*Hello lovelies! Here's the next chapter! Again, big thank you to Ariane DeVere for her amazing transcripts. She has done a fantastic job. A few things before you start reading. First off, this is a bit out of order from the episodes (the fight scene doesn't actually happen in the show until Christmas) so don't be confused by the change of order. Secondly, the mind palace that I created for Delilah is actually the one that I use for myself. Mine's a bit more expansive, but since Delilah just created hers, I started with the library that I use as the starting point in mine. Thirdly, there are probably only going to be two more chapters of this. Then I will be starting Freeing Her Soul, the sequel to Stealing His Heart. I hope everyone has been enjoying the story so far and continues to enjoy it. Talk to you soon!

Chapter 16: The Truth Will Set You Free

It had been five days since Sherlock had been shot. I'd spent nearly every waking minute at the hospital. I only left to go home and change and shower. And that was if Mrs. Hudson, John, or Molly was up there. Other than that, I refused to leave. I smiled at Sherlock even as he looked out the window.

"You alright?"

"Fine." He looked at me. "Have you eaten?"

"What? Yeah, of course I have."

"Liar," he said, giving me a small smile. "You've lost nearly half a stone. Go and get something to eat."

"I'm fine," I said. "Really."

"Don't make me have John come up here to force you to eat."

I sighed. "Fine. I will go and get something to eat. Do you want me to bring you anything?"

"A cigarette would be nice."

I laughed. "How about something that isn't going to get me thrown out?"

He gave me a small smile. "Don't want to join the dark side?"

"Been there, done that darling." I pressed a kiss to his cheek before getting up from my chair. "I'll be back in a bit. Stay out of trouble."

"Always."

I chuckled even as I walked out of the room. I headed down to the cafeteria, trying to picture their menu in my mind. I bumped into someone, stumbling back. I opened my mouth to apologize before I realized who it was.

"Mycroft. What are you doing here?"

"I came to get you to have lunch." He held up a bag. "Sherlock asked me to bring it to you."

"What is it?" I asked, eyeing him with suspicion.

Mycroft sighed. "It's not poison if that's what you're thinking. I wouldn't dream of poisoning you. It's fish and chips from that shop that you like."

I smiled. "Thank you Mycroft. Were you going to bring me these and leave?"

"Well, I did hope to see my brother for a bit."

"I'll take you up to him. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Do you promise to leave us be after you take me up to him?"

"Yes Mycroft. I will let you have a bit of bonding time." Mycroft still carried the bag with him even as we headed for the elevators. "You haven't been by to see him since the first day."

"Sorry, been a bit busy saving Britain," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Some of us can't afford to spend our free time at a hospital day and night."

"Don't be jealous dear. It doesn't look good on you," I replied, staring straight ahead at the doors of the elevator.

Mycroft glanced down at me. "So, have you seen the newspaper headlines yet?"

I shot him a sideways glance. "What newspaper headlines?"

"The ones where Janine is claiming that she's engaged to Sherlock."

"Sh-she…she what?"

"I must say, if I have to choose between you and her to be his fiancé, I would much rather it be you. At least you're not a money-grubbing whore."

"She's using their fake engagement to get money? Are you joking me?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I believe one of the headlines stated something along the lines of seven times a night in Baker Street. Tell me, is my brother really that proficient a lover?"

I gritted my teeth. "Not with her he isn't. That fucking bitch!"

We stepped out of the elevator and I noted that the door to Sherlock's room was mostly closed. Which was strange as I had it open before I'd left. So who had come in there?

I knew who it was as soon as I heard her voice. "Sherlock Holmes, you are a back-stabbing, heartless, manipulative bastard."

"And you, as it turns out, are a grasping, opportunistic, publicity-hungry tabloid whore."

"So we're good then!"

"No we are not!" I snarled, stepping into the room, Mycroft following behind me, closing the door. "You fucking cunt! How dare you exploit him for your own personal gain!"

"Oooh a wee bit testy are we? What, mad because he wanted someone better than you? Don't want to be his maid anymore?"

"A wee bit- are you fucking serious right now?!" I shouted. "A wee bit testy? I'll show you testy you disgusting-!"

I lunged for her, fist flying, connecting with her stomach. She doubled over and I was bringing my knee up into her face. Even as she dropped to her knees, I brought my foot up into her chest, knocking her backwards into the wall. I began to walk towards her, fist pulled back to land another blow, when Mycroft grabbed my arm. "Enough Delilah."

I looked at the woman leaned dazedly up against the wall, lip bleeding. She shook herself, staring up at me. "I'm going to have you put in jail."

"No you're not." Mycroft said calmly, going to stand between myself and Janine. "And do you know why?" Janine looked at him angrily, touching her upper lip with her fingers. "Because I will have so much evidence of treason and domestic terrorism put onto your hard drives that you'll be locked away in solitary confinement for years to come until your execution. And nothing you do will help you." Mycroft gave her that same wolfish grin he had given me when we'd had our meeting. "Now, you can finish your conversation with Sherlock while Delilah and I have lunch in that corner by the window or you can get up and leave. But if I so much as hear a whisper that you are going to the police, I will make your life hell."

I glanced at Sherlock, seeing the look of surprise on his face, eyes wide. I heard Janine getting up from the floor. "You'll pay for this. Both of you."

"Oh, I highly doubt that," Mycroft voice was soft even as he watched her heading for the door. I glared at her. "Good-bye for good Janine."

She opened the door before turning to look at Sherlock. "Just one thing. You shouldn't have lied to me. I know what kind of man you are…but we could have been friends."

"Only in your wildest dreams bitch," I said, going to stand at the foot of Sherlock's bed, blocking her view of him. "I'm the one with the real ring, not you. Enjoy your cubic zirconia ring we picked out for you. It cost all of ten pound. Surprised it hasn't turned your finger green yet." To prove my point, I raised my left hand, revealing the ring that Sherlock bought me. "Now get out and don't come back."

