Mycroft was extremely disappointed. Out of all the things that would piss him off, Sherlock running off with his laptop is definitely at the top of the list. He shouldn't have been as so stupid to bring it with him in the first place! But no, the government does not stop because it is Christmas. In fact, it is the most dangerous time of the year as everyone is having a winter break off in God knows where.

As the helicopter landed, Mycroft removed the helmet from his head and jumped out onto the lawn.

A few men ran ahead, guns held tightly in there hand. One of them signalled that all was in the clear and it was safe to advance. Magnussen , Sherlock and John were apparent

Why would Sherlock do this? That was the million pound question. Sherlock had shown his disgust with Magnussen from the start. To suddenly change his mind and to give him this information…it was unbelievable.

The soldiers sprinted into the house pounded up the steps when suddenly Mycroft heard gun shot.

Oh God! Sherlock!

Mycroft and the rest sprinted towards the noise. Images of Sherlock laying bloodied and dead flashed through his mind, sending shivers up his spine. Just like that day all those months ago when Sherlock faked his own death. For a few hours that day he actually believed it to be true, that is until Sherlock showed up at his doorstep and revealed the truth.

But for those few hours it was hell. For the first time he had to take a 'sick leave'. Once Mycroft got home, he collapsed on his bed, crying like he was six again. He thought his heart was cold and hollow, but for those few hours he felt an emptiness that he had never felt before. He buried his head under the pillow and pretended that he didn't exist.

That was the exact moment when a voice behind him spoke.

"Miss me already Mycroft?"

Mycroft nearly jumped twenty feet when he heard his dear brother. He turned his head in astonishment to see Sherlock smirking behind him. Mycroft would have believed him a ghost if for the fact that when he slapped him, his hand did hit solid flesh.

After a few minutes of chastising him, Mycroft pushed in for a hug. He swore that he would never let any serious harm come to him again.

Now Mycroft's heart broke like his promise. If it was Sherlock lying on that floor with Magnussen, or, let's be honest, Magnussen's bodyguards, holding the gun, Mycroft will break another promise and make sure Magnussen will lead a long and painful life. Death would be too quick for him.

You must have understood the shock that crossed his face when he saw who was actually holding the gun…

XXX

John was in a suspended state of semi-consciousness. He could only see a blurry background with his sole focus on Magnussen, with his gaping wound between his glassy eyes. His eyes were staring right back at him, with a half-smile that suggested that there still one last secret left untold, that there was one last joke played on him.

Magnussen's last words repeated over and over again in his head. It seems that you are the one mistaken.

Did it mean anything? Or was its Magnussen's last laugh, the final hold he had over his victims? Was it meant to drive John to insanity in trying to guess that last riddle Magnussen posed on him?

John squeezed his eyes shut. There were just too many thoughts running through his mind and it was making his head ache. While all of these thousands of thoughts about the past ran through his mind, he didn't quite contemplate what the future held. The future that was embarking up those steps that second.

Sherlock was fully aware of this development. He acted fast as he grabbed the gun out of John's limp hand. He spun around and pointed it at the first face that appeared on the staircase.

It was Mycroft.

XXX

The two brothers faced one another, guns cocked and raised.

"Sherlock," Mycroft said in a deadpan voice. He gave the signal to stand down his men. The all obeyed, dropping their guns, but still on full alert.

"Mycroft." Sherlock replied just as dry as his brother.

"I would ask what happened, but let's skip formalities. Why did you do it?"

Sherlock glanced to first Magnussen, then at his fiancé. He could not allow John to be the one blamed for this event. Sherlock was the one who got him into this trouble in the first place he should be the one to be punished. At least John might get off lightly, if he was lucky.

"Magnussen had some information that I wanted so I offered a trade. Your information for something about a friend"

Mycroft slammed his hand down on the counter. "You offered the secrets of the British Government in exchange for a little gossip! Sherlock, do you know what would have happened if he had it?"

"Well, you should know. You were protecting him." Sherlock retorted.

"Touché brother mine, but that doesn't excuse you from what you have done. What in God's name is so important that it made you go and steal that laptop."

Sherlock lowered his head. "All the information about Mary Watson."

Mycroft froze. He should have known that AGRA would pop up again sometime, especially when 'Mary' entered their lives. He never said anything because it was not his story to tell, but now in hindsight, he should have done something about it.

Mycroft looked up into Sherlock's eyes. "You are officially under arrest until the court says something different." He looked behind Sherlock to see John sprawled on the floor. "Come with us quietly, and I might be able to excuse John from any association of this."

Sherlock nodded as he dropped the gun on the floor. That was all he ever wanted, for John to be safe.

"We might, on second thoughts, need an ambulance instead of a van."

XXX

John was completely recovered by the time Sherlock was to leave England for his secret mission. He at least was allowed to see him off to wherever Mycroft was sending him to.

He was not originally happy about what Sherlock did. John insisted that his name was to be cleared and they both get the punishment dished out equally, but Sherlock told him that it wouldn't have resolved anything, instead making it worse in the end.

He and his ex-wife stood outside the plane waiting the final moment where Sherlock would embark on the flight.

John was feeling awkward next to Mary, not because the divorce papers went through quickly (so quickly in fact that he wouldn't be surprised that Mycroft didn't have a hand in it), but because he knew about her past fully.

John risked a glance. Mary was holding her bump and standing uncomfortably. Her face was drawn and pale, her eyes hand bags under them. She was looking over all sleep deprived. He would have thought that she would have felt safer that he was dead, but he secretly knew that she knew why he killed him.

John cleared his throat. "Uh Mary…"

"Yes?" Her voice had not a trace of emotion in it.

He turned around fully and faced her. "I know what happened."

Who would have known that a face would have gotten paler?

"What do you mean?"

"I mean all about what you had to do for Magnussen to keep your secret safe, our family safe and how it resulted in something unexpected." He glanced down at her belly.

Mary's eyes widened as the tears brimmed. "Oh God, John!" She exclaimed. "I am so sorry! I swear I was going to tell you! I do! I had to do it, I…"

"Shh it is alright." He chided, pulling her to his side, kissing her head. "It is not your fault. I know what he did to you and I know why you did it. I am sorry that you had to do it. If I had known that Magnussen got you pregnant, I would have pulled the trigger a long time ago."

Mary froze. "John what did you say?"

"I said I would have killed Magnussen a long time ago if I knew he got you pregnant." John said slowly, confused at the question.

"Oh God John, Magnussen didn't get me pregnant. It was Lord Ryan Blade."

Howzit Bokkies

I am not gonna lie, I did get very lazy towards the end, so excuse my terrible writing.

Just so you should know, I completely made up Lord Ryan Blade.

Probably the next chapter will be the last because I can tie this up neatly and painlessly.

Love from thecapefangirl.