Mary."

"No big deal. What was that about?"

Sherlock turned from his place at the window and handed his phone to Mary. She took it, read the message and her face turned dark. He repocketed it as he spoke. "We have to move them Mycroft. They're watching the house."

"I… I know." Mycroft leaned his head back onto the back of the chair and sighed deeply.

"Daddy! Guess what? I found the knives!" Mycroft looked down at his daughter's bright eyes and smiled. She always knew what to do to cheer him up.

"Good work, Sleuth! Where were they?"

"The cleaning room. I'll be right back!" She leapt from his lap and raced upstairs before he could stop her. When she returned, she held a piece of paper. "This was in her apron with them." She handed it to Mycroft, who read it, then stood and handed it to Sherlock.

'Side of the Angels
Silver plated knives
Go on, take a look
you can't save everybody's lives
-MidnightHowler'

"Take a look? Take a look where?" Sherlock looked up expectantly.

"I don't know." Mycroft rubbed his face discouraged.

John walked over and stood beside Sherlock. "What are you two going on about?" He quickly read the letter. "Sherlock, why are we here?"

"We're all in danger, John." Mycroft explained.

Sherlock ignored John's question, instead addressing Mycroft, "I'm taking him back to 221B. He's not any safer here."

"Safer from what? What's going on?" John stepped back, his body language demanding answers.

"John, I…" Sherlock looked between John and Mycroft before slumping against the nearest wall, head in hands.

With a sad look at Sherlock, Mycroft faced John. "Sherlock and the police department each got messages warning him off a case, threatening your safety if we don't comply. And now, apparently, they're threatening Mary's life as well. We're being watched, and we don't know how."

"Are you quite sure?" Mary piped up, hugging herself.

Mycroft nodded. "Yes, Mary. That picture they sent proves it."

Sherlock let out a small whimper, and everyone looks over. "Are you okay, Sherly?" Caroline asked, taking a step towards Sherlock who was rocking ever so slightly.

"Fine!" Sherlock looked up at Caroline so fiercely, John instinctively pulled her back.

"Let's leave Sherlock alone for a little while." He said gently.

"Sherlock!" Mycroft shouted and kneeled down to Caroline's level. "Come here, Care." She ran over and he picked her up, leading both his girls away. He glanced back once, intending to give his brother a word or two of comfort, but decided against it and left the room.

Sherlock felt John's hand on his shoulder but didn't look up. They sat in silence for a few minutes before John finally asked, "Sherlock, what's wrong? You've never acted this way before."

"I can't tell you John." The world felt like it was crashing around him. "Mycroft…I want Mye."

"Mye-? Okay. Stay here. I'll bring him back." Sherlock felt John stand and walk off. He didn't get far before meeting Mycroft.

'Yes. Just have them walk in. And for god's sake… leave Sherlock alone. Oh, John. Is everything okay with Sherlock?'

'He's asking for you.'

'Me? Alright. Go sit with Mary. The police are on their way.' Mycroft shuffled into the room and Sherlock finally looked up. His eyes blurred with tears.

"Mye…help me. I don't know what to do. Everything is crashing around me. I'm a danger to the one person I care about, and now, I've put your family in danger too."

Mycroft helped Sherlock to his feet and pulled him into a hug. "I wish I could tell you everything was going to be alright, but I don't know either."

Sherlock's chest shook with sobs as he fell into the hug. He hadn't relied on his brother like this in years. It was comforting. "I'll forget the case. You have the whole government to take care of it. Just… keep me far away from everyone. Especially John."

"Sherlock…"

"Just promise to keep me informed. I don't care if you lie. Tell me John is safe. Tell me everything is taken care of. Tell me I'm not a failure and that what I did was imperative. But take me away. Everyone would benefit."

"Sherlock, I- They want this. They want to break you, so you'll be out of the picture. They're trying to scare you off because they know they'd lose if you get involved. Without you, everyone would be in greater danger. We need you."

"You're not helping!"

"I'm sorry, I don't know what to say."

"Just focus on John and your family. Keep them safe. Call up your people or whatever and take them away. Hide them like with Irene."

"It's what they want. We can hide them, but they'd still find them. We can't run and we can't stand still. I'm just as lost as you, but we need you on this case."

"You saw what happened when I got involved Mye. This time was a warning. What will happen if I stay on? Caroline kidnapped? John poisoned? You…" Sherlock collapsed into sobs again.

Mycroft released the hug and put Sherlock at arm's length. "I hate seeing you like this Sherly. I don't know what I'm doing. Mummy was always better at it."

"You know me better than Mummy."

"Sherlock, I-" Mycroft sighed. "Come with me." Sherlock let Mycroft take his hand and pull him down the stairs to the sitting room. The lights were off and the whole room was much cooler than the sunlit dining room. Mycroft set Sherlock on the couch then moved to close all the curtains, shrouding the room in darkness. Sherlock pulled his knees to his chest while Mycroft grabbed a pillow and settled down next to him. "Close your eyes." Sherlock obliged and felt his brother pull his head down to the pillow in his lap.

