He walks down the corridor. He has to be subtle, casual, to pretend. He raises his chin, the air of confidence surrounds him. His umbrella in one hand.

He reaches his father's office in the Manor. He walks in immediately.

"Shouldn't you knock?" Siger says, still looking at his files on the table. He doesn't want to call Siger his father anymore. Siger doesn't deserve the title. Especially not after what Siger and Violet did to his little brother. He will never forgive them. He hates the fact that he didn't experience the pain with his brother. Only Sherlock felt the hurrendous acts his parents did.

And hearing Sherlock's conversation with John when they were in his flat... It was a conversation he will never forget. He never knew how much Sherlock is willing to give for the people he loves.

"No." He replies. Siger looks up at him and smiles at him.

"Mycroft? What a pleasant surprise!" Siger stands up. He wants to punch Siger in the face too much but that's not like him. He can do something far worse than that.

"Not as pleasant as finally having a time to talk to you," he smiles at Siger.

"Do sit." Siger gestures to the seat in front of his desk. It feels odd to sit in front of the desk rather than sitting behind it.

"Sherlock is in rehab." He says.

"That's good... He can finally recover from his vice and come back home. God knows your mother and I worries..."

'Don't kill him. Don't kill him. Don't kill him.' He repeats in his head.

"He's leaving the facility in two days..."

"That's good..."

"I would like to ask how Sherlock has been when he lived here..."

"Why?"

"Just to know how much he changed..."

Siger nods, putting his hands on the desk... He could applaud at Siger's acting. He's good... He could have been convinced if it wasn't for the fact that he knows already.

"He doesn't as much, you know..." 'Maybe because you don't feed him.' "He kept locking himself in his room..." 'To hide from you, probably...' "He can be a bit clumsy but that's Sherlock for you..." 'You don't know anything about my brother. At all. How dare you do this kind of torture to my little brother.' "We always try to help him... We care about your brother's well being... Goodness knows your mother and I was worried when he suddenly left." He sees his father fake-stop-tearing-up. He wants to give this man a BAFTA. "And to find out he's been using those... those... drugs..." Siger fake-sighs. "We sis our best for you and him... Sometimes I worry that we were never good enough for Sherlock..."

"I'd say. You abused him since he was born..." He says calmly.

Siger blinks multiple times - a Holmes way of getting caught-off guard, surprise, guilt... After a while, Siger gives a horrified look, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he looks at the handle of his umbrella, as if they're talking about the weather. "You were never good enough for Sherlock. You were the worst."

"Mycroft... I don't-"

He glares at Siger and tells him, "Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't abuse Sherlock."

Siger looks at him in the eye, "I never abused Sherlock." He says with big sad eyes. As if he is hurt at the accusation.

He smiles murderously. "Oh Siger... What a good actor, you are..."

"Mycroft Holmes, I am your father and I shan't allow you to use my first name..."

"You're not my father... Not anymore... I will not have an abuser be my father..."

"I never hurt you."

"And Sherlock?"

"Never."

"If this continues on, my people will send you and Violet to my... place... and see to it that you will get what you deserve..."

Siger raises his chin and his posture changes. He squares his shoulder and his eyes turn solid. This. This is the man who isn't a kind, funny Holmes. This man is scary and murderous. This is the man Sherlock sees everyday. This is the man who abused his brother.

"I see," Siger stands up and circles him. "So... How did you find out, son?"

"I am not your son."

"Did Sherlock become a tattletale? An act of cowardice, is it?"

"He did not. If he did, it's not a cowardly act. It would have been brave of him to tell me of what horrors you did to him."

"Then how did you know?"

"I have my ways."

"We have no CCTV, reports of bruises and scars may have been told that Sherlock's bullies did that to him." Siger smiles, "How did you know it was us?"

"You carved Sherlock's back. Sherlock may have bullies, but I've seen all footage that they never carved him. I always watch him except in this house. It wasn't hard to put the pieces together."

"Oh but you wouldn't have believed it. You may have needed proof. Or a confirmation. Did she tell you?"

"Who?"

