*Hello lovelies! Here's the next chapter for you all. Seeing as it is snowing non-stop where I am and it doesn't look like it's going to stop any time soon, I'm more than likely going to finish this story either tonight or tomorrow. This chapter was really difficult to write, but I knew it was coming. I hope everyone enjoys it! As always, reviews are welcome, as well as PM's with any questions or requests. Have a lovely day and I will see you all in the next chapter!*

Chapter 15: How I See You

"What room is Sherlock Holmes in?" I demanded as I ran up to the front desk nurse.

"Who?"

"Sherlock Holmes! The man that they brought in that was shot!"

"Miss, you're going to have to get control of yourself. You're disturbing the other patients!"

"I don't care! Where is he?!" I was growing more panicked and angry the longer it took me to find out. "Never mind, I'll find him myself!"

"Miss. Miss you can't go running around! This is a hospital!"

I ignored her as I began to jog down a hallway, dialing back the last number that had called me. "John! Where are you? Where's Sherlock?"

"Emergency surgery."

I looked around at the signs, finding that surgery was on the third floor. I slammed into the stairwell door even as I heard the sound of guards running after me. I took the stairs two at a time, making it to the third floor. I paused, catching my breath for a brief moment, listening to see if security had figured out where I was going.

When I heard nothing I pushed through the door, taking off at another slow jog. I ran past room after room, nothing but the same monotonous beeping sounding as I ran past. I saw what looked like a waiting room, the words SURGERY above it in shining silver letters. I spotted John pacing back and forth under those letters.

"Where is he? What's his status?" I asked John as I ran in, looking around wildly. "Have they said anything?"

He looked at me, eyes wide. "Delilah. I didn't expect you to-"

"What's his status?" I shouted, grabbing John by the arms. "Tell me John!"

"St-still in surgery. Delilah, are you alright?"

I laughed, hearing the barely choked back hysteria. "Alright? Alright? Oh I'm perfectly fine John, having a wonderful night. You know, it's not like my fiancé was shot and could possibly die or anything like that! So yes, I am perfectly alright."

John's mouth was hanging open in shock. "You…you're engaged?"

I realized in horror what I'd said, covering my mouth with a trembling hand. John's eyes froze when he saw the ring on my bandaged hand. "Th-that's the-"

I heard the doors behind us open and I watched as a nurse walked out. "How is he?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Sherlock. How is Sherlock? Will he live? When can I see him?"

"I'm sorry, we cannot disclose any information to anyone outside of his family."

"I am his fiancé. Now damn it, you will tell me where he is or so help me God I will go back there and look for him myself. Where is HE?!"

The woman was shaking and her face was pale. John gently grabbed my arm, but I jerked away from him, feeling the anger and rage rolling off of me as I stared this woman down.

"I-I-I'm sorry m-miss but he's…we called time of death at 23:37."

My entire world crumbled in that single sentence. I felt my legs give out and I began to fall to the ground. John trying to catch me, but I slipped from his grip. I fell to my knees, ignoring the pain. "No. No no no no no. NO! SHERLOCK!" I half-screamed, half sobbed, grabbing at my hair. "God please don't do this to me again. Please! SHERLOCK!"

I began to hyperventilate, rocking back and forth. John sank down next to me, pulling me in his arms. "Sherlock…Sherlock no. No please God no. Sh-Sherlock!"

"Easy. Easy. Breathe for me. Breathe. Come on now."

"I…can't…" I sobbed out, clutching at the front of John's jumper. "I…can't…SHERLOCK!"

John pulled me tighter against him even as we sat in front of the operating room door. I heard the intercom cut on above us. "I need the crash team to return to operating room one. Crash team to room one."

I looked up at John. "C-crash team. Wh-what do they need a-?"

The nurse was running back down the hallway and I was shoving to my feet, standing at the doors, looking down to see if I could see anything. I watched as half a dozen nurses and doctors ran by, heading to what was more than likely operating room one. I fell to my knees once more, clasping my hands together despite the pain, closing my eyes and bowing my head.