Janine left, swishing down the hall. I could see the nurses and other patients staring at her bloody lip, but they said nothing. I closed the door all the way, turning to Sherlock. "Sorry you had to see that luv. I was…well…a bit upset to be honest."

"Never thought I'd see the day where you and my brother would work together."

"Neither did I," Mycroft grumbled. I realized he still had the bag of fish and chips in his hand. I took it from him, going to sit in the corner. "We were going to have a private conversation, remember Delilah?"

"And you can. I'll be sitting in the corner with my head phones in. Won't hear a bit of the conversation you two have."

To prove my point, I sat down, plugging my headphones into my phone. I turned the music on before I took my food out. I could tell by Mycroft's posture that he was irritated and I could, even with my music on, hear his sigh. I chuckled, opening the take-out box and eating what Mycroft had brought me. It didn't have the extra salt like I liked, but that was alright. I was still perfectly content.

I glanced out the window, catching the figure of Janine walking across the parking lot. It was like watching a bad dream finally fade after a long time of having nightmares. I continued to watch people pass by underneath, eating as I observed, trying to do what Sherlock did. He'd been teaching me in-between doses of his morphine, how to see everything instead of just the basics. It had kept him from getting bored and I was enjoying learning.

My eyelids were beginning to droop when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I whirled to see Mycroft standing next to me. I yanked one of the headphones out. "Come again?"

"I said, Sherlock and I are done having our conversation if you would like to go back to him."

I nodded, getting up from the table and stretching. "Aye, I will. I believe John and Lestrade were coming by later to relieve me so I could go and take a shower."

Mycroft nodded. "If you should be bothered by that woman again or should the police come questioning, give me a ring." He began to exit before poking his head back through the door. "Oh, and consider my keeping you out of jail your engagement gift from me."

I gave him a small smile. "It was a most wonderful present. Very…therapeutic."

Mycroft closed the door, but I could swear that I saw a very faint smile on his lips as he did. I turned to Sherlock. "Look, I'm sorry about hurting Janine. But seeing her in here with you alone, it-"

"It's fine. She cut my morphine off anyway." He patted the edge of the bed. "Come sit. I want to speak with you."

"About what?" I asked, going and sitting next to him. He took my broken hand in his, running his fingers over the bandaging. "Sherlock, about what?"

"How do you feel about dogs?"

"I like them well enough. They're good companions to have around. Loyal. Intelligent." I saw him raise an eyebrow. "Depending on the breed."

"True. And how do you feel about Irish setters?"

"Beautiful dogs. My Sampson was an Irish setter. Got him when I was about seven. We had to put him down due to health issues. Broke my heart."

Sherlock smiled. "Well, that's another similarity for us then. I had a dog named RedBeard growing up, an Irish setter. I was thinking…maybe once I'm out of here we could go and find one."

My eyes widened in surprise and I let out a squeal of glee. "Really?! We can get a dog?"

"Yes, really. I was thinking about it and…well, maybe having a companion for you at the flat when I'm away on business wouldn't be such a bad idea."

"Or for you when I'm teaching classes and working at the clinic. We'll have to clear it with Mrs. Hudson though."

"She won't mind, so long as we take care of it."

"This is fantastic! Oh, Sherlock, I'm so excited. I can't wait!" I felt like a kid at Christmas. "Do you want a boy or a girl?"

"A girl. They're more protective. And I've already had a male dog, as have you. Well, it's settled then. Delilah, why don't you go back to the flat, maybe look at some dog breeders, take a nap? You look tired."

"I'm fine Sherlock," I said, trying to stifle a yawn.

"You're exhausted. You've been here since I was found. You need to take a break. I promise you, I'll be fine."

"But what about Ma- what about the person who shot you? What if they come back?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at me. "What were you going to say?"

"Nothing. Nothing. You're right, I must be exhausted. I'll go and call a cab." I leaned down, giving him a kiss. He reached up with his left hand, cupping the back of my neck. I felt the cold metal of his ring brush against my bare skin and I smiled against his lips. "You'd better keep out of trouble Sherlock. I mean it. John and Lestrade should swing by this evening. I'll be back whenever I wake up."

"Get some sleep in our bed please. You need the rest."

"Yes sir." I got up from the bed, giving him a mock salute before smiling. "I mean it Sherlock. You'd better keep out of trouble."

"What am I going to do? Go gallivanting around London with a bullet wound in my torso?"

"Knowing you? Probably." I opened the door, glancing out into the hallway before turning back to him. "I love you Sherlock."

"I love you too. Now go and sleep. I'll see you soon."

I left the hospital, flagging down a taxi. I took it back to the flat, finding Mrs. Hudson upstairs in the living room. "Oh! I'm sorry dear, I didn't realize you were coming home. I was doing a bit of cleaning to help you out."

"It's fine Mrs. Hudson. You own the place." I gave her a smile, gently taking the furniture polish from her hands. "How have you been? I feel like I haven't spoken to you in so long."

"I've been doing well. How's Sherlock?"

"Awake and talking, perhaps more than he should." I watched as she picked up a copy of the bridal magazine I'd bought the other day. She began flipping through the pages. "See anything you like in there?"

"A few things. Oh, if only I were your age and could marry a good man like John or Sherlock." She looked up at me with a smile. "Should I go ahead and pitch it dear? I'm sure it's left over from Mary and John's wedding. With Sherlock dating that other woman, I'm sure you don't-" She froze when I raised up my left hand, tugging the bandaging down to reveal my finger. "Is that-?"

I nodded and I watched as her eyes widened. "Oh dear. Oh dear, I need to sit down."

