Author's Note: This will jump from perspective to perpective and for that I am sorry, but with the way the story goes, it kinda has to be like that or I can't get everything... But please do R&R! Enjoy!

Nine: And Suddenly Nothing Else Mattered

The lunch that Lestrade and Holmes had gathered for was full of conversation of work. Mycroft couldn't help it, and Gregory was working with them now, anyway. Plus, the fact that Gregory knew meant that Mycroft didn't have to pretend to be hunting for John.

Because Mycroft already knew where John was, and he may not be completely safe, but it's better than him not doing anything. Besides, if John was lounging at home with Sherlock, he'd be in mortal danger.

But where he was now, no one would find him unless it was needed.

John looked around the corner where the woman stood, just stood. He had a feeling she knew he was there, but when she looked back, she didn't find him. This woman was pretty, not beautiful or exceptional. But she was definitely pretty and John could see how she could charm a man with those hips.

Christ, John was almost hypnotized then and there. But then he remembered Sherlock's hips, and he was instantly okay. Well, not okay, but enough to resume silently checking his pistol. Even a Vampire would die from a bullet, and that was what assured him this would work.

He thanked Mycroft for being considerate of the fact that guns were loud, and this pistol was silent as the bullet soared past a few of the homeless and hit her in the back of the head. Some of the men looked to John and raised their brows, but he disappeared into the shadows and let her fall to the ground.

Two down, four to go… then he could be with Sherlock. Then all of this could be over and he could brush Aveen's hair again. He could tickle her senseless. God, they were such simple things, but he missed them already.

He knew Sherlock would be looking for him and he checked his phone and sent a text to Mycroft saying he was finished. Once John was in the car, Mycroft called, "Two already?" he didn't seem surprised, but Greg was.

John could hear his exclamation in the background and wondered why Gregory was with Mycroft. But he shoved the one little thought from his mind and answered, "Yes. But I assume not all of them will be this easy," it wasn't a question. He knew not all of them would be as stupid as the last two. as a matter of fact, he was working from the easiest to the most difficult.

Mycroft said it would help him not get ahead of himself. If they descended in difficulty, he wouldn't think right and he'd make the worst mistakes. "You really love him, don't you?" he asked. John was stunned, and he knew who the Holmes on the other line was talking about.

"Yes… why?" he answered slowly.

"You're just… you sacrafice much for him. As he did, and still does with you," he answered slowly as well. "He died for you and you practically did the same," he explained.

"That's what friends do," John said, nodding to confirm it.

"You're much more than friends, John, and even Gregory knows that," John heard the hum from the other line that had to be Greg.

"Right, well, I'm going back to base and getting a shower and then getting ready for the next-"

"No, you need rest. You go back to the house and you get some sleep. Be rational about this, Watson," and he hung up. John pursed his lips as he ended the call on his end. Interesting. John didn't think the elder Holmes would care if he dropped dead in the next second.

John was tired, but he felt like he couldn't sleep without Sherlock by his side. Maybe his body would do it for him, and he would finally get sleep in what had been the four days he hadn't gotten any. He yawned when he stepped out of the car and to the mansion he was used to by now.

He pushed open the door to be greeted by Anthea and he smiled and rushed to the bathroom. He wanted to wash himself and just fall asleep. He didn't think just the word sleep could make him need it so much. Just a few minutes ago, he was ready to just go get the next fucker he needed to kill.

"By the way, the body was taken care of," Anthea assured John as he simply grunted in response and continued his trek to the bathroom. He stripped and turned on the water and let it consume him as he thought about his detective.

It was almost impossible to not think about his lover. He almost fell asleep in the shower, but he was awake enough to wash himself, missing Sherlock's help. But he clambered out, dried himself, dressed loosely in sweats, and just went to the room he had temporarily claimed as his own.

His head hit the fluffy pillows and he wished Sherlock was here beside him, his voice in his ear as he told him he loved him. John didn't let the unwanted tears to fall. He swallowed them as he fell into unconsciousness.

o0o0o0o

John woke with a start. He wasn't sure what he had been dreaming about but he knew it was something horrible. He was sweating and he had a few tears. But he was glad he couldn't remember. Obviously it was terrible.