"God, if you can hear me, I need you to answer this one prayer for me. I saw you work a miracle before when I was trapped inside of that warehouse. I need you to work one more for me. On that table is the man that I wish to be my husband, who I love with all my heart. Please, God, if you're there, please keep him alive for me. Protect him, help him. Lord, help him because I cannot. All I can do is pray." The tears continued to fall from my eyes and roll down my face. I rested my left hand on the operating room entrance, the right fisted in my lap. "I don't care what it takes. Take the breath from my body, the heart from my chest. Take my very soul if it means that Sherlock Holmes will live. I would rather survive a thousand rapes, suffer a million years of torture, than have you take him from me. In God's name I pray, amen."

"Amen," I heard John murmur next to me. I looked over through blurry eyes to see John kneeling beside me. "Come on, let's go and get a chair."

He helped me to my feet and we managed to stagger to two chairs in the corner. I sank down, putting my head in my hands. "I should have come with you."

"Hey. Don't you go blaming yourself. It's not like Sherlock and I haven't done this routine a thousand times before." John rubbed my back, but I could tell that he was as upset as I was. "The doctors here, they're good. And the fact that he's still fighting is also good. You can't give up on him Del. He's…he's going to pull through."

I wiped my eyes, still feeling the anxiety knotted in my chest. "I…I don't want him to die John. I don't want him to die without him knowing how much he means to me."

"Oh, I think he knows. That's the only way you would have even gotten a ring on your finger." John took my hand. "I don't want to lose him either. He's the closest thing to a brother I've ever had."

I gave John a watery smile. "Kind of like your wife is the closest thing to a sister I've had in a while. So does that make them siblings?"

We both chuckled softly and I looked at the door, waiting for any word on Sherlock. It came three hours later, the same nurse from before exiting, along with two members of security. I sat up, nudging John in the ribs as they approached.

"Miss?"

"Yes? How is he?"

"Well…the surgeons are calling it a medical miracle. Your fiancée, he's alive. We have him in post-op and he's recovering. He's stable, but he's still in critical condition." She gave me a smile and I got to my feet. The two security guards shifted uncomfortably.

"Thank you. Thank you so much." I was crying again and I hugged her tight. "I'm so sorry for shouting at you. I was upset."

"I understand. I don't know how I would do if it were my husband in emergency surgery. We'll let you back in about an hour or so, as long as he remains stable." I could tell that she was uncomfortable even as she awkwardly patted my back.

I let the nurse go, turning to John. "He's going to be okay. Oh John, he's going to be alright."

John pulled me in for a hug and I began to cry again, burying my face in his shoulder. We stayed like that for a few minutes until I managed to get control of myself. "I'm so happy John."

"I am as well. A few weeks of healing and they should release him. And then you two can plan for your wedding."

I gave him a small smile. "I suppose you found out that Janine was-"

"An act? Yes. I must say, you played your role very convincingly."

"Believe me when I say, my rage was not a role. I really was going to kill her if she stayed one more night in our bed. And trust me when I say that I was not at all happy about having to go along with his plan. But if it will get us Magnussen, then I'm glad we did it. That's who shot him, isn't it? Is he in custody?"

"No, not at all. When I got up there, Magnussen was bound to a chair. He had no idea who it was that shot Sherlock, only that they had knocked him out and tied him up. A man like that, he has to make a lot of enemies though. Could have been a robbery gone wrong or an assassination attempt gone awry."

I frowned. "Once Sherlock's well he'll tell us. I'm going to go and get some coffee. Do you want some?"

"I'm fine. I'll phone you if they say that we can go back to see him."

"I hope it's soon. I'm not leaving his side once he's in a room."

John gave me a small grin. "You know, he's lucky to have you."

I shook my head, returning his smile. "It's the other way around, John. I'm lucky to have him- all of you, actually- in my life. Without you three…"

"I know. Go and get some coffee. I'll look at your hand when you get back."

I nodded. "Thank you. I'll be back shortly."

I walked down the hall, glancing at the clock. 3:17. I knew I should probably try and get a small nap in the chair when I got back, but I was too wired. Sherlock was still in danger of dying and I was still a nervous wreck. I flipped my phone open, re-reading the text messages Sherlock had sent me, smiling as I read the words 'I love you' over and over again.

"I love you too," I whispered even as I found the coffee pot for family's waiting on their loved ones. "You'd better not die on me you son of a bitch."

I poured myself a cup, adding sugar and cream. I jumped as my phone buzzed in my hand. I opened it, looking at the unknown number curiously. I opened the message, eyes widening as I read.

