Fully Alive

Chapter Fifteen

Vivienne looked up from her magazine when she heard Sherlock start to move around. His head turned to look around the room and she smiled when they locked eyes.

"Hey, sleepy head. You taking advantage of the morphine?" She laughed and stuck her magazine in her bag.

"They gave a drug addict a morphine pump. What did you expect?" Sherlock drawled, still trying to wake up from his drug-induced sleep.

"You were shot. You're in pain. I forgive you for taking advantage of medication simply because you survived." Vivienne leaned closer to the bed and reached for Sherlock's hand. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was shot. How do you think? Where's John?"

"I sent him home to get some sleep when I got here. He said you were a bit agitated before you took your little nap."

"Yes, well. Considering who shot me..." Sherlock trailed his sentence off.

"Who shot you?"

"I already told you-"

"Yes, I know. You told me you can't say anything. But that's bullshit. You almost died. You were in an operating room for hours and you're protecting the person who put you there."

"She wasn't aiming to kill. She would have hit my head or heart if she wanted to kill me." Sherlock said matter-of-factly.

"She?" Vivienne raised an eyebrow.

"If you would have let me speak, dear wife, all I was going to say was I've already told you. Yes, I said that I wouldn't say anything, but if you figure it out on your own, that's not my fault."

"And just how am I supposed to figure it out?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. "You can't tell me that after all these years, you haven't learned a thing from me."

Vivienne began to think hard about everything that had happened since Sherlock had made it to the hospital. She closed her eyes, reliving every moment. "Oh, my god." She whispered. "The first thing you said when you woke up after surgery."

Sherlock looked at her expectantly.

"Mary. But why? Why was she there in Magnussen's office?"

"I don't know." Sherlock replied. "But I intend to find out. Magnussen had dirt on her, obviously. But what, I don't know. She's a hell of a shot, though. I'll give her that."

"John will be devastated."

"I know." Sherlock sounded sad for his friend.

"What do we do?" Vivienne squeezed Sherlock's hand.

"Leave it to me. I'll handle it."

Vivienne only nodded. She stood up from her chair and say on the bed next to Sherlock. She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. "I love you. You'll do the right thing."

"I sure hope so."

Vivienne was sitting at the dining room table with Sherlock's parents having a nice chat when she started to feel funny. Right before she lost consciousness, she heard John and Sherlock come through the room.

"Did you just drug my pregnant wife?!" She heard John shout.

"Well, in all fairness, I drugged mine, as well."

And then there was nothing.

Vivienne awoke hours later, to see she wasn't the only one confused.

The sound of a helicopter overhead startled her. It was too close. She ran to the door and threw it open in time to see Sherlock, john, and Mycroft exiting the craft with grim looks on their faces.

"Oh, Sherlock. What did you do?" She asked as they got closer.

Sherlock said nothing. He just pulled his wife it to a tight embrace and sighed.

Vivienne took Sherlock's hand as he stood in front of her, saying goodbye once more.

"You sure you don't want to see the plane off?" Sherlock asked, trying to make eye contact.

"No. I can't." Vivienne swallowed thickly. "It should be easier this time, knowing for sure that I won't see you again. But it's not."

"Would you rather I spend the rest of my days in a prison?"

"At least I'd know where you were. Do you really have to go?"

"Yes. It's for the best." Sherlock reached out and put his finger under her chin. He lifted her head until she was forced to look in his eyes. "I love you."

"I love you."

Sherlock leaned down to kiss his wife one last time. "Goodbye, my love." He began walking to the door, but Vivienne's voice stopped him.

"Sherlock, I'm-" She paused. "I'm, uh, I'm gonna miss you."

"I'll miss you, as well." And with that, he was gone.

Sherlock took the cell phone from the flight attendant, having been told it's Mycroft.

"Hello, little brother. How's the exile going?"

"I've only been gone for four minutes."

"Well, I certainly hope you've learned your lesson. As it turns out, you're needed."

"Oh, for God's sake, make up your mind. Who needs me this time?"

"England." Mycroft replied simply.

A few minutes later, the plane stopped taxiing down the runway and Sherlock exited the aircraft.

"Vivienne. Have you tried to reach Vivienne?" Were the first words out of his mouth.

"No. She's at home. She should be fine."

Sherlock began to frantically search his pockets for his cell phone. "Call her. Now!"

John pulled out his phone while Sherlock looked for his own. "She's not picking up."

"Try again." Sherlock said frantically as he finally found his phone.

"Still no answer."

"We need to get to Baker Street."

Sherlock climbed into John's back seat as he dialed his wife. "Come on. Pick up. Pick up!" He punched the back of John's seat in frustration.

"Sherlock!" John yelled back at him.

"Sorry. I'm sorry."

"Sherlock, calm down. I'm sure she's fine." Mary said, trying to stay calm herself.

When they pulled up to 221b, Sherlock leaped out of the car before it came to a complete stop. He ran inside and up the stairs. When John and Mary made it inside, they found Sherlock standing silently in the living room.

"I've looked in every room. She's not here." He held up her phone. "This was in the kitchen. Next to a pot of water that had almost boiled away on the stove. I turned it off."

"Well, maybe she-" John began.

"She's gone. And she didn't leave her of her own volition. But," Sherlock took a good look around. Nothing was out of place. "she didn't put up a fight. Whoever it was snuck up on her, incapacitated her."

"We'll find her." Mary said reassuringly.

"Moriarty didn't do this himself." Sherlock stated, ignoring Mary. "No, he doesn't get his hands dirty. This was one of his men. John, call Lestrade, have him being the entire forensics team. No one is that good. No one leaves absolutely no evidence."

John pulled his phone out and dialed Lestrade.

"Moriarty doesn't get his hands dirty, but I guarantee you that wherever she is, he's there. He'll want to keep a personal eye on her."

"We'll find them both, Sherlock. Don't worry." Mary reached out and gave Sherlock a loving pat on the arm.

"Oh, I'm not. But he should be." Sherlock gave a chilling smile. "Because when I find him, I'm going to personally rip his throat out with my bare hands."

Mary shrugged, not at all frightened by Sherlock's admission. "Well, he deserves it. He shouldn't have kidnapped your wife." She smiled at Sherlock. "Don't let him go out quickly either. Long and painful."

"I planned on it." Sherlock winked, but developed a slightly worried look. "You know, I think, as I was leaving, she was going to tell me she was pregnant but changed her mind."

"Oh, Sherlock..." Mary whispered.

"I already knew, of course. I knew at my parent's house. I don't think she did, though."

"She'll be alright. They both will be. Moriarty'll keep her alive. She's not much use to him dead."

"One can only hope. Don't tell John?"

Mary pretended to zip her lips, lock them, and throw away the key. "Your secret is safe with me."

Just then, John entered the room, hanging up his phone. "They're on the way."

"Good. Let's take this bastard down once and for all."

Xxxxx