Sherlock groaned, blinking groggily as he lifted his head from the smooth surface of the kitchen table, unable to remember what exactly had happened. John rushed in then, out of breath.

"S-Sherlock, thank God."

"John, what…" Sherlock drew himself short, looking down at something in his hand as John spoke hastily.

"I was talking with Mary and Sam, but I-I think she drugged us. She said something about Molly, but she told me that she's changed too much. I don't know what she meant, but she went to go fix it. She… also mentioned having to wait on getting married? But that can't be right, because you two aren't…"

Sherlock wasn't listening, his gaze steadily focused on the ring he'd gotten for Sam that now lay in his palm.

"Are you?" John questioned. "I mean, it's okay if you are. I've actually thought you'd do the whole boyfriend thing first, but then again, I can see the questions being brought up because of the age difference and—Hey!"

Sherlock got to his feet, stuffing the ring in his pocket and lifting his still-unconscious brother's head.

"It's gone."

"What's gone?"

"My brother's laptop. We have to get to Appledore, now."

"Appledore? Magnussen's place that you were talking about? But what does that have to do with—"

"She told us to wait until Christmas to make a move and I was planning one," Sherlock bit out, heading out the door hastily with John on his heels. "Sam's taken things into her own hands now, believing her foreknowledge to be faulty now do to too many deviances. She's going to try and sell out my brother to get Magnussen to give her everything he has on Mary."

"But… she'd be a criminal. Sherlock, she will go to prison!"

"Which is why we need to get there and stop her before she does something stupid. I just feel like there's something missing. This plan of hers is more like something I'd do. It's too reckless, not thought out. Sam looks at everything from every possible angle she can find, foreknowledge or no. This is running headfirst into the lion's den with a piece of meat in the hopes they'd leave you alone. No. I'm missing something. She has to have known what I would've done and has a different plan."

"Could she be expecting us to come after her?"

"My brother, parents and Mary are all still unconscious while we were only out a few minutes," he calculated. "Our dosages were less on purpose, so yes. The question is, why? She must have known we'd try to stop her."

They climbed into a cab and Sherlock gave the address.

"What if she didn't?"

He looked to John with a frown.

"I mean, what if she doesn't think we'd try and stop her? If what she knows has changed or is useless or whatever, then how could she know what we'd do at all? We might stop her, we might not. We could stand back and let it happen. We could stop her and do it ourselves. Could she… Could she really know what we're going to do?"

"I don't know," Sherlock breathed out, reaching into his pocket and fiddling with the ring. "But I'm not going to sit around and wait to find out."

"But what about Mary? Sherlock, we can't just go in there expecting to get whatever he has on Mary so easily. And if we stop Sam, that might be our only chance."

Sherlock raised a brow. "You want her to commit a crime to save Mary?"

"No! I just… what if that's the only way? To save Mary, someone has to give something up. Sam must know that. That must be why she ran off by herself. I just… I just don't know if I will want to stop her when we get there."

"No. We will save Mary and Sam. I'll ensure it."

I walked calmly over to where Magnussen was seated on a couch with his drink as he waved off the two guards who's come in with me.

"I'd offer you a drink, but it's very rare and expensive."

"Not interested," I muttered, not even bothering to sit as I glanced over my shoulder at the video image being projected onto the screen behind me.

I wasn't surprised to see Sherlock jumping into the bonfire from a while back.

"Hard to find a pressure point on Mr. Holmes," Magnussen hummed. "The drug thing I never believed for a moment, but look how he cares for you and John Watson. His damsels in distress." His gaze shifted to me. "Though, you hardly seem distressed. I assume you know how leverage works?"

"You want Mycroft, so you target his weak point, Sherlock. Sherlock's weak point is John and I so you target us. John's weak point is Mary, and mine—"

"Is your absentee brothers, your deceased boyfriend and your cat," he hummed. "Did you bury it?"

"Cremated," I bit out, doing what I could to keep from strangling the man in front of me.

"Ah. It was the only thing I could really get my hands on. Nothing to do with the boyfriend, seeing as he's already dead and your brothers wouldn't be worth much to you anymore after your little tiff at the airport." He sipped his drink. "Not that I have much sway in America though, so you're rather a challenge. I hadn't expected you to be the one offering me a deal on Mycroft Holmes."