Meet me at London Zoo, 1:30 today. Come alone, no weapons. -CAM

No. I am not leaving Sherlock. Tomorrow. -DM

I do not have time tomorrow. Today. 1:30. I'll be waiting. -CAM

I told you. No. I am not leaving Sherlock. -DM

Then I guess you don't want to know about your sister's whereabouts. That's fine. Have a grand time in that hospital. -CAM

I sighed. He'd figured out who I was. Damn it. I'd known it would only be a matter of time, but it was still irritating. I looked down at the screen. What would Sherlock do?

Fine. 1:30. But I want answers and I will not be away from him for more than an hour. -DM

It will take me thirty minutes. Don't be late. -CAM

I ran a hand through my hair. What was I getting myself into? And I wouldn't have Sherlock to rely on either. I walked back down the hall, finding John chatting with the nurse from earlier. I took a sip of my coffee as I approached.

"How is he?" I asked, taking another sip.

"Still stable. The doctor said that you can go back and see him if you'd like. You have to be quiet though."

"We'll be quiet as church mice," I replied. "How do we get down there?"

"Through these doors, down the hall take a right. He's the fifth door on the left. Hit the buzzer when you want to be let in and out." The nurse offered me a smile. "We'll let you two stay for as long as you'd like. Don't make a disturbance though or else we'll be forced to ask you to leave."

"Thank you. John, could we have a word before we go in?"

John raised an eyebrow, but stepped to the side with me, out of earshot of the nurse. I waited until she'd gone back into the surgery wing before I said, "John, I'm going to have to leave him at one o'clock tomorrow. Do you mind keeping an eye on him until I get back?"

"Of course I can. What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to prep the flat for his return home. It shouldn't take me too long, an hour or so. If you call me and tell me he's not doing well, I'll come right back." I took another sip of my coffee, trying to gauge his reaction.

"You do know that he's not going to be home for at least three weeks, correct?"

"Might as well get an early jump on it. That and I need to change. I'd rather not start stinking."

John nodded. "Fine. I'll keep an eye on him. If you need to take longer-"

"No. I'm not leaving his side until I have to. I'll pack a bag and bring it back. Thank you." I went to push the button to let us in when I paused. "John...would you...would you mind holding my hand while we see him?"

"Sure. You want me to take your coffee?"

I shook my head. "No. Take my left hand. Just be easy with it."

He took my left hand, giving it the gentlest of squeezes. "Come on. Let's go and see him."

He and I both pushed the button, watching as the doors swung open. We walked quickly and quietly down the hall. As we arrived at the door, I felt my heart begin to race again. John glanced over at me. "You going to be alright?"

"Fine," I said, voice trembling. I cleared my throat. "So long as he's alive, I'll be fine."

John opened the door and I felt my breath catch in my chest, my legs wobbling. Sherlock looked awful. He was deathly pale and there were tubes coming from every direction. My eyes were fixed on the heart monitor, its beeping slow and steady, monotonous even. I let go of John's hand, stepping to the foot of the bed to look down at Sherlock.

"Sherlock," I whispered. "Oh Sherlock, I'm so sorry."

John went to stand by his side, looking down at him. I noticed a chair in the corner and I set my coffee down on the table next to it. I grabbed the chair, dragging it next to the bed before I sat down. I took his hand gently, pressing a kiss to it. I was careful to make sure I didn't pull on his IV even as I held it. It felt so cold, so…

"Lifeless," I whispered, feeling the tears once again trying to fall. I blinked rapidly, looking to John. "Will he be alright John? Answer me honest."

John took Sherlock's pulse before glancing at the chart. "He should be. If he survived the surgery, as long as he takes it easy, he should be alright."

I chuckled, brushing back some of Sherlock's dark hair from his forehead before stroking his cheek with my fingertips. "Him? Take it easy? Nothing is ever easy with Sherlock. Ever."

John smiled, still staring down at him. "No, unfortunately nothing is ever easy with him. But you know that as well as anyone. When did you two-"

"Get engaged? Before he started bringing Janine over. He told me who she was and that he planned on seeing her until he could get inside of Appledore to gain access to all of the files." I let go of Sherlock's hand, setting it gently on the bed. "He said that the ring was to…remind me of his love for me. That I shouldn't doubt it. And I don't. Oh Sherlock, I've never doubted your love for me."

