A/N: Sorry for the delay. I've been locked in a theatre for 2 weeks, and I've only just started getting time to read and write, so I'll hopefully catch up soon. Again, huge thanks and shout out to 'naturerocs' who inspired all of this and thank you to all my readers and reviewers. Now on with the show!

Chapter 20 – The Inevitable

As Sherlock stormed out and slammed the door, Angie stared after him, and shook her head.

"I'm not gonna deal with him right now." She sighed as she frowned at Harry.

I sighed and took my coat off. "Well, let's get started." I walked over and started picking up the bottles.

Angie gave me a small smile. "Thanks. You don't have to do this."

"I'm not gonna leave you alone to deal with this mess. And I've got plenty of practice. Brings back old memories, doesn't it?" I said sardonically.

Angie scoffed.

We managed to clean everything up and get Harry up to her temporary room.

"Thank you so much for staying and helping! You didn't have to do that." Said Angie as we came back downstairs. I flopped into Sherlock's chair and replied.

"Of course I did, my useless brother wouldn't help you and Harry is a handful on a good day. Think nothing of it." I smiled.

"Well, thanks anyway. How about I finally get you that tea I promised you?" Asked Angie with a smile.

"Oh yes please!" I said enthusiastically.

"Here you go."

"Thanks, you always make such good tea." I said taking the tea. Angie sat in John's chair. We both avoided the now wine smelling sofa.

"I swear, John better never do this to me again." Frowned Angie.

"I don't think he'd survive you or Sherlock if he does." I laughed.

"I'm gonna kill Sherlock first."

"I'll hold him down!" We laughed humourlessly.

"John was wrong. She hasn't changed one bit." Angie's expression darkened, she really had had enough of Harry and her antics. I knew I had in the last five minutes and I hadn't seen her in nearly ten years.

"I could've told you that by the state of her nails and the stain on her jeans." I deduced, trying to keep my feeling about Harry neutral, but my observations told me enough about how low Harry had dunk. I had no sympathy for her.

"Her nails?" Angie questioned, and then realisation hit her. "Oh, jagged from opening so many bottles of beer, or she's been drinking a lot lately so she's been jittery, so she's been biting them or something?"

"The shakes from alcohol withdrawal and nervous biting, but also she had a manicure recently, an attempt at bettering herself, the glue left on her index and middle finger from opening beer cans and breaking the false nails off." As I reeled off what I'd noticed, I realised I sounded just like Sherlock, a slightly monotonous tone to my voice. We were the new Holmes and Watson.

"Ah. Manicure? She never does...feminine stuff like that. What's gotten into her? And then when she saw that picture of Moran, which I still can't get off, by the way, she actually said he was hot!" She paused and added. "Maybe it's an attempt to get Clara back?"

"No Clara won't go back to Harry, Harry committed adulatory. The trust is broken."

"That's why they split up?! But Harry left her. Of course, she is stupid, so..."

"You think it was with a guy, and that would explain the feminine stuff?"

"Yes you can tell by Harry's clothes she left in a rush, also she's wearing Clara's perfume, she feels guilty but still thinks it's not her fault. I can't tell if it the person she cheated with is male or female."

Trying to lighten the mood I jokingly asked:

"Please can I introduce Harry to Jim, just to scare her, not kill her?!"

"Don't ask me that right now, I'm not exactly thinking rationally about her. Besides, you know Sherlock would kill me if I used Jim's 'services' for anything, even with Harry."

"Okay. I won't tell him to pay a visit to Harry." I smiled, the idea becoming more and more appealing.

"And then she has the nerve to ask to stay with me and John?!"

"I know. Its rude, but your parents have kicked her out. Look at her belongings, all of them in two bags. She really is homeless." I said somewhat smugly. I really felt bad for both John and Angie, it wasn't their fault that Harry was so aggravatingly vile.

"It's about time they open their eyes to what she really is!"

"I agree. Can we introduce Harry to Mycroft instead; he'd scare her."

"The only reason Mycroft would agree to that is because you asked him."