"Yeah, well that was a lie," I huffed, setting the laptop down on the coffee table and moving to pour myself a drink—much to Magnussen's surprise.

He wasn't used to being on the other end of someone's arrogance.

"Excuse me?"

"Tell me, do you know Moriarty?"

He blinked slowly as I swirled the liquid in my glass, eyeing me. "I've heard of him and may have dealt with him once before."

Look at that. Show a little dominance and he folds like a cheap suit. This is why I went with Mary. I hadn't understood how someone with enough gall to piss in someone's fireplace turned into a sniveling mess when she walked through the door. He's just the little boy who knows it all and blackmails people into submission. No actual bite if he's got nothing on you.

"You see, he did something much similar to what you're doing with Sherlock and I. The threats to friends, the toying around like he owns the world." I downed my drink in one go enjoying the burn down the back of my throat and hoping it would keep me from thinking about my want for something stronger. "Thing was, he was willing to do more than blackmail. Torture's no fun, let me tell you. 'But why torture some nobody college kid?' you may ask, and the answer's simple. I know things. Things he hadn't expected. Things nobody would know about unless they'd been told directly from the source, and that's where you begin to have a problem, Magnussen. I knew it was you from day one. I knew about the bonfire, about your dirt on Mary and about Mary herself. I've known about 'Appledore' and your connections and I was content with letting you do whatever the hell you wanted so long as you stayed out of my way in the end. Adjust Mary's 'deadly' shot, keep Sherlock away for a bit longer than usual, then stop him from doing something stupid in the end. It was so easy, so simple. You could have had a free ride if you'd just taken Sherlock's offer in the beginning and you still would have been fine so long as I dealt with Sherlock at the end of this, but you went and did something stupid." I narrowed my eyes at him. "You killed my cat."

He looked confused. "I… had you thrown into a bonfire, blackmailed your friends, and you are going to stop me because of an animal?"

I sighed heavily, pacing now and dragging a hand down my face. "This. This is why you wouldn't get away with anything in America."

"What do you mean?"

"You messed with my pressure point, as you've done to many English people who probably just gave in, but you don't realize that I'm not like them. You mess with my pressure point and you've got hell to pay for."

He reached for Mycroft's laptop, placing a hand on it. "But I have what I want."

"Please. It's password protected and even if you were to try and take it, I'd be able to down you in a second."

"However, there's a GPS tracker within it, so Mr. Holmes is already on his way." Magnussen stood up, eyeing me. "But if you know about the vaults, what they really are, then how do you expect to explain this? You've just committed treason and there's nothing to show for it."

"Yeah, except there is." I pulled out my phone from my bra with a roll of my eyes. "Your guards are idiots and I've been able to record this whole thing. Oh! And let's not forget that I had a friend who happened to work at your business who has just received this recording and is currently at you competitor's building getting it printed up for quite a bit of money. How's your stock prices?"

"This doesn't change anything," he declared, grasping at straws. "You've still attempted to sell me government secrets."

"Yeah? Where's the proof? Have I once stated that I was selling it to you?"

He was slowly unraveling and I felt a hint of pride in my chest at having come up with this plan, having beat him all on my own with a few well-placed pieces on the chess board.

"Sucks being on the other side of that, doesn't it?" I mused, heading over and picking up the laptop, giving the man a small smirk. "You underestimated me. Most people do, but you should learn to dig deeper than just appearances, Magnussen. Now, if you do excuse me, I believe my ride is here."

Sherlock and John hurried in then, looking startled.

"Sam."

"Sam, you're all right!"

I shot John a look. "Course I'm all right. Did you think I was dead or something? Have a little faith, John."

John relaxed slightly, but Sherlock's eyes narrowed, knowing that something was still going on. And it still might happen. I need to make sure that nothing goes wrong. I've gotten this far. I've shut down Magnussen's empire, but even I know that doesn't end things. Not completely. All it would take is Magnussen to say something to someone and they believe him. If he drops names, ever, those people are in danger and he can't be allowed to walk free. I can only hope that Mycroft gets here soon. I let him in on what I was planning, so he should be able to arrest Magnussen now, but it's not much of a leap for Sherlock to come to the same conclusion I did. It won't take much for Sherlock to realize what he thinks needs to be done… Maybe I should have drugged him more instead of less, but if anything would have gone wrong just now, then I would have been left on my own. I scratched at the crook of my elbow before catching myself and stopping. No, stop worrying. There's no point in thinking of 'what ifs.'