John stood quietly, glancing up at me from time to time as I unraveled the bandaging on my hand before taking Sherlock's once more. He cleared his throat and I looked up at him. "I'm going to go and grab some coffee, maybe see if there's some place around here that sells food. Do you want anything?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm fine. Have you told Mycroft or Molly yet?"

"Mycroft already knew and Lestrade woke Molly and told her. They should all be coming up to visit him tomorrow or the day after." He hesitated before asking me," Delilah, are you sure you don't need anything? Bottle of water? More coffee?"

I shook my head, staring at Sherlock. "No, I'm fine. All I need is for him to be alright. That's all I want."

John nodded. "He'll wake up. He will. I'll be back in an hour or so. Call me if you need anything."

I watched as he walked out of the room before I turned my attention back to Sherlock. I kept holding his hand, trying to warm it, make it so that it wasn't so cold. I could only stare at him, willing him to wake up, to open his eyes. I moved myself closer to the bed, tucking my legs underneath of it. I leaned forward, resting my head on the pillow next to his. I began to whisper in his ear.

"Valentine's night. You remember it, don't you? Sitting at the kitchen table that you'd cleared off, candlelight flickering on the walls, talking about nothing and everything all at once. I want you to remember that. And I want you to remember what you told me when we began dancing and I accused you of being drunk. What did you want to tell me? How you saw me. And I told you that if you did that, that I'd have to tell you how I saw you. I…never did tell you. I want to tell you now. If you'd let me."

I thought for a split second I saw a smile on his lips, but I shook it off as my tired delusions. I pressed a kiss to his forehead before I continued. "Sherlock Holmes, when I first look at you in the morning, I see the man I love lying in bed next to me. I see the next fifty years of my life sleeping peacefully beside me. I see a man who is giving, loyal, intelligent, and above all else, a good man. When I look at you, Sherlock, I see my dark-haired angel, the man who pulled me off the streets and saved my life in more ways than one. I see arguments and fights and shouting and stubbornly sitting in the living room not acknowledging one another. But I also see making up, telling one another we love each other, and sitting peacefully in the living room next to one another, working together."

"Sherlock, when I look into your eyes I see galaxies in them filled with new adventures and knowledge and passion. I see the love of my life in those eyes, something that I never thought that I would get to have. And I am telling you now, Sherlock, that you will stay alive so that I can still see those galaxies in your eyes, so I can still see my dark-haired angel, my world, my life." I wiped at my eyes with the palm of my free hand. "You are my life Sherlock Holmes and you cannot die on me. Not now, not ever. I love you. I love you so much and…to lose you…it would break me in a way that I know I couldn't recover from. You have to live my darling." I pressed a kiss before I whispered in his ear, "The game is on."

I must have dozed off after that because John was shaking my shoulder, trying to rouse me. "Hey. The nurse wanted me to wake you."

"How long have you been back for?" I asked, sitting up and stretching.

"About an hour. You were asleep and I didn't want to wake you. I ate while you slept. Managed to find a petrol station around the corner that still had a couple of sandwiches from yesterday for sale." John shrugged. "They're going to move him up to a regular room and then we can go and visit him. Come on a walk with me while they do?"

"Will they tell us which room?"

"I've already got the room number and what floor it will be on." John offered me his hand. "Come on, we'll go and get a bit of fresh air. You need a break from being on watch."

I got up from the chair, pressing another kiss to Sherlock's brow. "I'll be back soon my darling."

As we left the room, I glanced at my phone, sighing. It was six-thirty. The hustle and bustle of London would be starting. I watched as people began to trail into the waiting room where we'd been sitting a few hours ago, hoping and praying for a miracle. John and I walked outside onto an outdoor patio. I looked out across the courtyard, watching as cars zoomed by on the streets.

"Delilah?"

"Yes John?"

"I spoke with one of the surgeons who was in the room when…well, when Sherlock's heart began to beat again. He said that Sherlock said something when he opened his eyes."

"Aye? And what was that?"

"Well…strange enough, he said…well he said Mary's name."

I froze. "He said…what?"

"Mary. He said her name."

I felt sick. How could I have not seen it before?

