"This is getting ridiculous. The fact of the matter is, that door could have hit someone, and your men nearly barreled my daughter over rushing in like that!"

"We didn't have a choice. No one was answering."

"Well of course no one would answer. There's a murderer on the loose!"

"Weren't you aware we were coming? Did Mycroft not tell you?"

Mycroft approached and put a hand on his wife's shoulder. "If I could interject Inspector." The front door was off the hinges and splintered. No fixing it now. "My wife is a little shook up already and then your men broke down our mahogany door. Someone could have been hurt, and I'm not just talking about us. You had my number; you could have just called."

"I am sorry about the door Mycroft, however when nobody answered our knocking, we expected the worst, and busted the fucking door-" Lestrade cut himself off as Caroline ran in and grabbed Mycroft's leg.

"I thought I told you to go to bed?" Mary looked at Caroline sternly.

"Can you blame her?" Mycroft picked Caroline up and rested her on his hip. "There are officers searching the entire house. I wouldn't be able to sleep either." He kissed the top of her head and she giggled.

An officer approached and muttered something to Lestrade who nodded. "They found the camera in the dining room."

"You're looking for cameras?" Caroline turned in Mycroft's arms. "I just found one in my room this morning. Come see!" She struggled to get down and, with a nod from Mary, led the Chief Inspector upstairs.

Mary's face had gone white. "What kind of sick bastard puts a camera in a little girl's room?" She hugged herself tightly.

Mycroft noticed her distress and pulled her into a hug. "This one apparently, but don't worry. I promised to keep you both safe, and I intend to keep that promise. Just give me some time." Mary nodded and Mycroft rubbed her back gently.

A few minutes later, Lestrade and Caroline returned. Mary pulled away. "Well?"

Greg turned the small camera over in his hands. "It seems to be disabled."

"Well duh! I didn't want some creepo watching me while I slept." Caroline interjected.

Mycroft observed his daughter proudly. "That's my girl." Caroline beamed.

Lestrade handed the camera off to a passing officer and knelt down to look Caroline in the face. "Caroline, did you happen to find any others?"

"Just one, in the TV room, but I couldn't reach it. It's hidden above the mantle clock."

Lestrade nodded. "Hill!" he yelled, and a female officer ran in from the kitchen. "Check the TV room. Caroline here will show you where she saw one." He ushered Caroline off and stood to his full height again.

"Mycroft, look at this." Mycroft turned to face Sherlock and John. He suppressed a groan when he saw what Sherlock was holding, but took the phone anyway and read the message.

"You used to work with Moriarty?"

"I don't work with anyone Mye."

"What if it's not Jim?" Lestrade chimed in. "We already know he couldn't be the one texting Sherlock. So-"

Mycroft picked up on to what Greg was implying. "Is there someone you used to work with? Someone who could be impersonating Jim?"

"I guess I used to work with Sebastian Moran, but that was for one case years ago."

"What if this Sebastian was just using the –JM tag to throw us off?" Lestrade seemed excited by the possibility.

"I suppose that's possible. But even so, I'm not working with anyone. Unless…" Sherlock glanced to John who did a double-take and looked shocked and hurt.

"Don't look at me! I'm not doing it! Why would you even think that?"

"I'm sorry John. I didn't mean…" Sherlock sighed. "You know what, forget this for the moment. Let's focus on getting the girls safe."

Mycroft looked at Sherlock gratefully. "Thanks for thinking of my family Sherlock."

"Just the consequences of the predicament… I assure you." Sherlock turned away, effectively ending the conversation.

Mycroft shook his head, amused. "I'll go ahead and make the arrangements." He walked outside to call in a few favors. Whilst there, he remembered the car he'd carelessly left running in his dash to save his family. It was still in the driveway, and someone had turned it off. He made a mental note to find out who and thank them. When he returned to the sitting room, Mary was cuddling with Caroline and Sherlock sat on the couch beside John drumming his fingers on his leg.

Sherlock looked up. "Am I taking John with me, or is he staying here?"

"John is free to return to 221B with you. I'll send for you both when we're ready."

"Alright John let's go. I've had enough of my brother for one outing." Sherlock stood and offered a hand to John who took it and rose.

Mycroft adjusted his standing position to look more regal. "Good day Sherlock. Don't go chasing the killer on your own now."

"If John's safety is dependent on my lack of responsibility, then I will stay out of the way. But if there's something I can do to stop it, I will. I can assure you that."

"Just go."

