So here we are! :D Huge chapter this time, over 2.5k words :)
Just as a trigger warning: This contains a highly traumatic incident for Kiara, which is based on something that happened when she was younger - I hope it doesn't bother you too much...
We don't stop searching for Moran. But predominantly, we look for his deputy, a so-called James Maynard. He is clever, hiding his tracks, making quick moves, being unpredictable. It was pure luck Sherlock and Mycroft were quick enough to stop the attacks on Mrs Hudson and Lestrade – or rather, Mycroft's agents. I shiver when I remember how close it was, according to Mycroft; the last time I saw Lestrade he had been rather easy to get on with – even in the strained situation of me kidnapping him.
So we nearly can't believe our luck when we find a solid lead, pointing to a house in the west of London, marking his presence there for at least five days. The risk of it being a trap is huge. It's been ten days since I freed John and found out Moran has a deputy as well, ten days in which Maynard was ready to prepare for us.
But on the other hand, so did we. We spend the eleventh day checking the lead, but by the look of it, it's real.
It's unsettling though, that Maynard is not even mentioned in my network-app. There is no mention at all, even though there are, now knowing of Maynard, some things Moran just couldn't have done.
Still, it's enfuriating that it let us down so much – and that we didn't notice at all.
Mycroft says Dr Watson is fine. His ribs are, as suspected, just bruised, not cracked or broken, he had a minor concussion and his nose is broken – but it'll all heal in two months, top.
Apparently he did ask some uncomfortable questions, for example who saved him and why I suddenly started speaking German, but somehow Mycroft managed not to reply anything useful.
On the evening of the seventeenth of February, twelve days after our quick rescue-mission of Watson, we take off to Windsor. No agents are with us this time, we don't want too many people knowing what's going on – and besides, Sherlock still doesn't trust them.
Sherlock's POV:
The street they stop in already betrays what kind of house it is they will be entering – big, luxurious and posh, it's the part of town for the rich people – the really rich people.
Sherlock checks his gun, loading it again and putting ammonition in his pocket, and then puts it away. They still have about two-hundred metres to walk, not wanting to be seen stopping directly in front of Maynard's current location.
Kiara, of course, has got loads more with her – her gun and two more magazines in her pocket, her knife under her shirt and her needle with paralyser secured on her arm.
Mycroft walks behind them, about ten metres, looking like he has nothing to do with Sherlock and Kiara, who are walking close to each other and laughing. They're nearly at the house, and even though it isn't really inconspicious, but it might buy them some time.
Inside the house, at least from the back-entrance, the house is nothing like expected. White and bleak, empty rooms, dirty.
It feels more and more like a trap, but Sherlock can't see any sign of people in the house – none of them had been in these rooms for years. So what's going on?
The stairs leading up do look used. Often in the last few days, but cleaned so Sherlock can't see how many people went up and down there. At least it's wide and straight, so they aren't in a too vulnerable position.
Everything is more or less dark, the big windows let in grey light of dusk, and some lights are on.
Finally they reach a well-used door, light spills through the crack beneath the door, and voices are audible – two men. Their words are indiscernable though, the door is too thick and they are speaking decidedly too quiet.
Looking at each other, Sherlock sees the quiet resolution in Kiara's and Mycroft's faces. Knowing there is no other way in, he kicks open the door and barges in.
They come to a stop next to each other, Sherlock on the left, Kiara in the middle and Mycroft on the right. It's not hard to recognize Maynard, who just turned around – he doesn't look surprised, and he is smiling.
Maynard is not a very tall man, certainly not as tall as Sherlock or Mycroft, but taller than Kiara. His eyes bear a coldness that only very few criminals have, not doing what he's doing out of fun, but out of necessity and curiousity.
When Sherlock sees a movement out of the corner of his right eye, he is momentarily confused. What is Kiara doing?
But only when he turns his head he realises that Kiara isn't just supporting her gun with the other hand, accidentally lowering it. She is in fact lowering the gun, not even clicking the safety back on. Her face is ashen, her eyes wide with fear and she starts breathing quicker and quicker. It's strange, she never had this reaction before, even in an almost-certain-death situation, and Sherlock wonders what could have triggered it.