'Between Janine and Magnussen…Magnussen? Charles Magnussen?...Yes? Do you know him?' My mind was spinning, my whole body beginning to vibrate with my rage. 'Blackmail apparently. He's staying in town for some sort of meeting.' Mary's voice echoed in my mind. 'Delilah dear, its been fun, but I have something that I need to take care of. A meeting I need to attend. I'll text you when it's finished.' I heard the phone ringing in my mind. 'Delilah? Delilah it's John. Sherlock, he was shot.' I was turning away from John, walking back into the building. 'They don't think he's going to make it.'

"Hey! Where are you going?" John called to me. I turned to look over my shoulder, seeing him standing there confused.

"Home. I have something that I need to take care of."

I found the door to Mary and John's flat easy enough to pick. It was a skill that I'd learned out on the streets, one that I'd hoped I wouldn't have to employ any more. I went up the stairs and opened the door, padding silently through their home. I could hear the soft sound of snoring coming from the back bedroom.

The rage was burning in the pit of my belly even as I drew my gun from my holster. I held it tight in my hand, taking a few deep breaths before I entered the bedroom. There she was, laying in the bed, sound asleep. I kicked the foot of the bed, watching as she jerked awake. I raised my gun, training it on Mary's chest.

"Delilah? Delilah, what are you doing here? How did you get in?" Her eyes focused on the gun in my hand. "Why do you have that?"

"Why did you do it?"

"Do what? What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb with me Mary. You know what I am talking about. And unlike Sherlock, I don't need an answer. I'm only giving you a chance to explain yourself as to why you shot him before I kill you." I rested my finger on the trigger, my eyes never leaving hers. "I trusted you, you fucking bitch and you nearly killed him. John trusted you. How could you?"

"Let me get out of bed and I will explain everything to you. Can you let me do that?"

I kept my gun trained on her. "Fine."

Slowly, she pulled the covers back and I took a step forward. Before I could react, she was drawing her gun on me. "It seems we're at a stalemate. Lower your weapon."

"You first," I growled. "I'm not putting my weapon down."

"I shot Sherlock. Do you really think I will hesitate to kill you?"

"Do you think that I'll hesitate to take you with me?" I replied. "Even if I die, at least Sherlock and John will be safe from a monster like you."

"I am asking you to let me explain myself. All I want is five minutes."

My eyes narrowed as I stared at her. "And if I don't give it to you?"

"Well then, I guess John is going to come home to a very bloody flat. I will not hesitate to put you down if it means saving myself and the baby."

I let out a huff of breath. "We'll lower our weapons on the count of three. One."

"Two."

"Three," we both said in unison, lowering our guns to point at the floor.

"You have five minutes to explain yourself to me Mary. If that even is your real name."

"It's not," she replied, walking past me to go out into the living room. "I'm not giving you my real name either. I was an operative for the CIA until I decided to go freelance." I heard her accent drop, becoming distinctively American. "I got mixed in with the wrong crowd, took some jobs that could put me in prison for the rest of my life. Well, you know how that is, right?" She sat down on the couch, staring at me. "Charles Magnussen found out all of this information and threatened me with it. I'm guessing that he wanted an assassin to be at his beck and call. I went to his office last night to kill him."

"And you instead tried to kill Sherlock," I said, sitting across from her, keeping my gun in my hand. "Why?"

"He shouldn't have come," Mary said simply. "Once he'd seen my face, I knew I couldn't let him go. But, with John downstairs, if I killed both Sherlock and Magnussen, he would be implicated in the murders. And I couldn't let that happen."

"How did you come up with your new identity?"

"Found a stillborn baby's old tomb. Mary Elizabeth Morstan. After that, it was easy to get the paperwork, set up a new life here in London as a nurse. I didn't want any of this you know. I wanted my past to stay buried in that cemetary. I never wanted to have to pick up the gear or the gun ever again. But, Magnussen threatened it. All of it."

"Why didn't you tell us? Mary, why wouldn't you have told Sherlock? He could have helped. Hell, why didn't you tell me when we went out to lunch yesterday?"

"Because…I couldn't trust that either of you wouldn't tell John. I don't want him finding out. He'd hate me if he knew some of the things that I did. I can't lose him, much like you can't lose Sherlock." Mary touched her lower abdomen, smiling softly. "I am truly sorry that I had to shoot him. But you have to understand, if I had wanted to kill him, I would have."