I grabbed her elbow, helping her into Sherlock's chair, kneeling in front of her. "Mrs. Hudson, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Who…who gave you that? It wasn't-" I gave her a knowing smile and she gasped, resting a hand on her chest. "Oh my goodness! You and Sherlock! Oh my! But I thought-"

"Part of a case Mrs. Hudson," I said softly, patting her knee. "I'm going to go and make us some tea. You stay right there, calm your nerves."

She laughed. "Oh I'm a right mess at the moment, aren't I?"

"It's fine. I thought you already knew and that's what you were coming up here for," I called over my shoulder even as I grabbed the kettle, filling it with water. "I thought Sherlock had told you when you'd gone to see him the other day."

"No. He mentioned something about possibly getting a puppy, but he never mentioned anything about getting engaged. When did he do it? How did he do it? You must be so excited!"

"I am," I replied, turning to find Mrs. Hudson standing in the doorway. "I'm very excited. Sherlock and I haven't done much planning, not until the case is finished. I've been looking at gowns, but that's about the extent of it. We've been engaged, oh, I don't know, a little over a month now? And he did it over dinner."

Mrs. Hudson was grinning from ear to ear even as I took the kettle off. "You two will make a lovely couple. Will you still live here?"

"I'm sure we will. At least until we plan on having little ones." Her eyes widened. "Oh no, no worries. I'm not expecting or anything, so you don't have to think about having little babies in the flat any time soon."

"I wouldn't mind a baby. I adore children. Wish I could have had some of my own. But I'm so happy for you two. You make a lovely pair."

I smiled, handing her her cup of tea. "Thank you Mrs. Hudson. I was…well, I think Sherlock and I were both sort of hoping for your blessing. I'm glad to hear that you approve."

"Well of course I do! I approved when you two were kissing under the mistletoe. Why wouldn't I approve of this?"

I laughed. "You're right. Oh! We've decided on the kind of dog we're going to get. I figured that I would run it by you first."

"It's not a Rottweiler, is it?"

"No, it's not," I said with a chuckle. "It's an Irish setter. I adore the dog breed and Sherlock had one as a child as well, so I'm guessing that he is quite fond of them too. We'll be picking it up after he gets out of the hospital. Hopefully that won't be too long."

I glanced down at my phone, having felt it vibrate in my pocket. I read the message quickly before snapping it shut. "Mrs. Hudson, I believe I'm going to take a shower. I haven't had one in a couple of days. Then I think that I'll get a short nap."

"Oh of course dear! I'll be next door at the sandwich shop. Call me if you need anything!"

"I will Mrs. Hudson. Talk to you soon." I watched as she left, going down the stairs to her flat. I heard the front door open and Sherlock climbed his way slowly up to the flat. I ushered him in, forcing him to sit down in his chair. "What in God's name are you doing here? And don't even try to tell me that you were released. I know that that's a lie."

"I need your help."

"You need a good smack in the back of your head for your foolishness is what you need."

"I know you know about Mary."

I froze before cursing myself softly. "Of course you do. Damn my brain for not thinking about what I was saying."

"Lila, I need you to help me. She made me swear not to tell John, but I can't let him be with her. She's too dangerous for him." Sherlock took a deep breath and I could tell that he was in a substantial amount of pain. "I've already set up a meeting place for this evening, after John and Lestrade discover I'm gone. I need you to act a little bit longer, don't let on that you know where I'm going. If you haven't…" I watched as he grimaced in pain. "If you haven't heard from me by three o'clock this morning, come find me."

"Sherlock, I'm coming with you!"

"No! You're not going to be put into harm's way."

"A little late for that," I muttered. "I confronted Mary when I figured it out."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, looking impressed. "And how did you figure that out?"

"I put two and two together. We went out after you and John left. I mentioned Magnussen and she seemed a bit…off at the mention of his name. I also told her that he had a meeting. And who was held hostage before he could make it to his meeting? Magnussen. And who had told me that she had a meeting that she needed to attend at the same time that Magnussen's was? Mary. I'm assuming that she-"

"Went over there to negotiate for whatever information that Magnussen may have on her and when he refused, she beat him, tied him up, held him hostage. I interrupted and-"

"She shot you," I said darkly, feeling the bile of anger rising up in my throat. "I warned her, if she tried to hurt you again I would kill her."

"No." Sherlock took my hand and I could tell he was in a lot of pain. "You're not going to turn into a killer, especially not for me."

"Sherlock, she hurt you. You nearly died. Do you really think that I'm going to just…let that slide?"

"There are worse things you can do to a person than killing them Lila. Now, I need your help. John's chair, I need you to get it for me and bring it up here. Also, put this on the table." He produced a bottle of perfume from his pocket and I wrinkled my nose. "It's her perfume. He'll recognize it almost immediately."

I nodded. "Is there anything else?"

"No. I'll text you the address where I'm hiding out. Again, three o'clock, if you don't hear from me come get me."

"Fine." I let out a long sigh. "What did I tell you about staying out of trouble?"

He gave me a small smile. "You love it."

"I love you, not your troublemaking ways."

He gave me a soft kiss. "I'll be fine. I'll see you later. Like I said, act surprised when they call you."

I rolled my eyes. "You owe me Sherlock."

"I know. I'll be going now."

"Be careful please," I murmured, watching as he headed down the stairs.

I waited until he'd left before I went downstairs to where we kept our storage. I found John's chair underneath all of the Christmas decorations. I dragged it up the stairs, putting it back where it had been when I'd first moved in. I set the perfume on the table before laying down on the couch, closing my eyes. Once this was all over, I was going to sleep for a week.

I felt my phone vibrating on my chest and I groaned. I hit the answer button. "Hello?"

"Delilah?"

"Greg. Hi. How're you doing?"

"Not good. Not good at all. John asked me to call you as he's busy getting in contact with Mary and Mycroft."

"What's wrong?" I asked, trying to make myself worried. "Has something happened?"

"Well, Sherlock…he's…he's gone."