Maynard moves so quick even Sherlock and Mycroft are surprised, not being quick enough to turn. He grabs Kiara on the neck and walks her swiftly, forcefully backwards, slamming her against the wall. In the same moment ten men step out of the shadows into the room, pointing at them.
For once, Sherlock is really and actually surprised. This is completely out of his control, and he doesn't know what's going on – when Smith and Stone had tortured him, he at least knew the power dynamics.
"Drop the gun, little one." Maynards voice is soft, almost caring, if it weren't for the complete lack of passion.
And Kiara does. Slowly, and according to her face scared stiff, she loosens her grip on the handle until it falls clattering to the ground, luckily not going off despite the security not being on.
"I'm not afraid of you." She whispers, her voice breaking in the middle of the sentence, even for an outsider it is clear she has never been so afraid of anyone in her life.
"Then why did you drop it, darling?" He asks, moving very close to her ear and speaking so quietly Sherlock almost doesn't catch it.
"Remember the last time you said that." Kiara closes her eyes and shivers, almost choking back a sob, and Sherlock frowns.
He doesn't understand what is happening at all. How and why does Kiara know this man? Why is she so utterly terrified of him, making her obey even when she could have killed him so easily?
The tables have turned now, of course. Kiara is powerless, even if she still had her gun, and Sherlock and Mycroft both have their hands in the air. Now it's Maynard who is playing the game, who is obviously playing with Kiara's mind.
"Kia-" he starts, but without turning around, Maynard interrupts him, his voice now not soft at all.
"If either of you two speak or move at all, I will kill the girl and the politician, the detective will be incapacitated for Moran." Looking back into Kiara's face directly, he carries on, again using the soft tone which sounds even creepier. "You, however, my dear, may speak as much as you want – I remember our lovely little chats."
Kiara is still breathing way too shallow and has her eyes closed, and if Sherlock isn't mistaken, a tear is leaking down her cheek. What on earth happened to make her so scared? What did this man do to her, and why didn't Moriarty stop him?
"You do know that you won't get out this time, though? Big daddy isn't here anymore, little one. But maybe, maybe, I'm not going to kill you at all. I think I'd like to keep you..."
Gripping her neck tightly, he pulls her forward, and when she stumbles, onto her knees, rearranging his grip and pushes her face towards the ground.
Sherlock can't understand why she isn't resisting, why she lets herself be treated this way. He doesn't even use that much strength by the looks of it, she is definitely able to defeat him, if she wanted to.
The only sound is Kiara's unsteady, fearful breathing, her forehead nearly touching the ground, her hands not even balled to fists, her fingers shaking, until Maynard leans down to her ear.
"You can go, you know – if you can." He mocks, and Sherlock hopes she'll finally overcome her panic, and get up, knowing that he and Mycroft would be allowed to do so as well. But no, she keeps quiet and still, a tear dropping to the ground.
"You know, Moran only wants the detective. He'd like to get you as well, but I'm sure he'll make an exception for me – he knows you'll be in good hands, darling. And the politician? That woman, I think you called her Anthea? She said he doesn't scream, little one. Have you heard him scream, ever?" Kiara is shaking everywhere now, now and then Sherlock can hear the quiet sobs. Quickly looking over to Mycroft, he sees that his brother has paled as well, remembering that night in the basement and seeing the effect Maynard has on Kiara, the girl who despite her age shot people without hesitation, who had nearly died three times during their hunt for the network, who had so seldomly shown her problems so open, rather bottling them all up.
"It can be like it was. I want to know whether I can make the iceman scream. What do you think?" Maynard whispers, smiling in that empty, emotionless way. He is enjoying it, torturing Kiara like this, but there is no joy, no fun in his eyes at all, only curiousity, and Sherlock realises how dangerous the people Jim Moriarty surrounded himself and Kiara with.