"Oh, so you only maimed him horribly and hoped and prayed that he would make it. Is that it?" I said through gritted teeth. "I hope you know that I despise you right now. You're a liar. And I can't trust a fucking liar. You were supposed to be my friend. My best friend. I viewed you as a sister and then you did this." I raised my gun to point at her once again. "If Sherlock dies, I swear to God, I will kill you. Do you understand that?"

"Understood," Mary said quietly, staring up at me. "I never pictured you as the murdering type though Del."

"Don't call me that. You don't get to call me that."

"Well, here's my own little part of the bargain," Mary murmured and I could see that she had her own gun pointed at my torso. "If you tell John about what I am, I will kill you. Do you understand that?"

"Understood."

"Good. Now, let's go and visit with our favorite consulting detective, shall we?"

The ride to the hospital was a silent one. Mary and I sat on complete opposite sides of the cab, looking out onto the streets. I had had to keep my temper in check. I was still tempted to reveal to John who the woman really was before I shot her, but I also didn't want to hurt him in the process either. I sighed and I heard Mary turn to look at me.

"When we get there, we have to act as if we're the best of friends. You know that, right?"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course I know that. I think I can manage it. I mean, I've had both of you fooled for the past month that Sherlock and I ended things."

I saw Mary trying to hide a grin. "So you did. I thought it was a little strange that he would change his mind, but then again, it is Sherlock we're talking about."

"Does John know I'm with you?"

Mary shook her head. "No. And I would rather keep it that way."

"Fine. I'll get in at another entrance to the hospital. John texted me the room number anyway, said Sherlock had even woken up briefly from his drug induced stupor."

"Fine. I'll see you when we get up to the room."

The cab pulled up outside of St. Bart's and I got out, making a beeline for a different entrance. I took the stairs up to Sherlock's room on the fourth floor, finding him in bed, a morphine drip next to him. I sat down, taking his hand.

"I'm back darling. I know you probably can't here me, but-"

"Lila?" I heard Sherlock ask hoarsely.

"Sherlock?"

"Lila…Mary…she…"

"Hush. Hush. I know. I know. I've already confronted her. I will keep you and John safe." I stood up, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "You are safe my darling, I promise you."

Sherlock had seemingly drifted off once more and I ran my fingers through his hair. Mary and John soon came up and John seemed startled to see me. "Del. When did you get back?"

"About fifteen minutes ago. Mary! Good morning. I suppose you came to see Sherlock, didn't you?"

"I did. How's he doing?"

"Well, I'd say pretty well, seeing as he's still breathing. I'll give you two some time alone with him." I rose to my feet. "I need some water."

"I'll come with you. We need to fix your hand anyway." John turned to Mary. "Will you be alright with him by yourself for a little bit?"

"Of course."

"Take good care of him," I said softly, giving her a warning glance. "We'll be back shortly."

"I will. I promise."

John and I walked out of the room, John giving me a curious look even as we headed down the hall. "I managed to get some supplies so that we could bind your hand."

"I don't want it bound."

"Why not? Delilah, it's broken. It needs to heal properly."

"I need to be able to use it."

"You can't if it's broken. Jesus, stop being so stubborn." I followed him into what looked suspiciously like an employee lounge. "Now, sit down and give me your hand. What time were you leaving at today?"

"Around one. It's what, ten o'clock now?"

"Almost. Let me see."

I sighed, holding out my hand. I watched as John's gaze once again fell on the ring on my finger. "He definitely picked the right ring, didn't he?"

I smiled, looking down at the ring. "Yes, I suppose he did."

"Well, how'd he do it?"

"Hmm?"

"How did he propose?"

"Oh. In the flat. We were dancing. It was after he'd told me about the plan with Janine." I hissed as John bound my fingers together. "Jesus Christ that hurts."

"Yes, well, if you would stop punching refrigerators then maybe it wouldn't hurt." John pinned the bandaging together. "So, what are you really going to do at one?"

I looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "I told you already. I-"

"Del. I lived with you for a good amount of time. I can tell when you're lying. What are you going to go and do?"

I sighed. "Do you really want to know?" John stared at me silently. "Fine. I'm going to go and meet with someone who might know who shot Sherlock. Is that alright?"

"I'm going with you."