"So, what's going on? D-Did you get what he has on Mary?"

I closed my eyes with a soft sigh, turning away from Magnussen for now and making to head inside. "I'll explain later, John. For right now, we just need to go."

"Go? But what about—"

"John." I grabbed his wrist, silencing him. "Just listen to me please. Trust that I know what I'm doing and that I wouldn't let anything happen to Mary."

He hesitated and I grit my teeth.

"Please."

Slowly, he nodded and I let him go, giving Sherlock a look.

"Mycroft should be here soon. I'll explain what I did afterward because it will take a while, but just know that he has no leverage now. There's nothing more he can do."

Sherlock stayed silent, but followed us out—Magnussen walking out with us, more than displeased.

"Well played, Miss Foxe."

I didn't respond, ignoring him as the sound of a helicopter grew closer.

"The Appledore vaults exist in my mind and nowhere else. They're not real. They never have been."

Something about the way he said that unnerved me.

"I see. You're not ordinary. No. You're me. You're me! Thank you. Sherlock Holmes… Thank you. Bless you."

I shook my head. No. Don't think of him. This has nothing to do with him. I took a deep breath and let it out, placing my hand in my pocket.

"As long as I'm alive, you can save your friends; you've got a way out."

The helicopter was within view now and Magnussen sighed.

"Well, I suppose this will be a little tougher to deal with, but no matter. I doubt they'll do anything more than have me in a decent witness protection program. I'm a valuable asset, after all. Knowledge has its uses."

"Well, good luck with that."

Police swarmed the premises and Mycroft spoke loudly over a megaphone as guns were aimed our way.

"Sherlock Holmes, John Watson and Sam Foxe. Stand away from that man."

"Here we go, Miss Foxe," Magnussen smiled sickly sweet.

"Sherlock Holmes, John Watson and Sam Foxe. Step away," Mycroft repeated as Magnussen shouted back with a grin on his face.

"It's fine! They're harmless!"

"Sherlock, what do we do?" John questioned as I grit my teeth, hand fisting around the cold metal.

"Nothing!" Magnussen practically laughed. "There's nothing to be done! Oh, I'm not a villain. I have no evil plan. I'm a businessman, acquiring assets. You lot happen to be some of them!" He looked to me, smirking. "And I'm sure you've realized it by now, Miss Foxe. There's no chance for you to be a hero. I'll still have everyone under my thumb with or without my publishing company. All it takes is someone willing to listen."

"Sherlock Holmes, John Watson and Sam Foxe. Stand away from that man. Do it now."

"I'm sorry," I breathed out and Sherlock took a step forward.

"Sam, what are you doing?"

"There's no other way."

"Of course, there is. There's always another way," he urged and I managed a bitter chuckle.

"You would've done the same."

I pulled the gun I'd pick-pocketed off John and turned, firing off a single shot right between Magnussen's eyes.

"She has information that we need," Mycroft remarked, facing a pane of glass as he looked down at London—a number of people seated behind him at tables.

"Information that you have yet to discover the origins of," one man argued, standing at his side and Mycroft resisted the urge to sigh.

These people we more than intolerable at times. Don't they understand how she could benefit us in the long run? Honestly, this is why I don't like being around goldfish.

"She will die before she reveals any information to us. This has already been proven when she was taken by Moriarty."

"So, imprisoning her is still the best option."

Mycroft felt a headache coming on. "She does, however, inform my brother of some details."

The man beside him frowned. "If this is some expression of sentiment…"

Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Don't be absurd. I am not given to outbursts of compassion, much less to someone holding that much information. She is determined though, I will give her that. And you know what happens when clever people become determined. Or need I remind you of the other Holmes."

The man grimaced, looking away as Mycroft turned his gaze back out the window.

"In any event, the Americans won't be pleased if she disappears under our detainment and handing her over to them is obviously out of the question. Any form of incarceration may well end up with her taking her own life as well and witness protection—though optimal—would only encourage my brother to take action. The alternative, however…" He looked over to Lady Smallwood behind him. "…would require your approval."

"Hardly merciful, Mr. Holmes," she remarked.

"Regrettably, Lady Smallwood, my potential sister-in-law is a murderer."