He looked out the window, still daylight. Either he had only slept a few hours, or he had slept through the rest of the day and the night. He picked his mobile from the nightstand, and sure enough, he was more tired than he had known.

He had slept through the rest of yesterday and that night. Damn. Then his phone was vibrating in his hand and he answered, "Yes?" he sighed.

"Ready for the next one?" Mycroft asked, already knowing the answer.

John nodded and swallowed down his emotions and put his soldier face on, "Spill it," he said, Mycroft feeding him information as he dressed. This one proved to be interesting.

This man was high in power, and was one of Mycroft's men. It intrigued John that he wouldn't just slap his wrists and tell him to avoid Eve or lose his job. But apparently Mycroft is more harsh than John thought. But somehow, it also didn't surprise John that he would take the easiest way out.

He completed dressing and ran down the stairs and followed Mycroft's instructions. This one was within walking distance, obviously. But it was outside because this man was out in the garden. Stalker…

Anyway, John figured he'd be able to just waltz in there, but Mycroft told him to keep a low profile. He said that this man was trained by the best, after all. John also didn't doubt for one second that Mycroft's men weren't the best.

He had seen his men at work, and they were brilliant. Not as brilliant as the Holmes themselves, but it was amazing to see them buzzing about and running to different monitors when needed. They reminded him of Sherlock, and how he could never keep up with him.

No, he shook his head. Sherlock comes later. It sounds so harsh, but it needs to be. he felt the back of his trousers for the gun he had tucked there, and he was assured he would do this…

Mary was cuddled into Eve as they sat on the couch and enjoyed the shittiest telly anyone had ever shown Mary, but she didn't care. As long as she wasn't alone watching it, she was happy to sit here and let Eve stare at her curiously.

"You're beautiful," Eve brushed a piece of hair from her face and Mary blushed looking at her lap. John never gave her random compliments. Sure, when she was sad or angry, he would fix it, but he never just spit out compliments like Eve does. Probably does with Sherlock…

"As are you," Mary complimented back and Eve smiled sweetly.

"I know I am, but you obviously don't know you are. Your hair and your eyes and your nose," she booped Mary's nose and she giggled. God, she's never had this feeling for a woman before. Was it even supposed to happen? She didn't know, all she knew was that she was falling, fast and hard.

She didn't even know why she was falling for Eve, she just knew she was. Maybe it was Eve's eyes that captivated her, being the jades they are. Or maybe it was her fluffy lips that just needed kissing, or maybe it was her surprisingly long hair, reaching her hips easily. Or maybe it was the fact that her bangs hid half of her face and Mary could easily reach out and brush them back.

She didn't know, or maybe it was all of those things. She barely knew Eve and already the butterflies in her stomach were prominent. And it definitely wasn't the baby. She snuggled into Eve's neck as her arm was around Mary's shoulders.

The television droned on as Eve's eyes couldn't look away from Mary. She knew this was a bad idea, that her heart may be broken one day, but Mary and Eve had this weird connection. Mary knew exactly when to look up at her and Eve knew exactly when to lean in closer.

They were so in sync that no one knew who had kissed who, all they knew was that their lips were moving against one another's and they couldn't stop, didn't plan to for a while. Eve's tongue flicked over Mary's lovely bottom lip and Mary let out a moan as their tongues joined.

Then Mary needed air. And Eve realized she, too was panting. That was too hot for either of them to breath in. Eve smiled with her mouth open and Mary left a kiss on her cheek. Eve, for the first time, blushed.

She had never had a kiss elsewhere. She always had been lusted after instead of loved. She loved other people, yes, but that doesn't mean they loved her back. Mary buried her face in the other woman's neck.

She couldn't believe how good that felt. Her chest was still pounding when Eve drug Mary to her bedroom. "This is very sudden," she blushed as she followed Eve. It's only been five days…

"I agree, but will that stop me?" she asked, and answered her own question, "Not a chance," she grinned and pulled Mary into another kiss as the bedroom door w

as opened.

Sherlock paced furiously while Aveen watched his movements. Then she had the sudden urge to ask, "When was the last time you fed?"