"No!" I snapped. "You're not. You're going to stay here with Sherlock and keep me updated."

John sighed. "You can't keep me out of this."

"And I'm not trying to. I'll let you know what I find out. But right now, I need someone I can trust to stay with him."

"What about Mary? She could stay."

I knew I'd have to tread carefully here. "Yes, she could. But she's also pregnant. I don't want to put any more stress on her than there needs to be. Please John. I promise you I'll be careful. I'll call you as soon as I'm done, alright?"

John shook his head. "With Sherlock out of it, someone needs to keep you safe."

"Aye. That would be me. You forget, I survived on my own without you boys for a long time. I can do it again for an hour." I examined my hand, smiling. "Thank you John."

"You're welcome. You'd better come back in one piece. I don't want to have to be the one to explain to Sherlock why you're in a hospital bed as well."

I chuckled. "I'll be fine. Now, why don't we-"

There was a knock on the doorway and John and I both turned to see Mycroft standing in the doorway. "Sorry, am I intruding?"

"A bit," I said through gritted teeth. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think? I'm here to visit my brother and have you banned from seeing him."

I shook my head, laughing. "A bit hard to ban his fiancé, don't you think?"

I watched as Mycroft's face paled. "W-what? What did you say?"

"Oh, did your brother forget to tell you? Sorry, we were going to make the announcement today. Sherlock and I, we're engaged." I pulled back the wrap on my left hand to show Mycroft the ring. "Do you really want to upset him when he wakes by telling him I can't see him?"

Mycroft's eyes never left mine. "Out."

"What? What do you mean out?" John demanded, getting to his feet. "Now wait just a minute, I-"

"I said out. She and I have something that we need to discuss privately. Now get out."

"You can't-"

"Do as he says John," I said quietly. "I'll be fine. I'll say my good-byes when I'm done." John opened his mouth to say something, but I shot him a look. "John. Do as he says."

John left the room, giving me one last backward glance before he headed down the hall. Mycroft locked the door behind him before turning to me, leaning on his umbrella. "So…out of all the people in this world, he chose you."

"Yes."

"And I'm supposed to be your brother-in-law and be happy with that idea?"

"Aye. You should be leaping for joy that he chose me. I'm the best sister-in-law you could have, provided you don't cross me."

Mycroft snorted. "You? Really? You're worthless. Useless. Unintelligent, emotional. A thief."

"Aye. I am a thief. As you, your brother, and everyone else I've come across has pointed out constantly." I stood in front of Mycroft now, glaring at him. "And I suppose I should let you know that I have stolen something else, something very important. Your brother's heart. It's my greatest treasure and I don't plan on losing it. I'm not leaving him. You can get that thought out of your head."

"I am going to make life very difficult for you."

"I know. But, tell me Mycroft, who was it that resuscitated him after a plunge into the Thames? Who was it that leapt into a pool to rescue him?" I lowered my voice. "Who was it that was there for him after he lost the closest damn thing to a brother he had? Who was here as soon as they heard the news and nearly lost their damn mind when the nurse told them that time of death had been called? Oh, that's right. Me. Not you. Me."

Mycroft only stared at me. I could have heard a pin drop in that room with the silence. Finally, Mycroft sighed. "I won't have you banned."

"Thank you."

"And I won't try to make your life difficult. But if you are going to marry my brother, I have a warning to give you." Mycroft turned away, unlocking the door. "Don't hurt him or else I will make you disappear."

With that he left the room and I sunk down into the chair, burying my face in my hands. I was exhausted, mentally, physically, and emotionally. I glanced up at the clock on the wall. Nearly eleven. I sighed.

"One more meeting. One more and then I can go to bed."

I slowly made my way down the path into the zoo. It was 1:15. I cursed myself for being early. My phone buzzed and I opened the message, sighing heavily.

Tiger exhibit. Find me. -CAM

I began walking, following the signs to the tiger exhibit. I found him standing in front of the glass, hands clasped behind his back as he stared at the big cats prowling around the enclosure. I stood there with my arms crossed, glancing around, trying to make sure he'd held up his end of the bargain and left the security at home.

"Fascinating creatures tigers. So ferocious, so graceful. The ultimate predators in my opinion. I've always been fascinated with them. Much like I am fascinated with you Ms. Delilah McKinley."