I stood beside Mycroft, hands cuffed behind me and eyes tired as a black car drove up to meet us in front of the plane that was going to take me off. Sherlock, John and Mary stepped out and Mary approached with a soft, pained smile—eyes full of tears.

"Please don't look at me like that, Mary," I begged, cracking a small smile myself. "You have to take care of the boys for me."

"Oh…" She reached up and kissed my cheek, hugging me as John and Sherlock waited behind her. "Don't worry. I'll keep them in trouble, though probably not as well as you would."

"I count on it," I managed and she stepped back to John before he stepped up.

"So, here we are," he muttered.

"Hope you've got a name ready for your kid," I cracked a smile. "Don't name it after me or Sherlock, please."

John smiled back. "I don't plan on it. We've had a scan. We're pretty sure it's a girl."

"Well, I won't spoil it for you."

His smile wobbled before he thrust his arms around my neck and I let out a grunt.

"Thank you," he breathed quietly, pulling away and attempting to put up his soldier mask.

With a small nod, he glanced to Sherlock and took a step back over to Mary as I sighed heavily.

"Idiot. I would have done anything to keep you safe," I murmured in return, unheard before I looked to Mycroft.

"Could I have a moment?"

Mycroft sent the security guy off and he, John and Mary walked further away to give Sherlock and I some privacy. Sherlock simply stood there in front of me for a moment in silence, though I could see the displeasure on his face as he eyed me. Shame welled up in my stomach, remembering what I'd done and how I was paying for it. All because of him. Of that stupid, greedy bastard. I lost my life because of him. I sighed.

"All this time I've been planning things to keep us safe. To keep me safe and look where it's got me," I bowed my head, bitterly. "One wrong calculation, one error and I just wasn't clever enough to figure out a way around it on the spot. Foreknowledge is useless when an unknown factor gets tossed into the mix, eh? Trying to be the hero never works out for anyone," I scoffed out a dark chuckle. "Sentiment really is a killer, isn't it?"

"Where is he sending you?"

I looked up at Sherlock, but had to turn away the moment I caught the blank, apathetic stare he was giving me.

"America," I lied, not wanting him to know where I was really being sent. "They can't technically keep me here, so probably some high security prison over there where they can keep my big mouth shut."

Never mind the fact that they're actually sending me to some dark hole in the middle of a foreign country where I'll be strapped down or in a straight jacket to prevent suicide while they make digs at me for information I'll never give. I resisted the urge to vomit at the thought, swallowing past the lump in my throat as my head began to swim. Time… What time is it again? How long have I been here? My arm's starting to itch again. I'll need more soon.

"Liar."

My attention focused back on Sherlock as I shifted my weight back and forth between my feet idly; trying to distract my thoughts from giving me away to the man in front of me. Liar? When did he say that? A minute ago? Seconds? Respond!

"Hm?"

Oh, clever response. Beautiful. Christ, it's a miracle I can hide anything from him for more than a minute with that sort of intelligent response… His coat collar is turned up. What does that mean again? Why do I want to giggle? Giggle! I bit my tongue. Don't you idiot! God, this is why you shouldn't have taken—

"You're lying," Sherlock repeated, taking a few steps closer as I resisted the urge to step back; though my legs didn't even twitch to do so. "They wouldn't give you up so easily. Your little mind trick prevents that, which begs the question; why are you trying to lie to me?"

Because. You're Sherlock Holmes. Clever clogs, lady killer, British television star Benedict Cumberbatch who goes around ripping young girls' hearts apart on a daily basis and—Wait, that's not right. What's going on again? What time is it?

"Because I don't want you to get hurt," I blurted out, unable to control my mouth and the words passing through it as my fingers bounced off my back in twitchy irritation.

The euphoria was beginning to wear off. Thoughts were coming back. No. I don't want to think about it. I don't want to think about leaving… Who am I leaving? Wasn't I getting married? No, that was John, wasn't it? Sherlock stepped closer and reached out. I looked down to see him holding out the wedding ring I'd left with him when I'd drugged him to run off on my own and my heart clenched. Me. I was getting married. H-He wanted to marry me and now I… Stop it. God, please. Don't show me that. Don't show me what I've ruined. I don't want to think about it. I don't want to think.