"What do you mean he's gone? Y-y-you mean he's…he's dead?"

"What? No! Oh God no! Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't think…no, he's gone from the hospital and nobody knows where he went. Has he tried to contact you?"

"Erm, no. I…I don't think so. I fell asleep. I'll be right out to help you all look. He shouldn't be out of bed."

"It's fine. You don't need to help us. John will probably be back at the flat soon anyway. We're trying to find out if anyone knows where he might have gone." There was a pause before Greg said, "Are you sure you haven't heard anything from him? I mean, you are his fiancé after all."

I sighed. "Greg, every time someone shows up unexpectedly or disappears you always ask me if I've seen them. No. I haven't seen Sherlock. Please…you have to find him before he gets hurt."

"Will do. I'll keep you posted. And, er, sorry about always accusing you. You just…seem to know more than you let on sometimes."

"Go. Look for him. Let me know what you find."

My phone buzzed as soon as I ended the call. I opened the message, seeing that it was from Sherlock.

The empty house. –SH

Fine. Are you feeling alright? That's not a good area for you to be in by yourself. Aren't you worried that Mary might hurt you? –DM

Me? Worried? Haha. You must be thinking of someone else. I'm fine. Stop worrying. –SH

That's part of the job description of a fiancé. Sherlock…come home. We can tell John together. She can't take on both of us. –DM

He won't believe us. I have to get her to say it. I will be fine. –SH

If you say so. You are in huge trouble when this is all over. –DM

I know. –SH

I shook my head at the messages. He was absolutely impossible. But I supposed that he knew his body better than anyone else. I decided that while I waited I would practice going to my own mind palace. Sherlock had been teaching me that as well, telling me that it would help with cases and that he thought I would be able to better handle it than John. He'd told me that he'd tried with John and it just hadn't worked.

I sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room, closing my eyes, visualizing the space that I'd chosen. When I'd visited my grandparents in the summer, I'd tended to stay in their library for most of the time. It was a peaceful place, with two long windows on the wall opposite when you walked in. On either side were bookcases, floor to ceiling, filled with books. A table had sat in the middle of the room, covered in puzzles that my grandparents enjoyed working on. I'd managed to get it to the point where I could access the library in my mind quickly and easily. Now it was a matter of filling the empty shelves with books.

'Start simple,' Sherlock said, laying in the hospital bed. 'You haven't been doing this as long as I have. Choose one room that you know well. Try accessing the room over and over. Always start in the same place and work your way out from there. I doubt you'll be able to become as proficient as I am, but I have no doubt you can do it.'

I smiled. I was determined to become as proficient as Sherlock. That was the entire goal.

When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in that library. I walked to the shelf on the left, looking at the dozen or so books sitting on the shelves at the very top. I grabbed the ladder, wheeling it over to climb up. On the spines of the books were the titles, hand-written on a piece of tape.

"Birthdays, no. Childhood memories, definitely not. Time on the streets, not something I want to examine today." My finger rested against the spine of a fat black book and I tapped it. "There it is. Dreams."

I took it off of the shelf, climbing down the ladder with ease. I set the book on the table, flipping through it, looking for the last entry I'd written in. I fully opened it, watching as the dream popped up on the table like a 3-D projection. I inspected it, seeing the playground of my childhood, Olivia sitting on the swings, me standing in front of her. I could see that we were talking, but I couldn't make out the words.

'Focus. What would you need to do that?'

"Volume controls," I murmured. "Thanks Sherlock."

I looked down to see that dial for volume had appeared below the book. I turned it up, wincing as I heard Olivia's voice.

"But let me fill you in one what's going to happen before I kill you," she said.

I watched as I drew my weapon, pointing it at her. "You mean before I kill you. I don't care if I die, so long as I take you with me."

'Did I really say that?' I thought to myself even as I watched ten dots appear on my chest. 'Was I really going to kill her?'

"Oh, so predictable. Will you put the gun down so we can at least discuss things under less hostile circumstances?"

'No,' I thought to myself, watching in horror as I lowered the gun. 'If only you knew that death was better than what you'd go through by lowering that weapon.'

"Fine. Since you're going to kill me anyway, I may as well hear what you have to say."

Vaguely, in the distance, I could hear the front door open. The part of my mind that I kept in the flat willed the person away, not wanting to be disturbed.

"Good! Because I can promise you, things are going to get much more interesting here in London town. We'll start with burning you. And then my boyfriend has something very special in store for yours."

I could hear the footsteps coming up the stairs now and I cursed them. I needed to know. I had to.

I looked around the table, trying to find something, anything, to speed up the memory. I knew that the answer was there in that dream. I was beginning to grow panicked. I had to know.

'Calm down,' Sherlock's voice echoed around me. 'You're of no use to anyone when you're not calm. What is it that you want?'

"Fast-forward," I whispered, glancing down to see that a large fast-forward button had appeared beside the volume control. "Perfect."

I turned the dial forward, watching as the image in front of me sped up. I slowed it down when I watched her approach me. "Are you sure that you want to know?"

Both projection-me and real me nodded. She leaned down to my ear and I held my breath even as I heard someone approaching me. Their hand touched my shoulder and I was jerked back to reality.

"James Moriarty," I whispered even as I opened my eyes.

"I'm sorry, come again?" John asked and I could see the worry in his eyes.

"Nothing. Nothing. Was just…meditating. Trying to keep calm with Sherlock being missing. Have you got any leads yet?" I asked, getting to my feet.

"Nothing," John said, beginning to pace the living room. I saw Greg and Mrs. Hudson standing in the kitchen. "He knew who shot him. The bullet wound was here," John pointed to his lower chest, "so he was facing whoever it was."

I went to sit on the couch, watching as John paced. I pulled my phone out, typing quickly.

John's here. –DM

Good. Let me know when he begins to figure it out. And before you ask, yes, I'm still alright. –SH

"Protecting the shooter? Why?" I heard Greg ask as I looked up.