"Fine." Sherlock walked past Mycroft and whispered, "Sorry about Father. Text me. I need it."

"No one knows that as much as I." Mycroft mumbled back, almost inaudibly

Before he left, Sherlock turned to face the girls. "Goodnight Mary. Caroline, Monster, Thing." Mycroft frowned at Sherlock's remark. "Oh, don't give me that look, Mycroft. All children are monsters. That's why I'll never get one."

"You'll never get one because you push everyone away." Mycroft smirked. "When was the last time you got laid?"

"I'm still here, he didn't push me-" John stopped speaking as Mycroft's comment sunk in. "-you know what I mean." Sherlock simply stared at John. "I willingly spend almost every living, breathing second with him."

"Strictly for business purposes."

Sherlock glared at Mycroft, "Come John. We're leaving now." He spun on his heel and left.

Mary released her daughter as soon as they two men had gone, "Caroline, bed." Caroline whined in protest. "It's late, and it seems as though Daddy has a big day planned for us tomorrow. Isn't that right Mycroft?"

"I do." Mycroft nodded then addressed Mary, "I think I'll send the rest of the officers home for the night. They can continue their search in the morning."

"Thank you Mycro." Mary gave Mycroft a quick kiss and led Caroline away.

Later that night, Mycroft lay in bed beside his sleeping wife, unable to find rest himself. Sherlock had stopped responding to his texts around midnight, but he couldn't stop his mind racing, working overtime to figure out what this Midnight Howler and the man with the viola case wanted with his family and Sherlock. Why put cameras in his home when it was Sherlock whom they desired? He sighed and kicked his feet over the side of the bed and into his slippers. He wasn't going to sleep anyway, may as well allow Mary some sleep without his constant tossing and turning. He grabbed his phone, stood, and exited the room. Upon unlocking the screen, he saw he'd missed a text from Lestrade about an hour ago.

Moriarty's gone. Be on high alert.
-Greg

"Shit." He mumbled and immediately called Sherlock.

The detective answered in a groggy voice. "What the hell do you want Mycroft? It's-" There was the sound of rustling as Sherlock pulled the phone away from his face, "-3:30 in the morning."

"I am sorry Sherlock, this is important."

Sherlock sighed. "Alright. Let me step out so I don't wake John."

"I see. So when did you make it official?"

"It's not like that!" Sherlock said defensively then lowered his voice. "We both decided it would be safer to take a hotel room for the night, since we don't know how we are being watched at our flat."

"Separate beds then?"

"Shut up Mycroft," Sherlock shot back, and Mycroft snorted. "So, why did you call me at this ungodly hour?"

"Lestrade messaged me. Jim is-"

Sherlock cut him off. "He's free, isn't he?"

"Yes." Mycroft yawned, but there was little likelihood of him sleeping now.

The phone buzzed on the other end. Sherlock breathed out deeply. "I just got another text from Jim."

"What does it say?"

"Give me a moment." Sherlock placed the call on hold. Mycroft sat back on the couch. Would this ever end? "Mycroft." Sherlock came back on suddenly, fear in his voice.

He sat up, wide awake now. "Sherlock. What's wrong?"

Sherlock read the text aloud.

"Look Sherlock,
I'm free!
Someone will die
If you don't find me
-JM"

"Was that all?"

"I need you to go to my flat and make sure Mrs. Hudson is safe." His voice was shaking, but he was clearly trying to steady it.

"Is everything alright?" Mycroft caught himself, "Of course it's not. You wouldn't ask me to help you otherwise. Alright. Is the key still in the flap under the steps?"

"No. John moved it. It's in the porch light now."

"Okay. Is there anything I need to know before I get there?"

Sherlock was silent for a moment before answering, signifying to Mycroft that he wasn't being totally honest. "No. It was just a picture of the flat. I'm overreacting. But please, check on her. For me. Just in case."

"Alright. But you owe me. The leg work…"

"You know you can use it. Sitting behind a desk all day, eating cake."

"The diet is fine. Thank you." Mycroft smiled then hung up the phone. He headed upstairs and threw on his civilian clothes before driving to 221B. He parked the car on the curb, pulled the key out of the light and walked up the steps to the front door. It's already open. He let himself in. "Hello? Mrs. Hudson. It's Mycroft. Sherlock sent me." No response. He shut the door behind him and was immediately grabbed.

"Well, well, well. Wrong Holmes. This will be quite fun."

Song: This is War - 30 Seconds to Mars