Sherlock was stunned by her question, "A while. It doesn't matter, finding John matters," he declared and went back to making marks from his repeated pacing on the carpet in front of the fireplace.

"No, Dad, you need to drink. It's just as important as me eating," she explained. She knew very little, but she knew he had to drink sometime.

Sherlock sighed, "And where will I get blood from, hm?" he asked, trying to let his thoughts take him back.

"Mycroft can give you some. He seems to have everything, including annoyance," she said and she giggled when she saw him smile slightly.

"Fair enough. I guess I could try to give him a call," he admitted. Aveen beamed as he pulled out his cell. She was right, Mycroft did have blood. He said he'd have some over as soon as possible. Mycroft knew this would happen. John wouldn't be here and he'd have to feed the whiney prat.

Sherlock threw his phone back on the couch and he flopped down on top of it. Luckily it hit his leg and not his back or his arse. That way it wouldn't break, again…

Yeah, remember when he threw it at the wall? The screen was dead after that. He needed a new phone afterwards. It took him hours to get all the information from his old mobile to his new one. But he was glad for the upgrade.

Although the screen keyboard was very different from his simpler mobile, he liked that it wasn't as heavy. And this time, he had a case for it, like the pink one. Although this case pure black. He despised the color pink, actually.

Anyway, now it was tucked under his thigh and Mycroft was coming up the stairs. Fantastic…

Aveen had retreated to her room, and she was sitting on the edge of her bed when she heard something behind her. But, she turned a little too late and someone was already there, behind her. She would have screamed, but for the hand over her mouth.

She ripped it from her mouth and screamed as loud as her vocal chords could manage, which was pretty deafening, "SHERLOCK!"

But it was too late and she was gone.

Sherlock heard struggling and was already up when the Holmes brothers were in the room. The window was open and there the curtain blew, saying, 'Oh look, now she's gone, too…' Sherlock was angry now, he couldn't just bottle it up anymore.

He punched the wall beside him. When it didn't give, he did it again, and again. His knuckles were bleeding when Mycroft tore him from the wall, "They took John, and they took our daughter! Let me go! They will pay!" he was seething as Mycroft hoisted him up over his shoulder.

Sherlock beat against Mycroft's lower back, "Let the fuck go! I need to get her back! John! Aveen!" and he was sobbing when Mycroft set him in his chair. Angry sobs erupted from him as Mycroft searched the kitchen for the first aid kit he knew was there.

But then he remembered that Sherlock didn't need that. Mycroft pulled the blood bag from his suit jacket and ripped it open, handing it to his younger brother. Sherlock was at first confused. He then decided to jest, "Hiding muscle from Lestrade?" Mycroft snorted and looked away.

But then he realized he needed this and he drank. His fangs descended and he moaned with how good this tasted. It wasn't as good as John's. Definitely not, but he hadn't had it such a long time. Mycroft set to work cleaning up the blood from Sherlock's hand as he saw the wound closing already.

Sherlock smirked through the blood and Mycroft just felt jealous. He wished he could heal like that. But he didn't want to have the burden of more secrets on his shoulders. After Sherlock had finished, he was angry again.

He licked the blood from his lips and his fangs didn't go back this time. He was too angry for that. Mycroft could even see a shade of pink take over his eyes. He was taken aback by this and made Sherlock stay seated.

"Brother mine, don't be rash. We will find her, I promise you, we will find them both," but now he wasn't so sure.

"How can you be so sure?!" he snapped.

"Have you ever failed a mission before?" he countered. Sherlock's eyes widened. He was right. This was another mission. This wasn't personal, this wasn't something to lose his head over, this was another mission.

Something in his eyes flashed and he was done, "You're right," fangs retracted. "This is another mission that will be successful," and he got up and went to his room to get dressed again. He was done. He was cold and John was going to warm him later. But right now, emotions? What emotions?

Mycroft was pleased he finally got Sherlock to calm down, but it wasn't really calming him, was it? It was more like activating that part of Sherlock that hid his feelings from everything and everyone. He had activated the sociopath that was a cold killer, and for now that was a good thing.

But how will it affect things later? What of when he actually found Aveen and John? Even though, he won't really find John, Mycroft had planned on shoving John to Sherlock once John was finished with his missions.