"Look at me, my body's betraying me. I'm… scared…" Sherlock trembled from head to toe, but not due to the chill. He wanted it to stop.

"Hush. Just relax. It'll be alright. For now, concentrate on your breathing. Get your heartrate down."

"John can hardly manage that, but I'll give it a shot." Sherlock took a shaky breath in, but his mind was firing too fast to relax. "Talk to me. Make me stop thinking."

Mycroft contemplated what to say for a moment. "When we were younger, I used to watch you in the yard through my bedroom window. You had your little 'Mind Palace' box with all those silly trinkets. You would run around by yourself, fighting off imaginary enemies with your foam sword, yelling pirate insults at them. Once, you lost your hand in battle and made a makeshift hook out of chicken wire and a small box you found."

"I don't remember that." Sherlock looked up at Mycroft.

"Keep your eyes closed." Sherlock quickly shut his eyes like a child getting in trouble for peeking during prayer. "Anyway, you attempted to eat with it during dinner, but Father ripped it from you yelling, 'Why can't you be more civilized like Mycroft!?' It hurt to see you being picked on at my expense, but I was scared to disappoint Father and go against his wishes, so instead, I tried to look unconcerned and continue eating. You were clearly upset the rest of the meal but went right back to playing pirates after, giving your imaginary ship mates this intricate explanation of how you regrew your hand using your cheek cells mixed with some other things I can't recall. I would have laughed aloud at how you explained it, but Father was in the room next door and I was meant to be studying." Sherlock winced briefly as Mycroft's hand rested on top of his head. When he started stroking his hair like Mummy used to, he sighed and released tension in muscles he didn't realize he was flexing. "When it got dark, Mummy would call you inside and get you ready for bed. I would listen as she would sing to you, each night a different song. Then, one day, Father yelled at Mummy to stop singing you to sleep. 'Mycroft doesn't require it, why should Sherlock? A boy his age shouldn't need his mother at all.' I think I lost it. I ran out of my room into the hall and yelled at him. Needless to say, that was the last time I ever stood up for you. I went to school the next day practically purple from all the bruising. It was utterly degrading, let me tell you, but I had to explain to everyone that I ran into a wall. The teachers probably knew the truth, but Father was… influential."

"I remember yelling, but… you couldn't come up with a better story? One that was more believable?"

"That's what Father told me to say. I think he wanted to humiliate me." Sherlock shifted to find a more comfortable position and pulled Mycroft's hand to his face, indicating he wanted a massage. Mycroft snorted and began rubbing Sherlock's temples. The trembling came in waves now. "All the students would point and whisper. Few were brave enough to come up to me and demand to know what happened. But those that did would run off laughing to tell their on-looking friends. I punched one boy who pushed me into a wall yelling, 'Look! Mycroft Holmes got attacked by a wall again!' I got a call home and Father was furious. Mummy stayed with me through my suspension. That was about the time I really began to push everyone away."

"How old were you?"

"Twelve, I think. You were getting ready to go to school yourself. When I went back to school, the bruising had gone down. One girl came up to me during lunch and I yelled at her because I thought she was going to make fun of me. She didn't let it sway her. She persisted for the next few weeks. Usually, I ignored her, but didn't chase her off because I secretly enjoyed her company. Through the rest of primary and into secondary school, she chipped away my barrier until I was pretty social again. Then, one day Father found out I was spending more time with her than with my studies. He nipped that in the bud and sent me to a private school for boys. I cried for a week."

"What happened with the girl?" Sherlock propped himself onto his elbow to look Mycroft in the eyes.

"We tried to keep in touch. I managed to get her a note by sneaking out of the house, breaking into the school, and leaving it at her desk. For a while, we wrote letters, but she moved, and we lost contact. I don't even remember her name now."

"Was it not Mary? Didn't you know each other growing up?"

"No. Mary and I didn't grow close until my last year of secondary."

"Tell me more about the private school." Sherlock settled back and Mycroft resumed playing with his hair.

"It was totally different from public schooling. The classes were excruciatingly boring, the students acted totally different, the teachers were overly uptight, and the workload was unbearable. But, to avoid Father's wrath, I studied harder than ever. Consequently, I did well. Top of the class, adored by the teachers, however, I hated every minute of it. I wanted to be like the other boys, the ones stealing eggs from bird's nests and throwing them at people's houses, burning paper with a magnifying glass and tossing it into trash cans, chasing each other down with mud paddies. I tried to join them one day when Father was out of town, but I was shunned. They called me the Uptight Holmes Bat."

"You decide to prove them right? You're definitely uptight now."

"Eventually, I suppose but not right away. I just stayed inside."

"And did what? I always remember you being outside."

