Well, people, this is it. This is the last chapter. I can't tell you how incredibly grateful I am that so many of you read this little story I thought of while working in the garden with my father. I have learned a lot (teachers do tend to look at you a little strangely if you can describe basic symptoms of different drugs...) and my writing style has improved so much, so, thank you.

For this chapter I have a song, once again. I don't know whether it fits that well, but I was listening to it while editing, so it did influenced this chapter a bit. Though it was combined with a Supernatural video... Well actually, there are two songs.
Get out alive by Three Days Grace and Just one yesterday by Fall Out Boy.

It's been an honour. Enjoy it while it lasts.

About six months after the funeral:

The sun is barely up, the weak rays of light are fighting against the shadows of the room and the twilight makes everything look unreal. It's not the first, and certainly not the last time Mycroft is up too early. He usually starts in five hours, but as always, the nightmares have stolen him the sleep. He likes to pretend that he doesn't have emotions, that he is not weakened by them, but in his heart he knows that he definitely is. If you can call it weakened, and in these early hours of the morning, he does.

The nightmares consist of memories of his time in the basement with his former PA, of feeling the knife slicing up the skin on his hands, arms and back, of the feeling of betrayal. He rubs his hands at this thought, tracing the fine white lines. Even though they remind him of Anthea and make him feel queasy, they are also a reminder of Kiara. Of the time after the basement, of the closeness they shared.

Mycroft was never in love with Kiara. It was closer to the love he feels for Sherlock. She had been there in the weeks following the basement, when the nightmares and panic-attacks had ripped through him and had shaken him to the core. The ability to delete and store away uncomfortable thoughts and memories had helped him through his whole life, but this deep betrayal was too hard, they had been there the whole time.

He sighs when he remembers the paranoia. The fact that he had not seen the real side of Anthea had made him lose his belief in his deduction skills.

He remembers the feeling of her. When they had lain in his room in his bed together, her arms around him, soothing him through the aftermath of the nightmares. It had been her idea, after she had ran more than twice a night into his room to wake him up.

He remembers her touching his shoulders, his face, hugging him, trying to fight his demons.

He remembers the time he thought her a traitor, after she had shot Sherlock, and the guilt he had felt when he realised his mistake and her life was teetering on the edge.

He also remembers the last time he has seen her alive. The video of her, standing in the middle of the room, blindfolded, trying to defend herself. How she had been beaten, until she stopped moving and the blood darkened her red hair. The words of her kidnapper are still in his head, as if he had seen the video only minutes ago: "You see, Iceman, we just want to show you how disillusioned you are. You aren't nearly as powerful as you think, if you can't even protect your friends. She'll be dead in eighteen hours, and there is nothing you can do to prevent it."

He had seen it not long ago, in fact. The scenes from the video are part of his nightmares as well, and once more he curses his photographic memory.

With a shake of his head he tries to get rid of the memories. Why should he think of them when they already haunt him in his dreams?

Four hours pass while he is working through files and readying himself for the day. It has nearly become a ritual for him; without a real PA it is much harder to do his job. Still, he isn't sure whether he will ever tell his new one who he really is. He trusts Melissandre. Not much, barely at all, but enough to let her work for him. To talk to her and let her help with the unimportant matters. Kiara had had a good taste in characters. Saving this girl from suicide had been a brilliant choice, even if she hadn't known what would happen then.

Melissandre arrives an hour early. She somehow seems to know he had a nightmare, just like the last time and the ones before.

She carries in a tray of sandwiches and tea and Mycroft has to fight the feeling of deja-vu. Anthea betrayed him nearly a year and a half ago, why is it still so hard? He should be able to block it out by now.

Melissandre knows what happened. Not exactly, but Kiara had filled her in, only the most important stuff. But she isn't stupid. She worked for Mycroft long enough to recognize the signs, to see when he is in danger of crashing.

"May I share it with you?" She asks after a moment of consideration, there is enough. Mycroft can only look at her for a moment.

"She told me you would do this. She was a clever girl, wasn't she?" Mycroft can hear the sadness in her voice, Kiara had been her friend as well. She had seen the video of Kiara and her kidnappers as well, had helped searching her, even if she hadn't known.

He can only nod, he doesn't trust his voice. When did he become so emotional? She puts down the tray on his desk, busies herself with pouring the tea, careful that her sleeves are up, and pretends not to notice that her boss is trying to repair his mask.

After a minute she has put out the two plates that somehow were on the tray, and given Mycroft his cup of tea, and they both sit in silence. Mycroft watches her sip her tea, slowly, obviously deep in thought.

After ten minutes, both are done. Melissandre puts the dishes on the tray without a word and stands up. She looks at Mycroft once more and nods, before leaving the room.

Mycroft stays in his seat and looks down on his hands for a moment, looking at the big scar on his left hand which annoys him so much, then gets up himself and leaves as well.

Two hours later, he comes inside again, followed by Melissandre, who carries some folders and tells him about a minor thing which she thinks is important, as soon as he is in his seat and looking at the first folder. When she finishes, she looks at her boss for a moment and can't help but smile fondly. Kiara had cared for him a lot, and she can see why. The incident this morning made clear how human the ice-man is in reality.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, she swallows once and leaves the room.

Two minutes later, a shadow comes out of the corner. The person is quiet and smiles at the man behind the desk, reading his exhaustion and sadness within seconds. Her smile mirrors the one Melissandre had only minutes ago, but with a tinge of sadness as well.

She comes to a stop and swallows once, and now, finally, the British Government notices her. He gasps, feeling unable to breathe, and looks over her face once, twice, three times.

"You should appreciate her more, you know," says Kiara.

The End.