And with the way John was excelling, he would be back within at least a few weeks. Mycroft had underestimated him, and said it may be a few months, but now he wasn't so sure.

Now he knew not to think of John as simply harmless. That was when he got a call, "I'm finished, can it be more challenging next time?" John complained to the man on the other line, but it was followed by a pained moan.

"You just keep dropping them, don't you?" Mycroft was surprised evermore, but he kept his ear out for ho injured John really was.

"Mycroft! Who could you possibly be on the phone with now?!" Sherlock complained.

John's breath stopped and he almost cried when he heard the ice in Sherlock's voice. "What did you do to him?" John whispered, more to himself than Mycroft. But the MI6 agent heard it.

"I don't know, honestly. Do hurry, solider," Mycroft came him that nickname so he could address John and not have Sherlock on him.

Mycroft hung up and John couldn't breathe with this realization. Sherlock was back to… being sociopathic. He was void of feeling. What happened? He'll have to figure it out later.

Right now, he had a bloody hand, a gun to ditch, a sprained ankle and a bruise on the back of his neck. Yeah, he was messed up, but you should see the other guy. John had broken his arm, his nose and his head had many gashes. There was also a bullet through his shoulders and his head, obviously.

Then he got a text from Sherlock. He was grateful and at first he didn't recognize the number, but he read.

He figured Sherlock got a new phone and he did. As he explained the long text. John, this is Sherlock. Got a new mobile, broke the last one. And I don't know if you're actually reading this, but I do love you. Anyway, I know this sounds crazy but Aveen was taken. If she was taken by the same people who took you, please tell her she's okay for me. But if she wasn't taken from the same people, I will be thoroughly surprised. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I am safe, though I don't know for how long. John, I miss you, so much, I love you… - SH

So he was only showing that he was void of feeling. And John wanted to respond, he really wanted to, but he couldn't. The tears spilled over on the leather of the seat he was now sitting on in Mycroft's car for the third time. He wanted to tell Sherlock he loved him, too. And he was angry that Aveen was taken.

Who would take a small child? Unless, they knew what she was. But what would that matter? Angry, yet sad tears fell and Anthea was concerned. She didn't say a thing, but she had stopped typing and was looking to John with furrowed brows. His tears, and his injuries wee what she had sink into her eyes.

He looked t her, and he instantly snapped, "What are you looking at?!" she jumped and shook her head, not afraid but surprised, going back to her phone. John instantly felt, "Sorry," and he looked down in his lap. "I just… never mind," knowing she wouldn't want to hear his ranting. He watched the blood slow and eventually stop from his hand.

He let his sobs choke out his ability to speak as he almost didn't make it to his lonely room. He buried his face in the pillows as he let the tears stain the perfect white. The aid Mycroft sent to patch him up didn't understand the tears, but he said nothing of them. He screamed into pillow, knowing he could be heard anyway.

He didn't care. It hurt too much to stop. If he stopped, he would start again. He felt helpless without Sherlock to comfort him. He couldn't take another mission, not today. He just couldn't. he would wait until tomorrow, when he could think properly, and he was less injured.

Eve's mobile kept vibrating with texts on the nightstand as she ripped open Mary's shirt. "Shouldn't you…" she panted, "Get that…?" Mary asked.

"Ignore it," and they did, letting it go off an eventually stop. It was easy to ignore such a thing when there was a beautiful woman sending chills down your spine with kisses being planted on your neck and your shoulder and your stomach.

Eve was careful with Mary. She wanted to please her, not hurt her. Mary enjoyed those lips on her skin and her hands couldn't help but to grab onto anything she could. Eve's hair and the sheets were her choices, and she chose both.

She moaned loudly when Eve's teeth tortured her abdomen. Eve giggled and planted kisses on her way back up and flicked her tongue across Mary's lips, deepening the kiss they initiated. Mary moaned into Eve's mouth as her shirt was over her head.

Mary was already almost naked. Her shirt slipped from her shoulders as she looked down to herself. Nothing but her undergarments. Even her socks were gone. But Eve was now the same way. Her bra was lace and Mary could see her perked nipples through the pretty red surrounding her breasts.