"Studied. Watched the boys play. Avoided Father. It's all I could do. When spring came, I started studying outside. I felt too trapped inside. There was a spot in the garden I would go to let out all my frustrations. You found me there once and I guess it had been a really bad day, because I let you have it. Mummy was furious."

"I'm sorry. I probably deserved it. I know I was a really hard child."

Mycroft chuckled softly. "Maybe a tad. But that didn't make it right."

"I forgive you."

"I…appreciate that." Sherlock breathed out as Mycroft continued. "Uptight Holmes Bat. That's what the neighbors called Father behind his back. Was I really becoming my father? I didn't want to be known as little William Holmes. I hated that man. So I tried being more social. However, everyone either already had their closed group of friends or their studies to worry about. Around that time, I did all my studying outdoors, rain or shine. Even bought myself a larger umbrella. That's when I met Mary. Her parents wanted her to go to school in Cambridge where we lived, so she stayed with her grandparents during the school year. They were social people and seemed to throw a lot of parties. This particular day, she was out playing badminton and a birdie flew over our fence. She'd climbed the tree to collect it and instead found me, holding it out. I must have looked ridiculous, staring up at her in my fancy clothes, an amused yet irritated look on my face and holding out a birdie, because she almost fell out of the tree with laughter. Over the next week, she would relax in the tree and watch me study, offering the occasional comment her and there. I mostly ignored her, but eventually, I found myself coming outside just to pretend to study so I could talk to her. She seemed to enjoy watching you show off your sword skills and her smile made my heart swell, so I didn't mind when you came out to play near us. She went back home to America for the summer but returned as school started back up.

The new school year showed no social improvements. I was still being shunned as some uptight prick, so I started carrying my umbrella everywhere to look the part. If they thought I was too uptight for them, I'd be too uptight. The only person I cared to talk to was Mary anyways. As soon as I got out of school, I was in the garden. The extra "studying" I was doing payed dividends because Father left me alone, and you became his main focus. Mary often asked if you could come out to play with us, but I insisted you would when you could, knowing full well you weren't allowed. Exams came and went, and I graduated, moved away to university to study business, and took a minor role in the government. I would visit Mummy at home as often as I could, always hoping to see Mary. Eventually, she and I got married and had Caroline. I bought us this house and now, here we are."

"I'm sorry Father was so mean to you."

"It's not a big deal. I got over it. I was more worried about you."

"Thank you." Mycroft looked down at Sherlock. His words had been barely audible. "For sticking up for me. All that time, I was feeling sorry for myself, thinking you were the Golden Child who didn't care about me. I did drugs to forget my troubles and cause you problems. I'm sorry."

"You couldn't have known about my troubles. I made sure of that."

Sherlock sat up and turned to face Mycroft. "I think I can face the world again, Mye."

There are pounding footsteps upstairs. "I almost forgot I called Greg."

"You called… He would be your best bet with my hands tied."

"I'm aware. I told them to leave you alone if you want to stay down here." Mycroft stood.

"It's fine." Sherlock stood carefully, unsure if his legs were ready to support him. He took Mycroft's offered arm and righted himself. "I'm okay. Let's go." They walk upstairs, Mycroft leading, and Sherlock moves immediately to John's side. "I'm sorry for my outburst earlier. Forgive me."

"Always." John smiled.

Sherlock looked over at the sound of yelling across the room to see Lestrade nose to nose with Mary. "Looks like Mary made a friend."

Mycroft sighed. "I better go clear it up. He may have touched…something or other." He walked off.

"They make friends so easily." John suppressed a laugh.

"It's a Holmes trait. Hard to explain."

"Will you fill me in on what's going on yet?"

"Again, John, forgive me, but the less you know right now, the better off you'll be. I'll explain everything in time." Sherlock watched Mycroft across the room. He put a hand on Mary's shoulder and Lestrade glanced up at the ceiling, clearly frustrated at something.

"Will you at least tell me why you had such a breakdown? Even at Baskerville, you didn't look like that."

Sherlock tore his gaze from the scene with Mycroft and Lestrade to look John in the eyes. They appeared bluer than normal today. Like a fading summer storm. It didn't make keeping secrets any easier. "Just 'untraceable notes received by the police department'."

"You expect me to believe that? I know you better than that Sherlock."

"I expect you to trust me like you always have. Even when I let you down."

"You've never let me down." John mumbles.

Sherlock's heart leapt and he couldn't help but flash a small, sad smile. "Just trust me John. You need to be far away from me while Mycroft works this out. You'll all be well taken care of and safe."

"But- "

"I don't want any arguments, please, John. Everything I've done since I've met you has been to keep you safe. Now is no different. Just listen to everything Mycroft has to say, and you'll be fine. You'll be fine." Sherlock's phone vibrated in his pocket and he subconsciously tensed his shoulders before pulling it out.

'Precautions now
While you've wasted my time?
I thought I could trust you
my partner in crime.
-JM'

Song: Only Human - Christina Perry