"Well, protecting someone then. But why would he care? He's Sherlock. The only person he would bother protecting is Del and she was too shocked by him being shot to even remotely be the shooter." I watched as he sat down in his armchair. He seemed to do a double-take before frowning, patting the arms.

He has sat in his chair. –DM

"Call me if you hear anything. Don't hold out on me, John," Greg said. "Call me, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, right."

Has he figured it out yet? –SH

No. –DM

"Bye then," Mrs. Hudson said to Greg as he left before turning to us. "John? Delilah? Need a cuppa?"

"Mrs. Hudson," John began, turning to the landlady. "Wh-why does Sherlock think that I'll be moving back in here?"

"Oh, yes, he's put your chair back again, hasn't he?"

John looked up at me. "Do you know anything about it?"

"Nope. I was sleeping."

"Huh."

"That's nice!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed, walking back with the kettle. "Looks much better."

I followed John's gaze, observing that it had fallen on the small crescent moon bottle sitting on the table. I quickly typed, He has seen the bottle. –DM

Almost immediately after I'd sent the message, John's phone began to buzz.

"That's your phone, isn't it?" Mrs. Hudson asked, going to pick up the phone from the dining table. "It's Sherlock, John. It's Sherlock."

She walked back to John, holding it out to him. I watched as John's gaze turned towards the window before he turned his head back to the bottle.

"John! You have to answer it!"

Tell him to answer the phone. –SH

"John," I said softly, getting up from my place on the couch, taking the phone from Mrs. Hudson. "Answer the phone. Answer the phone and you'll get your explanation."

He looked up at me and I could see the pain in his eyes. John shakily took the phone from my hands. "You knew."

I nodded. "I did. Let him explain John. I know it hurts, but let him explain."

John answered the phone and I went upstairs, grabbing my gun and holster, throwing a jacket on over my shoulders. I knew that the night was only beginning and that things were about to get a whole lot worse before they got better.

I stood next to Sherlock, glancing at him worriedly. He was pale and sweating. I could tell that he was in an excruciating amount of pain, even if he didn't let on. I could see her across the street, walking past Bill. I'd been introduced quickly when I'd taken John down to the empty houses to set everything up. He and I had recognized each other from our time on the streets, but I said nothing and neither did he. I watched as Mary grabbed the earpiece from Bill.

"Where are you?" I heard her ask on the other end of the line as I leaned in close to hear.

"Can't you see me?" Sherlock asked and I could see the small smile on his lips.

"Well, what am I looking for?"

"The lie, the lie of Leinster Gardens, hidden in plain sight." My grip tightened on my pistol as she stepped a few feet into the road. "Hardly anyone notices. People live here for years and never see it, but if you are what I think you are, it'll take you less than a minute." She continued to walk down the road slowly. "The houses, Mary. Look at the houses."

"How did you know I'd come here?"

"I knew you'd talk to the people no one else would bother with."

I heard her laugh and I had to clamp down on my tongue to keep from saying anything. "I thought I was being clever."

"You're always clever, Mary. I was relying on that. I planted the information for you to find." Sherlock began to sag and I positioned myself underneath his arm, keeping him steady. He looked down at me, giving me a smile. "Thirty seconds."

"What am I looking at?"

"No door knobs, no letter box, painted windows. Twenty-three and twenty-four Leinster Gardens…the empty houses." I watched as she stood in front of the house, looking around. "They were demolished years ago to make way for the London Underground, a vent for the old steam trains. Only the very front section of the house remains. It's just a façade." He took in a deep breath and I could see the pain in his face even as I tried to hold him up. "Remind you of anyone, Mary? A façade. Sorry. I never could resist a touch of drama."

I looked at her wedding picture projected on the front of the house. I had to fight back a snarl of rage at her image. Now was the time to see if she would fall for the trap. I held my breath, watching as she began to walk slowly towards the houses.

"Do come in. It's a little cramped."

"Do you own this place?"

"Mmm. I won it in a card game with the Clarence House Cannibal. Nearly cost me my kidneys, but fortunately I had a…" he began to sag again and I rubbed his back, forcing him to take a deep breath. "A straight flush. Quite a gambler, that woman."

I watched as Mary walked inside. I knew the layout of the house. She'd be in the long corridor, no doubt seeing the shape sitting on a chair. I closed my eyes, sending a silent prayer up even as I helped Sherlock stand.

"What do you want, Sherlock?"

I looked up at him, seeing that determined look come into his eye. "Mary Morstan was stillborn in October 1972. Her gravestone is in Chiswick Cemetery where, five years ago, you acquired her name and date of birth and thereafter her identity." I could picture her in my mind walking slowly along the corridor towards the figure in the chair. "That's why you don't have friends from before that date." Sherlock paused, catching his breath. "It's an old enough technique, known to the kinds of people who can recognize a skip-code on sight and have extraordinarily retentive memories."

"You were very slow."

"How good a shot are you?" He asked and I heard her cock the pistol.

"How badly do you want to find out?"

"If I die here, my body will be found in a building with your face projected on the front of it. Delilah will know what the means immediately and will come after you with everything that she has. Even Scotland Yard could get somewhere with that."

We began to move slowly towards the house, keeping low to the ground. I helped Sherlock the best I could. "I want to know how good you are. Go on. Show me. The doctor's wife must be a little bored by now."

We were through the front door and I watched as she took a coin from her purse. She tossed the coin into the air, took aim, and I heard the distinct sound of a gunshot and of metal striking metal. Sherlock straightened himself up even as we looked at Mary. "May I see?"

I raised my gun as I stood behind Sherlock, aiming it at her as she laughed quietly. "It's a dummy. I suppose it was a fairly obvious trick." She walked towards us a few paces before putting her foot against the coin, sending it sliding across the floor.