Mary's legs went around eve's hips and she moaned when Eve somehow managed to get a hand around and unclip her boring black bra. It was on the floor as Eve put kisses around the moaning Mary's breasts.

Mary just couldn't believe she could get so much pleasure from a woman. The arms she had hanging from Eve's neck tightened and her nails dug into Eve's back as her fangs were prominent. But that was okay, because Eve's had been poking out since the first heated kiss.

They were careful with one another's fangs as they had deep kisses in between Mary slipping Eve's bra from her shoulders and she gasped. Eve was amazing, and her body was amazing. But Eve was distracted with Mary's pants.

Then she wasn't, as they were on the floor. Mary's blond and short trimmed pubes were gorgeous, like the rest of her. Eve loved the sight of Mary being so vulnerable under her touch. That was why when she planted kisses down Mary's middle, her finger made circles around Mary's nipple, and there were so many moans that Eve was having a hard time controlling herself.

Mary's fingers tangled into Eve's hair again as Eve teased her clit with kisses and the smallest of licks. Mary moaned, "Please, stop… teasing. Ah!" Eve's tongue was slow and seductive as it ran over Mary's clitoris completely and gently.

Mary was left throbbing for more as she pinned Eve to the covers, letting her dominant personality come out now. She had always done this to John, but now this was a woman, and she had a few ideas of what to do. Not so innocent now, are we?

Eve's pants were gone as she sucked lightly on her nipple and her hand drifted down, leaving trails of touches and massages on her abdomen and her hips before drifting in between her thighs. Eve was sensitive there, as she had only ever done this twice.

And the feeling of Mary's fingers were euphoric as she gripped the blond's shoulders and moaned her name. Mary decided she like that and got her to do it again as Eve's fingers pressed what Mary knew would be bruises later into her skin.

But she didn't care as she exchanged a quick tongue with Eve before it continued to lick and her teeth nipping down to her hips. Eve was shaved clean, and for that Mary was a little glad. She had never done THIS before, so she was happy that she didn't have to do it with what she hated most.

She was tired of having hair in her face when she gave anyone head. And her lips left furtive kisses on Eve's thighs and she ran a fang across it, teasing Eve's clit with kisses and little nips. Eve had her legs up over Mary's shoulders as her fingers pressed into them as well.

Mary was sure there'd be bruises now. Did she care? Not in the least. She licked slowly and Eve screamed out a moan. Mary chuckled and did it again, extracting another moan. Eve was aching and needed more before the bliss would completely take over.

But Mary's lovely mouth left her as her finger replaced it poorly. Eve still had whimpers as Mary's lips landed on hers again. Their tongues tangled and Eve could taste a bit of herself and smirked into the kiss. Mary loved the taste of Eve. Her tongue and her skin and everything else.

That' why she couldn't help when her fangs traced one of Eve's veins. Eve was nervous, but nodded. Mary wanted Eve to drink, too though. So she positioned herself in a way that Eve could sink her fangs in as well as Mary.

Mary's teeth descended into Eve's skin and Eve yelped, biting into Mary instantly. This… this was heaven on this fucked up world. Mary's fingers now inside Eve and her teeth too, she didn't know how anything else could be better.

Eve drank sloppily and finished when Mary moved off. They licked each other clean and Eve pulled Mary under her again, taking temporary control. Her tongue brushed over Mary's skin and her teeth tortured and Mary moaned Eve's name.

"Sh…" she put a finger to Mary's soft lips and continued her journey to Mary's groin. Her tongue instantly was on Mary again, the blond tickling her nose as her tongue was buried deep into Mary, scraping at the walls of her new lover.

Mary screamed out moans and dug her fingers into Eve's shoulders, her vision failed her as Eve lapped up what was seeping out of Mary now. She was pleased as she kissed her way back up to Mary's lips. But Mary wasn't finished with her just yet.

Then Eve was on her back again and both of Mary's hands cupped her breasts as her mouth travelled down and she had repeated Eve's actions. But hers were slower, just barely teasing liquid out of Eve as she did her best to lick it up.