"Mycroft, I am your father and I can see when you lie. Don't act all innocent."

"Who are you talking about?"

"Watson."

"Watson? No. He didn't tell me. But I suspected he knew-"

"Lies."

"I don't lie."

"I am talking about Doctor Laura Audris Watson."

"John's mother?"

"Don't act all foolish, Mycroft. Have I not taught you well?"

"What matters is the fact that you abuse Sherlock."

"He deserves it. He is a defect of the Holmes blood. Look how you turned out. Professional. Successful. He? A drug addict. I will not tolerate such failures in the family."

"He's your son."

"We wanted a girl."

"He's your flesh and blood!"

Siger chuckles, "Not in our eyes."

"You will be punished for this."

"I won't."

"You will."

"I have a lot of people under my thumb, Mycroft. It will do no good for the country shall I be hidden in a basement under one of your... places. I assure you, your mother may pretend she has nothing but charms on her plate. But we are the heads of our organisation."

He gulps. This is exactly what he hates about his parents. They are still much more powerful than he is... They might kill people for their own satisfaction and for their own safety.

"It appears it is only right that you should leave my office, son."

"I will get you, father. And I will be successful to see you punished for your crimes."

"Good day, Mycroft."

"Siger," he leaves the room.

He hates them.

"He knows," he tells his wife through the phone.

"Who does?"

"Mycroft. He found out..."

"Oh dear... Well, there's not much that he can do..."

"That is what I told him..."

"Did he found out through-"

"It appears so.."

"So who's it going to be, Siger?"

"You may do the honours, Violet."

"A pleasure..." Violet hangs up and he smiles. He does love making his wife happy.

His fists are so clenched, the knuckles are white... He closes his eyes as he stops feeling what he is feeling... If this is how humanity feels like. He doesn't want them. But sometimes, he can't help but feel them.

"Sherlock... It's good to see that you're progressing well... But crying isn't an act of weakness. It is a way to let go of your emotions instead of keeping it all in. If you keep on compressing these emotions in your head, one day, it won't be able to be kept stable and flood out. By then, it will be a much worse feeling..."

"Is that what you felt?"

"Sherlock. Talking about me isn't goig to help. But yes, that's what I felt."

"I don't know what feelings feel like. I experience them but I don't understand them."

"A common flaw between people like us. It's time to start understanding and stop letting your ego prevent you from expressing these emotions."

"How?"

"I do not have all the answers, Sherlock. But you might want to start with talking with your friends about it..."

"I don't have friends... I've just got one..."

"So you say..." His psychiatrist smiles. "You'll be leaving us in two days, Sherlock. It's time you learn for yourself."

The session is over and he stands up, nods, and leaves and goes to his room.

For the past weeks, the facility actually helped him talk about his inner demons - demons he didn't know WERE demons until now. Dr. Harrison is good at what he does. He is observant like him. Which is probably why Mycroft chose him to be his psychiatrist.

He has been participating with the others. Why? So he would get out of here earlier. He can stop himself from taking drugs. He doesn't need a facility. He's only acting that he's recovering. He'll probably get some after leaving.

But his brain isn't as heavy as it did... Maybe he will be clean...

He walks in the facility, trying to find Sherlock. But it isn't hard. Sherlock runs to him immediately.

"John!" Sherlock yells.

They both sit on the sofas. "Hey, Sherl. Heard from Mycroft that you'll be leaving tomorrow."

"You heard right," Sherlock sighs, leaning on the sofa. "I can't wait to leave this hellhole."

He chuckles, "Why? You didn't like it here?"

Sherlock glares at him and he laughs. Sherlock then, laughs with him.

"So... A week since I came here... Anything happened here or?"

"Not much," Sherlock replies, "Been difficult with the people here... Took some cakes in the kitchen when no one is looking..."

"Not like you to steal food..."

"Clearly you haven't tasted it. Also, I don't have anything to occupy my mind, so it seems fine to let digestion slow me down."

"Yeah... I can see that..."

Sherlock isn't skinny anymore. He looks good... better... He looks healthier right now.

"Mary sends her love..." he says.