"We'll have to postpone the wedding until you get back, though I suspect that it might be a slightly bigger affair than expected. John knows now," he said, reaching up and putting the chain back around my neck and letting the ring swing down and bounce onto my chest.

I looked down at it, feeling tears well up. No, no, no, no, no. Stop it. Stop it! Stop making me think! P-Please. His finger moved under my chin and tipped my head up so I was staring into his clear blue-grey eyes.

"Sam…"

Please, stop.

"You're too clever for your own good, you know."

I-I can't keep doing this.

"Too kind-hearted and most definitely idiotic for the stunt you've pulled."

S-S-Stop. God, Sherlock, please.

"You have just saved Mary Watson's life."

Don't make me want to stay. I c-can't stay.

"Altered the way things were supposed to go just to keep us all safe."

Stop! You're going to break me. Can't you see what you're doing?

"You have proven to me what sentiment can do."

Y-You're making me regret everything! I can't regret anything! I can't regret saving you and taking your place! His hand brushed my face and a thumb wiped the tears falling down my cheek.

"You have changed Sherlock Holmes and saved everyone."

You're making me regret falling in love with you!

"I owe you my life and I will do everything in my power to bring you back home to Baker Street."

Why can't I do anything right? Why can't I just live?

"You are mine and I won't let you go now."

Lips pressed themselves against mine desperately and I closed my eyes with a choked sob wishing I could just wrap my arms around him and never let go. The kiss was too short. Time was running too quickly and I cursed the drugs in my system that had begun to make my bones ache and my skin itch; speeding up time just that much more. His forehead pressed lightly to mine as hid hands cradled my face.

"I care for you, Sam Foxe and I will bring you home."

Don't let them take me. Please… He stepped away and the guard from before returned, taking my arm and leading me into the plane as Sherlock stood aside with John and Mary. Mycroft stepped in and stared down at me, almost sympathetically.

"One last top-up, Miss Foxe?"

Please. Let me forget. I nodded slowly and he sighed, reaching into his coat and pulling out the needle, moving to my side.

"He won't be pleased."

I didn't care. "I'm dying anyway…"

Mycroft glanced up only briefly as my shaking slowed with the liquid drug, standing up and putting it away.

"I am sorry. I did try."

"I know," I murmured, my tears slowing as I leaned my head against the side of the plane to look out the small window; mind slowing as the drug took affect and left me numb. "I know."

"…Goodbye, Sam."

"Goodbye, Mycroft."

Sherlock stared at the space where the plane had flown off, unable to help feeling the tightness in his stomach and chest that he wished he could write off as a stomach ache from Mrs. Hudson's breakfast that morning.

"Sherlock, you okay?" John asked, having seen their goodbye and worried about how Sherlock was going to handle Sam's being sent off.

Though he was still trying to accept the fact that the two had somehow gotten into a relationship sometime during this whole mess with Magnussen.

"Why did she do something so reckless?" Sherlock murmured, and John shuffled on his feet, sparing Mary a glance.

"Because people who are in love do silly things to keep the ones they love safe."

"We're not in love," Sherlock grumbled, and John raised a brow.

"You proposed to her, she said yes, and I do believe you two just kissed."

Sherlock didn't spare him a glance. "We had an agreement that being sealed together by law would be mutually beneficial in ensuring that we are able to care for one another effectively."

John sighed. "Sherlock, she loves you."

Sherlock's jaw clenched tightly. "Well, that's hardly doing her any favors," he bit out with a growl.

John, sensing his friends frustration with the situation went to propose a way of getting Sam back, only for Mycroft to exit the car he'd just gotten into with a shout.

"That is simply not possible."

Sherlock finally looked away from the sky and eyed Mycroft. "What happened?"

Mycroft's eyes narrowed. "You're needed."

Sherlock scoffed, walking right past him, hands in his coat. "Shame. I don't work under duress."

"England needs you, Sherlock."

Sherlock whipped around with a snarl. "And the one person I care for has just been sent to her death because of me! So, tell me, Mycroft…" He stepped over to Mycroft, standing inches from his face. "How badly do they want me?"

Mycroft pursed his lips. "I'll make a call."

Mycroft walked away and John looked between the two in confusion.

"What's he doing? Why are you smiling?"

Sherlock's grin widened as his eyes stayed locked onto Mycroft's back. "Bringing her home, John. He's bringing Sam back."