Eve was really amazing, and Mary savored her strawberry like taste. But Eve could easily say the same about Mary. Mary was sweet no matter what part of her you were kissing. Eve's vision returned from the second of blindness she had endured and Mary collapsed beside her.

"Craziest thing I've ever done," Mary admitted.

"But the best," Eve teased as she kissed Mary, slow and meaningful. "I think…" she thought about saying this, and bit her lip, but ended up letting it spill, "I love you," she said, almost a whisper.

She was afraid Mary would say that this wasn't a result of love, and that it was just lust in the heat of the moment. But Mary surprised her by chuckling and kissing her, "I love you, too," she admitted.

Eve was definitely surprised. But she loved Mary's kisses and she was getting sleepy under them. "I'm tired," she yawned. "Sleep with me?"

"Of course," Mary smiled, spooning into Eve from behind and kissing her cheek. They fell asleep, exhausted but this was worth the last bit of energy they had had left.

John woke to darkness consuming him and at first he was scared and didn't know where he was, but then he remembered he was at Mycroft's. He also figured out that he had slept all day, and now he was going to be up all night.

He journeyed down the stairs, careful of his healing ankle, and found Mycroft sitting with his computer in his lap, and, "Greg?" John rubbed his eyes, also careful of his hand, just to make sure.

"Oh, hi John," he yawned and leaned into Mycroft, who had an arm around him. John gaped. Mycroft cuddling?

"Right, well, Mycroft I was wondering if I had to wait for the next mission tomorrow or if I could do it now," he explained.

"No, mostly because we haven't tracked the next one down. I figured you'd take longer, and we'd have hem by then, but apparently not. And then there's the other simple fact that you need time to heal, Watson. Why don't you try to go back to sleep?" Mycroft waved his hand at John.

"Right, I'm good. I think I will just try to get some more sleep," he ran his fingers through his hair and took one last good look at Gregory in Mycroft's lap. It was strange, but John couldn't really judge.

He himself had fallen for a Holmes, and they are captivating. That sent a pang of guilt to his heart. But he covered it until he reached his room. He found that he had covered it too well, and the tears he expected didn't come.

Good, he didn't want them. Tears made him feel weak, and though he knew they were sometimes good, he still felt that they weren't right now. He plopped on the bed and rolled under the covers. He tried to sleep.

He really did try, but he couldn't, he kept thinking about Sherlock and how much he missed him. This was torture, knowing his detective was so close, yet so, so far away. Then there was Aveen, dear God, she was just a child and someone took her…

John tried to sleep, but too much worried him.

Sherlock couldn't sleep, either. He felt like John was thinking about him as well, and he instantly quit. Feelings can wait, he knew they could. They had to. But he was alone in the flat. And that was what made him get up and get dressed and grab his coat and he went for a walk.

But before he could do so, he caught a glimpse of something shining in the night, over there in the corner of their room. His shoes padded on the carpet and he bent over in front of the closet, figures. Of course they'd be there, just when John was gone, and Sherlock needed him.

But do you know what he did? He said, fuck it, and put that chain around his neck and tucked it under his shirt. As he bounced down the stairs the familiar jingle almost brought tears to his eyes. But he got some fresh air, and he was more towards okay than before.

As long as he could control his breathing, he would be okay. But he wouldn't be perfect until his soldier and his little girl were returned to him…

Aveen woke almost breathless. "About time you little brat," someone spat. She instantly sat up, wondering why she was in a room, tied to a small chair.

"Who are you? Where's Sherlock?" she stared at the man who seemed to be young.

"I am your Elder. Now shut up, or you may never see your father again," he sneered.

"An Elder? If there's one good thing my mother ever taught me, it's that you are dirt," she spat in his face that was so close to hers.

"Your mother was a no good whore," he wiped her spit from his face and refrained from hitting her. She didn't disagree, she simply sat as a woman walked in.

"Is it really necessary to tie her up like that?" she gestured to the wriggling Aveen in the chair.

"If she's anything like her family, yes. Did Eve accomplish her task?" he asked. She nodded as Aveen's eyes widened.

"What task? What did you do?!" she screamed at them. The woman just blinked, looking bored, and the man's lips curled into a smile.

"Let's just say the family is separated, and now you have no one to rely on because John is very distracted at the moment," he snickered and she fought her restraints more.