"How is Mary? Has she forced you to meet with her parents?" Sherlock says, mocking him.

"No. She doesn't need to. She was an orphan."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Sherlock's eyes moves along his body, deducing. Again. He rolls his eyes at this.

"You passed by James Moriarty."

"Yesterday, yeah."

"And what did he say?"

"Why do you think he said something to me?" He raises his brow.

"John..."

"He told me to give you this..." He searches through his pockets and hands Sherlock an envelope.

Sherlock practically snatched the envelope from his hands. He was so tempted to open it last night. But he knows it might be important so he didn't.

Sherlock checks the envelope. The hand-writing.

"A woman's hand-writing..." Sherlock whispers. "Fountain pen... hmm..." He opens the envelope and sniffs it. "Casmir..."

There, a small note is seen... Sherlock reads it with raised brows.

He looks at it and sees:

Soon.
JM x

Sherlock stares at it and pockets the note. He lies back on the sofa. "What does that mean?" he asks Sherlock.

"I have absolutely no idea."

"No. That's not true."

"Well, not absolutely. But besides the fact that it's a warning or a threat, I don't know. I don't like not knowing."

"Threat for what?"

"John. All we have is one word. I'm not a wizard."

"Soon. JM x..." he repeats. "Why does it have to be so vague and cryptic? Sherl, you always magnetise these kind of people..."

"Like you?" Sherlock raises his brow with a smirk.

He playfully punches Sherlock's arm. "You know what I mean..."

"Well... It can't be answered now. Not here in the facility. I'll investigate as soon as I get out..."

"Tomorrow..." He smiles at Sherlock.

Sherlock grins, "Tomorrow..."

He enters the car with Mycroft. As they drive away he yells in the car, "FINALLY!"

Mycroft scowls, "You don't have to be so loud, Sherlock."

He laughs and gives a look at Mycroft. "Oh please... I'm free, I can do whatever I want..."

"It's been two minutes since you left and I'm already having a migraine.."

He laughs, "Good thing I'm here to give you headaches..."

Mycroft sighs. Which means he wins this round.

"John told me he received a letter from James Moriarty two days ago..."

"Indeed..."

"I saw the footage. I assure you, he wasn't forced... Here..." Mycroft hands him a tablet and he switches it on.

He sees the footage in front of John's house.

There he is, all dressed up. 'Probably going on a date with Mary.' and he checks his phone.

There, Jim walks pass him and bumps him on the shoulder.

"Ahhh... John, just the person I want to see..." Jim says.

John looks up and has a massive scowl on his face. "What do you want, Moriarty?"

"Don't be aggressive, Johnny boy, I'm only here to talk..."

"Talk about what?"

"Your loyalty to Sherlock."

"And why do we need to talk about that?" 'Oh John. Always the brave soldier.'

"It appears that you hold a few people in your life and are very loyal to each and every one of them..." Jim smiles.

"So?"

"Who knows? Maybe you're being loyal to the wrong people... or believing the lies of those you are loyal to..."

He can see John's angry face and he steps closer to Jim. His voice goes lower and angrier. "No. I don't need you to tell me this. Sherlock is my friend. He may lie but he will always show the truth in the end..."

Jim laughs... "If you only knew what I'm talking about..."

He grows confused... What does Jim know? He never lied to John. Not now. John knows more about him now. He looks at Mycroft. Even he has a confused look on his face. They both know he isn't lying to anyone at the moment. So what does Jim mean?

"You better get out of here... I'm late for my date..." John walks away and looks at the street in front of him. Probably trying to hail a cab.

"Before you go... John..." Jim gets something from his coat, the envelope John gave him yesterday. "You might want to give this to Sherlock..."

John looks at Jim suspiciously. "What's in it?"

Jim laughs, "It's not a bomb. There's no poison on the envelope. Nothing deadly. Just a simple note..."

"What does it say?"

"I don't need to tell you, you'll find out either way..."

Jim raises his hand and a cab comes towards them.

"Seems your cab is here... Better go to Mary Elizabeth Morstan, John..."

"I will..." John enters the cab and it leaves.