Sherlock bent down before I could, picking up the coin. I could hear the pain in his voice. "And yet, over a distance of six feet, you failed to make a kill shot." I stepped up next to him in case he should need to lean on me, keeping the gun trained on Mary. "Enough to hospitalize me, not enough to kill me. That wasn't a miss." Sherlock paused, placing one hand on my shoulder to steady himself and I watched as he gave her a small smile. "That was surgery."

Mary looked up at us, glancing between the two of us before looking down at the floor again. Sherlock took a deep breath. "I'll take the case."

"What case?" She asked.

"Yours." I could hear the anger in his voice. "Why didn't you come to me in the first place?"

"Because John can't ever know that I lied to him. It would break him and I would lose him forever. And Sherlock, I will never let that happen."

Sherlock turned to walk away and I watched as she took a step forward. "Mary, if you take one more step I will shoot you."

"Del. I thought that was you."

"Who else would it be protecting him from you you lying bitch?"

"Please," Mary said and I heard Sherlock turn back to her. "Please understand. There is nothing in this world that I would not do to stop that happening."

"Sorry," Sherlock said, turning away once more, going to the fuse box. "Not that obvious a trick." He flipped the switch on and I blinked rapidly, trying to get my eyes to adjust. I watched as her face filled with dread and I could see behind her as John got out of the chair, fixing his coat. She gasped at the sight of her husband and for a split second I felt guilty.

"Now talk, and sort it out. Do it quickly," Sherlock said and I lowered my gun, knowing that she wouldn't try anything now that John was there. Neither of them moved and Sherlock sighed. "Baker Street. Now."

I helped Sherlock out of the house, dialing the number for a cab, giving them the address. We stood out on the curb, waiting patiently. I glanced up at him. "You look like hell."

"I feel like it," he admitted. "I wonder how things are going in there."

"Well, I haven't heard any gunshots. Do you want me to disarm her when she gets out here?"

"It's not her I'm worried about." Sherlock let out a hiss of breath and I grabbed him around the waist, helping him sit on the curb. "Damn that woman."

"I know. I'm sorry. Let me look."

"I'm fine. Just need to sit for a bit. When is that cab going to be here?"

"Five minutes at most. They had a driver right around the corner."

"Good. Good. I need some morphine. Wouldn't have any would you?"

"Left it in my other purse," I said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze with my left despite the pain. I'd taken all of the bandaging off, having grown irritated with it. "You need to go back to the hospital."

"Not yet. I need to make sure that those two aren't going to kill each other."

I sighed. "You're stubborn."

"So are you."

I saw him smiling down at me and I gave him a smile in return. "Trying to charm me into not being upset with you I see."

"Is it working?"

"Maybe," I said, giving him a quick peck. "Or maybe I'm saving my lecture for a later date."

"Well, let's hope it's working then."

I watched as headlights rounded the corner. I got up from the curb. "I'm going to go and get them. Stay here."

"As if I'd be able to go anywhere else."

"Come on you two. Cab's here. Back to the flat." I watched as John pushed past Mary, giving her a look of disgust as he walked past. Mary was crying and again I felt a wave of guilt. She stopped in front of me.

"I hope you're happy with what you two have done."

We arrived back at the flat and I helped Sherlock up the stairs. He was barely holding it together and I was growing worried. I knew he needed to go back to the hospital as soon as possible, but he had insisted that he didn't need any help. I could hear Mrs. Hudson upstairs even as John and Mary entered the flat. Sherlock leaned himself up against the bannister as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Are you going to be alright?"

"Fine. Call an ambulance in fifteen minutes. It takes about eight for them to get anywhere in this city. That should be enough time for them to have their row."

"Oh, Sherlock! Delilah! Oh, good gracious, you look terrible."

"Get me some morphine from your kitchen. I've run out."

"I don't have any morphine!"

"Then what exactly is the point of you?" Sherlock said angrily and I wrapped his arm around my shoulders, trying to get him to put his weight on me.

"What is going on?" Mrs. Hudson asked, looking around at everyone.

"Bloody good question," John growled from the kitchen.

"The Watsons are about to have a domestic and fairly quickly, I hope, because we've got work to do."

"Oh, I have a better question," John said, pacing towards Mary. "Is everyone I've ever met a psychopath?"

"Yes," I said instantly.

Sherlock's eyes lifted to the ceiling before he said, "Yes."

Mary gave a tiny nod in agreement and Sherlock nodded. "Good that we've settled that. Anyway, we-"

John whirled on Sherlock and I. "SHUT UP!"

I jumped back at John's shout, leaving Sherlock to stand on his own. Mrs. Hudson put one hand to her mouth at John's shout. "Oh!"

"And stay shut up, because this is not funny." I watched as he gave Sherlock an angry smile. "Not this time.

"I didn't say it was funny," Sherlock replied and I went to help him stand once more.

"You," John said, turning to face Mary. "What have I ever done…hmmm? My whole life, to deserve you?"

Sherlock leaned against the door post and I glanced up at him worriedly. "Everything."

John turned to look at Sherlock. "Sherlock, I've told you. Shut. Up."

"Oh, I mean it, seriously. Everything, everything you've ever done is what you did." John began to cross to Sherlock and I put myself in between them.

"John. Get control of yourself," I snapped.

"You shut up too! You knew as much as he did. Sherlock, one more word and you will not need morphine."

"You were a doctor who went to war." John fixed his eyes on Sherlock even as I continued to stand between them. "You're a man who couldn't stay in the suburbs for more than a month without storming a crack den and beating up a junkie. Your best friend is a sociopath who solves crimes as an alternative to getting high." Sherlock raised a hand and waved at John. "That's me by the way. Hello. That same best friend has a fiancé who is a top-notch thief with a fiery temper and is a bit overprotective when it comes to her future husband. Even the landlady used to run a drug cartel."