"No! Sherlock! John! Let me go!" she kicked and screamed as they left her. She screamed until she was hoarse, at which point she decided she would be silent. It wasn't worth ruining her voice to the point of no return.

o0o0o0o

When they came back in, they had loads of questions for her, and she answered none of them. They asked her about her mother, and about the people she knew now. She just glared and stayed silent. They gave up and decided they would just get it from John when they finished the rest of their plans.

Aveen hated hearing them talk about her friends and family in the way they did, but she stayed silent. It was almost as if it was a protest, because she was done.

But that was when the woman walked back in, and untied her. Her first instinct was to kick her, or punch her, but then she saw something in her eyes, and she said, "I'm sorry, but this is to be done," she explained.

Aveen choked out, "Why?"

"Sherlock defied our rules and he has murdered many of us, and so my… partner decided he needed to be punished. This is his idea of punishment," she sighed. Aveen didn't speak again, just crossed her arms over her chest and sat on the tile under her.

She had tears and she bit them back. She would not show fear, only cold defiance. She would be strong… which didn't last long until the woman left.

Aveen sobbed and her shoulders shook as she wished her fathers were here to comfort her. But they weren't. They were off searching for her. Or at least, Sherlock was. She wasn't sure about John, and that just made the tears fall faster.

John couldn't fucking sleep, and the light coming through the window now wasn't helping. He needed another mission, he needed to find Aveen, he needed to get to Sherlock. He needed everything he couldn't have.

He pushed himself up off of the bed and decided he would make himself breakfast. Forget Mycroft's cooks, he wanted his own food. He shuffled out of his room and down the stairs, "John," Gregory was sitting at the table, with Mycroft…

"Why don't you join us, John?" Mycroft suggested. Gregory already had half his plate gone and Mycroft barely touched his. So it's not just Sherlock, then.

John didn't want to know what happened last night, so he simply sat with his shoulders slumped and he was practically leaning over the table as someone set down a plate of food. So much for his own food. But he thanked the butler anyway.

John ate slowly, and Gregory complained about Mycroft not eating. It reminded John of when Sherlock wouldn't eat, and John would feed him like a child because he wouldn't eat any other way. He smirked and shook his head as that was what happened.

Gregory spooned Mycroft's food from his plate and it was in his mouth before he could complain again. John looked to them and he smiled through the tears that were forming. He looked back to his own plate and heard Mycroft making sarcastic comments and Gregory telling him to shut up.

John's mind wandered far off subject, though. Who could have taken Aveen? And why? Who the hell would want a kid? John thought this was about Sherlock and him… wait. "Mycroft, can I speak to you, alone? Just for a minute, please."

Mycroft nodded and Gregory retreated for a few minutes. John lowered his voice, "I think I know who has Aveen," he said simply.

Mycroft's eyes widened slightly, "And how would you know?" he was curious.

"Well, this has to do with Sherlock, yes?" Mycroft nodded. "I think it was the Elders," he then said. Mycroft laughed. He couldn't help it. "What? It's possible," he defended.

"If the Elders were that childish. The only reason it would be them is if Sherlock really did something they didn't like and now they're doing anything to punish them," he explained.

"Well, it's Sherlock. He could have…" John spaced and just let Mycroft's words roll around in his head and finished eating when Gregory walked back in. He didn't make Mycroft eat any more, but he did eye John suspiciously. John simply pushed his plate away and went back to his room. But not before saying, "Call me when you have another mission," he mumbled.

He didn't care if he had a sprained ankle, he was killing something soon, and if it ain't a Vamp, it'll be Mycroft. Then he chuckled to himself, he could never pull off such a threat. But he felt better trying in his head.

"As soon as you heal," Mycroft said back and John was gone. He might as well have been sulking, but he wasn't. He was just tired. Tired of being in danger, tired of losing his lover, tired of losing his family, tired of being tired…

He knew he wouldn't sleep, but he rolled under the covers anyway. He knew that if Mycroft questioned, he could use his injuries as an excuse to stay in bed until there was another mission.