Kiara's trembling slows down, even though her breathing doesn't, and she finally says something.
"No." Her voice is so quiet Sherlock needs to strain his ears to understand her, and when he looks at Mycroft, he can see the horror he feels himself in his brother's eyes, behind the mask.
"You will not harm us. I am not afraid of you." Her voice is croaky and breaking every few words, but there is a certain strength she didn't have before.
"Oh, really?" Maynard asks, curiously, and a man from behind Sherlock steps closer and touches the back of Sherlock's neck with his pistol.
"Yes!" The single word is nearly shouted, and Kiara sounds strong again for a moment. Pushing up against his hand on her neck, she twists to her side and kicks him in the solar plexus, knocking him back and winding him.
Without getting up, she stumbles backward to Sherlock and Mycroft, and when Maynard, having caught his breath, doesn't intervene, Sherlock bends down and pulls her up, holding onto her arms, worried she might fall down again if he didn't.
Her face is wet with tears, her eyes still wide open with fear, still breathing too quickly.
"Well done, little one." Maynard says and Kiara shudders, but doesn't reply.
To Sherlock's surprise, Maynard waves his hand and the men step back, all lowering their guns. The criminal himself takes up Kiara's dropped gun, gets up and unloads it and then hands it, handle first, to Kiara. She doesn't react at all, so Sherlock warily takes it and puts it in his pocket.
"As promised." He steps aside and clears the way to the door, but manages to touch Kiara's cheek once as they are walking past him.
"Until next time, little one."
Kiara flinches violently, and stumbles again, but somehow they make it out if the house and to the car.
The ride back home isn't much better, Kiara isn't sobbing any more, but the tears are still running down her face freely. Thomas keeps looking back over his shoulder, his concern obvious on his face, but there is nothing they can do. With a single look Mycroft and Sherlock agreed not to ask her anything now, just to get her home safely and if necessary give her sedatives.
It is slightly uncomfortable, as Kiara is holding on to Sherlock and not letting go, not even when they leave the room.
It is very worrying how out of her mind she still is. Still trembling, still there are tears coming from her eyes, she's still not talking and doesn't let go.
Finally they decide not to try and change her clothes while she's still awake. Mycroft gets a syringe with a light sedative and gets changed, then they try to inject her.
But, and Sherlock scolds himself for not predicting it, she won't let them. Twisting and moving away, once even hitting it, and she doesn't stop panicking.
"Kiara, look." Mycroft says calmly, keeping his voice not cold but warm, but not as soft as Maynards was. He also speaks a lot lower than usual, trying to make himself appear as different to the criminal as he can. Crouching down slowly, he shows the syringe clearly and waits until Kiara first looks at the needle, then at him.
"It's nothing bad, see?" Carefully slipping the needle into the vein, he injects himself slightly, immediately feeling the numbing effect, but he keeps it light. It's enough to show her what he intends to do. Only taking a few seconds, he changes the needle of the syringe, keeping it clearly visible all the time, and then looks up at Kiara.
"May I?" Slowly, carefully, she nods, and Mycroft injects her with the sedative.
Sherlock can feel when she is knocked out. Her body, already leaning heavily on him, suddenly becomes slack, making him stagger a step back, until he finds his balance again.
Inside Mycroft's bedroom, Mycroft takes off her hoodie and her shoes, leaving her in a top and her trousers, and pulls her into the bed, lying down slightly away from her and waiting for reaction.
After a few second she sluggishly reaches out and grips his shirt, pulling feebly, and comes closer to him.
Both of the Holmes-brothers look at their sleeping, exhausted friend and can't help but wonder what happened to make her so afraid. She is breathing a little deeper now, and the tears have stopped, but she is still trembling slightly.
When Sherlock leaves the room, turning the lights off and starting to shut the door, he hears Mycroft quiet voice behind him.
"Good night, Sherlock."
He turns around slowly, and looks at his brother, who is nearly invisible in the darkness.
"Good night, Mycroft."
And as the door slams shut, he hears Maynard's last words in his mind -
Until next time, little one.