"It was my husband's cartel. I was just typing," Mrs. Hudson protested.

"And exotic dancing." I fought back a giggle.

"Sherlock Holmes, if you've been YouTube-ing-"

"John, you are addicted to a certain lifestyle. You're abnormally attracted to dangerous situations and people, so is it truly such a surprise that the woman you've fallen in love with conforms to that pattern?"

I could see the tears in John's eyes even as he pointed at Mary. "But she wasn't supposed to be like that. Why is she like that?"

"Because you chose her," Sherlock answered.

I watched as John's world crumbled in that very moment. I wanted to give him a hug. He didn't deserve any of this at all. I moved forward to give him an embrace when Sherlock grabbed my hand, shaking his head. I sighed.

"Why is everything," he walked around the living room and I could see the fury in his eyes, "always MY FAULT?!"

John kicked the small table, sending it skidding across the floor. I let out a yelp of surprise and Sherlock even jumped a little at John's outburst.

"Oh, the neighbors!" Mrs. Hudson cried, hurrying away.

I looked up at Sherlock who leaned down to whisper. "Call them. Ask them to bring morphine. Tell them that there has been a shooting."

I nodded, walking down the hallway, pulling my phone out of my pocket, dialing 999 quickly. I explained to the operator what was going on even as I heard them moving around in the living room. I hung up the phone, returning to the living room to find everyone sitting and staring.

"A.G.R.A. What's that?"

Mary glanced at John before clearing her throat. "Er…my initials. Everything about who I was on there." Mary looked at John and I could see the pain on her face. "If you love me, don't read it in front of me."

"Why?" John asked.

"Because you won't love me when you've finished…and I don't want to see that happen." She turned to Sherlock. "How much do you know already? How much has she told you?"

"Not a damn thing," I said. "And you'd do well to watch your tone with me. While they may be listening to you, I already know what you are."

Sherlock cleared his throat, glancing back at me. "By your skill set, you are, or were, an intelligence agent. Your accent is currently English, but I suspect you are not. You're on the run from something. You've used your skills to disappear, but Magnussen knows your secret, which is why you were going to kill him. I assume you befriended Janine," Sherlock grimaced, shifting uncomfortably in his chair, "in order to get close to him."

"Oh, you can talk!" Sherlock gave her a small smile.

"Ohhh, look at you two." John pointed his finger between both of them. "You should have gotten married. I think I'd rather have Del anyway, seeing as I know when she's lying."

Mary looked at John in shock and Sherlock blinked a couple of times. I stared at John, shaking my head before going to kneel next to Sherlock.

"The stuff Magnussen has on me, I would go to prison for the rest of my life."

"Wouldn't be such a bad place for someone like you," I muttered under my breath.

"So you were just going to kill him," John said, shaking his head.

"People like Magnussen should be killed. Just like people like Olivia should be killed. That's why there are people like me."

"Perfect!" John exclaimed, gently punching the arm of his chair. "So that's what you were? An assassin?" He turned to look ta Sherlock and I. "How could I not see that?"

"You did see that," Mary replied and I watched as that murderous smile reappeared on his face. "And you married me. Because he's right. It's what you like."

Sherlock gave my hand a gentle squeeze, looking quite displeased with himself for being right. I rubbed his arm, trying to sooth him, knowing that him being upset wasn't good for him. "So…Mary," Sherlock began, pausing for a moment. "Any documents that Magnussen has concerning yourself, you want extracted and returned."

"Why would you help me?"

"Sherlock," I said warningly, knowing where he was going with this. "Sherlock, no."

"Because…you saved my life."

"Sor-sorry, what?"

"Sherlock, what are you talking about?" I murmured, watching as he glanced down at me before wheezing for breath.

"When I happened on you and Magnussen…you had a problem. More specifically, you had a witness." I watched the blood drain out of Sherlock's face and I prayed for the ambulance to hurry up. "The solution, of course, was simple. Kill us both and leave. However, sentiment got the better of you. One precisely-calculated shot to incapacitate me in the hope that it would buy you more time to negotiate my silence." I could see it in my mind now, the three of them in a room, Mary pulling the trigger, shooting Sherlock in the chest. From that distance, she should have killed him. A steady hand like hers wouldn't have missed a kill shot. "Of course, you couldn't shoot Magnussen. On the night that both of us broke into the building, your own husband would become a suspect, so…you calculated…that Magnussen…would use the fact of your involvement rather than sharing the information with the police…as is his M.O. And then you left the way you came."

I looked at Sherlock, seeing the pain on his face. "Sherlock. Stop talking, you're doing more damage to yourself."

"Have I missed anything?" He asked Mary, ignoring my request.

"How did she save your life?" John asked.

"She phoned the ambulance.

"I phoned the ambulance," John said through gritted teeth.

I could hear the sirens in the distance and I let out a sigh of relief.

"You didn't find me for another five minutes. Left to you, I would have died. The average arrival time for London ambulance is," Sherlock looked down at his watch and I turned as the clatter of feet was heard up the stairs.

"Did somebody call an ambulance?" The paramedic asked.

"I did. He's right there."

"Eight minutes," Sherlock finished as John stood up, looking at them in confusion. "Did you bring any morphine? She should have asked on the phone."

"We were told there was a shooting," the paramedic said, looking puzzled.

"Yes, there was, last week…but I believe I'm bleeding internally and my pulse is very erratic." Sherlock put his hands on the arm of the chair, going to stand up. "You may need to re-start my heart on the way."

My heart began to race and I watched as his knees buckled. John and I moved forwards, going to catch him. I watched as Mary moved to help, but I shot her a warning glare. The paramedics rushed forward.

"Come on, Sherlock. Come on, Sherlock," John said as we held him

"Easy darling. You're in good hands. Relax," I murmured, watching as the paramedics put their bags down, helping take his weight.

"John? Delilah?"