Mary was woken by someone at the door, again. She pulled on a robe of Eve's and pulled carefully out from behind her. She padded down the stairs and opened the door, "Here. The woman made me agree to let you have her for now," and he shoved a shaking little girl at Mary.

The girl's eyes were red, and she was obviously scared, but not as much as she was pissed. "Why…" and Mary took a better look at the girl attached to her abdomen now. She couldn't believe the Elder had just given her this person.

"Mary… don't let them take me again," she sobbed as the Elder left…

Sherlock woke from his two hours of sleep after his walk, and he was rested, but he wanted to stay in bed. Then again, the smell of John isn't very nice right now. He jumped from bed and dressed, the jingling almost worse than the smell. He went back to the main room where he had been thinking about this all the while Aveen has been gone and John hasn't returned, either.

Sherlock paced in front of the fireplace, his feet making the fading spot worse as the sun rose. He felt the heat through the curtains and it didn't distract him, but he hated the fact that it was so cheerful while he was suffering.

That was when he settled, and decided he had to do this. He hadn't tried it yet, and he knew that if was the only thing left, it'd have to work, and to his mind palace, he retreated.

Aveen looked to Mary with tears in her eyes, "They took me from Father," she sobbed. Mary kneeled to meet her.

She put her hands to Aveen's shoulders, "It'll be okay, we'll get you back soon," she promised. She didn't want this anymore. How could the Elders have been so childish? Aveen has nothing to do with this, she's a small girl.

Aveen disregarded any comments and she latched onto Mary again, wrapping her legs around Mary's waist and her arms around her neck. Her face was buried in Mary's shoulder before she could complain or move her.

She moved to the couch and Eve came out. She recognized Aveen right away and grinned. Mary glared at her, she just looked away, still smiling. She disappeared to the kitchen and Mary comforted Aveen for so long she had her robe soaked at the shoulder.

Eve was only wearing her underwear, but she didn't care and they were all girls, so what did it matter? Besides, Mary was getting a nice view. Eve blushed when she caught Mary looking. Mary only acted like she hadn't been doing a thing as she went back to Aveen.

The raven haired girl moved to lay on the couch, curled into a ball and she let no more tears fall. She couldn't even if she wanted to, anyway. Eve sat by Mary, leaning her head on the blond's shoulder. Mary smiled sadly as she stroked Eve's hair and Aveen just rolled over.

Mary knew that if she was to try to move Aveen she would fuss, so she let her lay there as the sun poked through the windows' curtains. Mary sighed as she turned into Eve, cuddling her head under her chin. Eve accepted her, kissing the top of her head and placing her cheek there.

"He deserves this, you know," Eve said suddenly.

"Does he?" knowing full well who Eve was talking about.

"Yes. He murdered my boss, and I know it doesn't sound like much. But when you know Jim like I did, it was a lot to take in. No, he'll pay for ruining the man I loved and his followers. He didn't get all of us, and for that, he'll be sorry," she spat.

Mary looked to her, "You love him?" she searched Eve's lovely green eyes that were newly full of anger.

"Not romantically, but like a brother. He took me in after I told him the rut I was in, and I started working for him. Don't worry, I love you," she assured Mary with a kiss, and her eyes softened.

Aveen was so confused. So women can love each other like that, too? God, what the fuck is wrong with people? But Aveen was tired, and she fell asleep, snoring lightly. Mary smiled as she picked her up from the couch.

She carried her back to the room that was to be hers, but not now. She tucked her under the covers and turned to find Eve right behind her. "Eep!" Eve just took her in her arms and kissed her, taking her from this room and back down to the couch, where they simply cuddled.

"You know, I don't care if he deserves it, she doesn't," Mary reasoned, also talking of Aveen.

"I know," Eve stroked her cheek, "that's why we'll take care of her, and her father can go die in a hole," she smiled.

Mary rolled her eyes, but she couldn't really judge. She had killed for a lost love before. But she still didn't understand why Eve hated him THAT much. And Perhaps, (and hopefully, honestly) she never will…

Again, sorry for jumping perspectives so much... But there is one thing I want you to really think about: What's Sherlock got around his neck? Just wanted to make sure you try to guess at it. And btw, I am now updating Wed and Sun, I couldn't help it. I love writing... but, reviews?