Jim's eyes follow John's cab and smiles to himself. He looks at the CCTV camera, directly at them and winks. Then he walks away. The tablet goes blank.

He looks at Mycroft. "What the hell does that mean?"

"He probably knows I'm listening... It's probably a warning to us all..."

"What's he trying to tell us?"

"You're missing something, Sherlock..."

"What? I'm not..."

"Rewind what you heard and tell me what he said is off..."

He closes his eyes and tries to rethink everything. He listens to what Jim told John. Everything. He tries to see every detail. And then he gets it. "Mary Elizabeth Morstan..."

Mycroft raises his chin. "Indeed..."

"Mycroft, James Moriarty probably read about everyone and everything there is to link to me and you..."

"And yet he said her full name..."

"So?"

"Good gracious. Did that facility lower your IQ? James Moriarty never says anyone's full name unless he or she is within his presence..."

"Mary's probably at her house... John will meet her..."

"So... What do you deduce from that?"

"Moriarty's clues... Believing a lie... Being loyal to the wrong people... He's talking about Mary..."

"Indeed... The question is why?"

"Mary has a secret she will take to the grave. But what is it?"

"We have our people investigating..."

He looks at Mycroft, "But you already know..."

"Of course..."

"And you won't tell me..."

"I believe it is something you have to know for yourself..." Mycroft smiles at him...

He wants to punch Mycroft in the face. But he doesn't.

But he pushes everything in his mind for a while. He can't wait to see John again.

He can't believe it. He denies this. He doesn't want this to happen.

He can't. He can't breathe. This shouldn't happen.

How. How. HOW!

No. God no. Fuck. Jesus no.

'John. Be calm,' he tells himself. But he can't.

"I'm sorry, John," Mary says, rubbing his back.

He kneels on the floor... He can't talk much anymore... This can't happen...

He goes to John's house and knocks... Nothing.

He rings their doorbell... Still nothing...

"JOHN!" He yells as he impatiently knocks on the door.

He checks the door... The rug outside moved... The door is locked and the lights are off... More importantly, the curtains are shut. No one is home. They always close the curtains when they leave. How can he be so stupid. He laughs to himself.

He texts John.

'Where are you? SH'

Nothing.

Where's John?

He gets his phone and texts Mycroft's private number.

'Where's John? SH.'

'Wait. M.'

A few minutes later (Mycroft's getting slow.) He receives a text.

'Bart's Hospital.'

He thinks of the worst and practically runs to Bart's. He has seen the traffic - it's bad traffic... So he runs there and slams open the doors to the hospital.

He goes to the Reception and demands if there are John Watsons in there...

Someone taps his shoulder and he turns around to see Mary's face. The thought of Jim's voice and what he knows about her makes him suspicious of her. But he pushes it aside. John is first. John is always first.

"Sherlock, hi..." she smiles sadly.

"Where is he?" He asks.

"Upstairs... It's all right," she tells the Receptionist, "He's with me..."

He follows her to the elevator.

"I assume you and John has talked things through?" She asks.

"Indeed."

"You two okay with each other now?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"What happened?"

"From what I've heard, it will be hard on both of you. It's better if you found out yourself..."

The elevator doors open. Mary hugs him and he doesn't care about her secret. She is still Mary... Her secret can wait. He hugs her back.

They both walk through the corridor.

He sees John sitting on the seats in the waiting area, a haunted look in his eyes. He is looking at the wall opposite. He looks like he went through something traumatic.

Knowing John, he probably did.

"John?" He asks, sitting beside him.

John looks at him with dead eyes. "Sherlock?"

"What happened?"

"It's... it's..." John's voice cracks.

Mary sits beside John and holds his hand and whispers in his ear. John nods.

"I was walking... We were walking and... and... and talking... then... on the floor... and the ground... a shot... blood... I called Mary and an ambulance immediately... I thought you were still at Mycroft's so i didn't call you... but... but... it's too late..."

John chokes but tries hard not to cry. He may not be Sherlock but he also has his own ego.

"John, I don't understand."

"My mom's dead."