"Hush darling," I said, struggling to keep him on his feet.

"No. John, Lila. Magnussen is all that matters now. You can trust Mary. She saved my life."

I rolled my eyes and John quietly said, "She shot you."

"Er, mixed messages, I grant you."

I winced as he cried out in pain, beginning to fall. We lowered him to the floor and I felt myself beginning to grow panicked as his breathing came in shallow gasps. The tears touched my eyes and I wiped them away impatiently with my sleeve. "Sherlock?"

"Sherlock? Sherlock," John said, trying to rouse him. "All right, take him."

We both released him and Sherlock groaned and whimpered. I had to look away, going to stand at the window. I couldn't see him like that. It broke my heart. I heard them take him away and I turned to see John staring at Mary, breathing heavily with his teeth slightly bared. As they carried Sherlock out, I stepped between them, breaking John's line of sight. I looked at Mary, seeing the anguish on her face.

"Mary, I suggest that if you would like to try and save your marriage and any semblance of our friendship, you leave this flat and don't come back for the rest of the week." The woman nodded slowly. "I also suggest that you not go and see Sherlock because if you go anywhere near him, I will shoot you on sight. Is that understood?"

Again, she nodded and I watched as she left slowly, tossing one last backwards glance at John before leaving. I let out a shaky breath, turning to look at John, who was trembling with rage. The tears were there in his eyes again and I approached him slowly.

"John? John, look at me." He continued to stare straight ahead, as if looking through me. "John!"

His eyes snapped up to look at me. "What?"

"Easy…come here." I opened my arms to him and he stared at me. "Seriously, come here."

I watched as he began to crumble and he approached me, tears streaming down his face. We sunk to the floor together and I held him as he wept, rubbing his back, doing my best to sooth him. I rocked him gently back and forth as he clung to me, sobbing and crying. I pulled him tight against me, his hands clawing at my back. I knew what it was like, feeling like you were drowning on dry land. We stayed like that for a bit until John's sobs changed to sniffles and he sat up, wiping at his eyes.

"You must think I'm ridiculous, a grown man crying."

I shook my head. "No. Not at all. Come on. Let's get you up to bed. Both of us need to get a little rest before we go up to the hospital." I helped him up to his old room. "Sorry it's so girly now."

"It's alright. I'll look for a place of my own in the morning."

"John. Your place is here. I'll move my things into Sherlock's room tomorrow, that way you can have your space." I watched as he looked around. "I'll be taking your pistol."

"What? Why?"

"Because you are a man under extreme stress right now and you don't need to have something that will give you instant access to the end." I held out my hand patiently. "Sherlock asked me to. Now give it here or else I'll have to take it from you by force."

John sighed, handing me his pistol. "Happy now?"

"Very," I said, checking the safety. "Sleep well. And if you try to take this from me while I'm sleeping, I will be forced to hurt you. Keep that in mind."

With that, I left the room, listening to him as he got ready for bed. When I finally heard his soft snores an hour later, I went downstairs, knocking softly on Mrs. Hudson's door. She appeared in the doorway in her nightgown.

"Oh! Delilah! I wasn't expecting you. Please, come in."

I shook my head. "I'm going off to the hospital to see Sherlock. Will you hold onto this and keep an eye on John for me? It's John's pistol and I'd rather he not have it."

"I…alright." She took the gun from me timidly. "Should I give it back to him in the morning?"

"No. Call me when he wakes and I'll come back over. I'm sorry for all the shouting earlier." "Oh dear, when you have Sherlock in the house, there's always some sort of shouting or crashing or banging. I'm used to it at this point. Give Sherlock my love."

"I will," I replied. "Have a good night Mrs. Hudson. Sleep well."

She nodded, closing the door and I left the flat, heading to St. Bart's once more. I made it in about twenty minutes, going straight up to Sherlock's room, finding him in his bed, the morphine drip going. I sat down next to him, rubbing at the back of my neck, looking at his sleeping face.

"You idiot. You could have died."

He smirked. "Yes."

I rolled my eyes. "I should have known you'd be awake."

"I lowered my dosage on the morphine. I knew you'd come back here. How's John?"

"Sleeping. I took his gun like you asked me to."

"Good." Sherlock winced and I took his hand in my mine. "Good. Now you go home and sleep."

"No. I'm not leaving your side, especially not after today's adventures. You can get rid of that thought right now."

Sherlock sighed heavily, looking over at me. "You're stubborn."

"So are you," I said with a smile. "Go to sleep Sherlock. I'll be right here when you wake up."

He nodded and I watched as he finally drifted off to sleep. When I knew he was asleep, I reached into my pocket, pulling out a memory stick with the initials A.G.R.A. written on the side. I plugged it into the laptop I'd brought over with me from the flat the last time I'd gone home from the hospital. Quickly I downloaded all of the contents before snapping it closed, tucking the memory stick back into my pocket.

Now it came down to a choice. Did I keep the information or did I give it to Magnussen? Or did I give it to the authorities? I frowned. Two of those three options would put me at odds with Sherlock and I wasn't trying to upset him. But getting rid of Mary would protect the boys and in the end, that would be worth it, wouldn't it?

Words echoed through my mind and I sighed, getting up to look out the window. They were words my father had told me over and over again growing up, ones that I had tried to live by for the most part. I turned, grabbing the laptop and opening it.

"The truth will set you free…but this truth will destroy everyone I care about." I deleted the information, closing the laptop once again.

The deal is off Magnussen. I want no part in your silly game. Keep the information.

I want nothing to do with you. –DM

So sorry we couldn't come to an agreement. Perhaps we could reconsider. –CAM

No. I don't work with criminals. I never have. Good-bye. –DM

Oh Delilah. This is not good bye. Only see you soon. :) –CAM

I felt my stomach tie itself into knots even as I looked at Sherlock in bed. What had I managed to get myself into this time?