"So you found out my name. Am I supposed to be impressed?" I stepped up to the glass, looking at the enclosure. "I'm sure you'll do your best to impress me, rattle off facts that anybody could look up on a computer."

Magnussen chuckled. "I see. Yes, I doubted that you would be highly impressed with anything that I could produce on you. I mean, you were a paralegal, your father dead, your sister the leader of a homegrown terrorist organization. But, the thing is, I can give you information on her. On what she has been doing for the past four years that you thought her dead. It's what you want, right?"

I refused to turn to look at him, knowing that if I did, he would know that that was exactly what I wanted. "You're wrong."

He stepped up next to me. "Unfortunately, my dear, I know that I'm right. And I have all of the information."

I turned to him. "I don't want it. Keep it. This was a waste of time, coming here to chat with you."

I began to walk away when he said, "Do you remember the Eye the week before your father died? How you both sat at the top together? Do you remember what she said to you up there?"

I froze before turning slowly to look at him. "How do you-?"

"'Delilah, things are going to change dear sister. Change for the better. This time next week, life will be better for us, both of us. Promise me something. Promise me that no matter what, you'll still love me?'" His voice was flat even as he recited what she had said to me. "But you didn't keep your promise, did you? No. Now you hate her, want to kill her. You're not a killer by nature, but she has made you into one. Haven't you ever wondered if that was her goal the entire time?"

"You son of a bitch. Who told you?"

"Nobody told me. I read it, learned it, and now I have it stored away where you'll never find it. Pathetic really how words and sentiments can have such a profound hold over someone." He gave me a smile, but I noted that it never touched his eyes. "I have something that I must take care of. You have my number."

"What do you want? For the information I mean?" I asked even as he began to walk away.

He turned to look at me, adjusting his glasses. "What are you offering?"

I smiled. "How about Mary Elizabeth Morstan?"

He laughed, clapping gleefully. "Now you're talking my language Ms. McKinley. Let's see if we can't make a deal."

"Sherlock?" I whispered even as I settled in next to his bed. "Sherlock, can you hear me?"

There was no response and I worriedly glanced up at his heart monitor. It said that his heart was beating at a steady sixty beats a minute. I frowned, taking his hand. Everyone had left to go and get supper. John was going to bring me back something, even though I'd insisted that I didn't need anything. My stomach was horribly upset from my lack of sleep, but I needed to stay awake, at least until I'd had a chance to hear Sherlock's voice.

"Sherlock, I know you're sleeping. I wanted to tell you…to tell you that I love you. I know I've said it a hundred times to you today, but I need you to know how much you mean to me." I took the necklace off from around my neck. "You know…I always kept this ring safe. No matter what, I've kept it on me at all times. Even when I was out in the freezing cold, starving and afraid, I never once considered selling this ring. And now I know why."

I got up from the right side of the bed, going to the other side. I took the ring off of the chain before taking his hand off of the bed. I ignored the flare up of pain as I slid my father's old wedding band onto Sherlock's ring finger, surprised to see that it was a perfect fit. I smiled, gently putting his hand down on the mattress.

"I should have known that it would fit you. Why wouldn't it?" I watched as his eyelids fluttered. "This is my gift to you, the ring of the greatest man I've ever known. Now it's on the finger of the greatest man I've ever loved. I love you."

"I…love you…too…" he croaked out, his eyes fluttering open to look at me.

I began to cry as I leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Sherlock…oh Sherlock, I was so scared."

"I know," he whispered.

"Did you hear what I said?"

He nodded, grimacing as he turned to look at me. "Yes."

"And?"

"As soon as I'm out of here, we'll begin planning a wedding."

I smiled. "Alright."

"Lila?"

"Hmmm?" I brushed the hair from his forehead.

"Lay with me?" He moved himself over on the bed, gasping from the pain. I frowned.

"I'll get in trouble, Sherlock."

"No you won't. Lay with me. I want my future wife in my arms."

I managed to situate myself next to him, careful not to pinch any of the tubes and wires coming off of him. "Comfortable?"

His fingers intertwined with mine and he turned his head to look at me. "Very."

"Good," I murmured, giving him a kiss. "Now go to sleep."

That's how we both drifted off to sleep, our fingers intertwined, finally sharing the same bed for the first time in a month.