"I know." I smiled. "If Harry wakes up when I'm still here, I apologise now for anything I saw or do. I've had enough of her antics and her ruining your life." As

"That's fine. Go right ahead, she deserves it, especially since she's ruined your life, too." Replied Angie glumly.

We stopped talking and drank our tea. Angie knitted her brow, deep in thought and asked:

"What else had you and Sherlock been talking about in the study?" I was surprised by Angie's question, but I answered the best I could.

"Honestly nothing. I really was just getting over protective of my best friend and annoying Sherlock because I can."

"Well, you weren't just talking about him proposing. You wouldn't waste five minutes talking about something you could say in one sentence." Accused Angie.

"Okay, I was asking him for his help with something related to Jim." It wasn't necessarily untrue, I did ask Sherlock not to kill Jim.

"Oh?" Questioned Angie further.

"I don't want to talk about it. Sorry Ang." As the words left my mouth I knew I was saying the wrong thing, but I also started to worry about Jim.

"Fine." Spat Angie, she was angry. I felt awful.

"I'm sorry, its just it's sensitive. I can't even talk to Mycroft about it, please don't be mad." Again, it wasn't really a lie.

"No, it's fine. What difference does it make two Holmes keeping something from me?" She said angrily, and then she paused and sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Angie, I'm sorry. Maybe I should go?" I said feeling dreadful. I didn't want to lie, but Sherlock needed the secrecy to protect Angie. After an awkward silence Angie spoke.

"If you want to, I understand you not wanting to be here with Harry...but I wish you'd stay. I am sorry. I'm just...my nerves are a bit frayed." Tears welling up in Angie's eyes as she spoke quietly. My heart broke for her.

"I want to stay, but I feel I'm making things worse. I'm worried about Jim; he's being particularly reckless at the moment. With Harry being back, I understand, it makes one feel like a child again." Harry had this horrible way of making you feel small and worthless, it wasn't because she was clever or powerful, her words and actions would lurk in your mind.

"If you need to get home and deal with Jim, I understand. I'll be fine; but you're not making things worse, don't think that." Said Angie. I smiled weakly at her as thoughts of Jim slowly filling my mind. I really hadn't wanted him to go this time, I never told him, but I really did have a bad feeling.

"I would deal with him if he was ever home. I think we both need the company." I paused before I asked:

"Ang, can I ask you something?"

"Thanks. And sure, of course." I took a deep breath and asked the scariest question of my life.

"Did I make a mistake marrying Jim? Angie looked shocked for a second, but recovered quickly.

"I can't answer that for you. I don't know the whole picture, and it's not my place to say. I mean, if you really love him, which I think you do, and I can tell that he really does love you...I don't know. I...that's something you have to decide for yourself."

"I do love him, but I'm scared. I have a really bad feeling something big is coming that none of us can stop."

"Well, we'll just have to stick together and ride it out."

"I hope so, I really do."

"Sorry to bring down the mood. What are we gonna do when Harry wakes up?!"

"It's fine. I have half a mind to kick her out."

"I wouldn't blame you."

"Yeah, but I promised John."

"Stupid John. That's not fair I know, but he sort of made you take her."

"Yeah, but considering everything, I don't want to blame John for anything. He's been through enough as it is. Mostly Sherlock's fault."

"Everything is Sherlock's fault, or Jim's." We smiled at each other.

"Basically, men make life difficult." Finally managing to laugh.

I stood up and took our mugs into the kitchen, rinsing them out. Our laughter ceased as quickly as it had began as Harry entered the room.

"Hey, brat, I could have sworn I fell asleep out here." Moaned Harry. I stayed in the kitchen, I wanted to see how Harry was going to react to Angie.

"Oh, god. No, Harry, you didn't fall asleep out here. You passed out." Explained Angie.

"Eh, same difference." Shrugged Harry. Not apologetic in any way.

"Harry, I thought you were off the booze?" Asked Angie, a perfectly fair question to ask.

"Get off my back! You ain't my mother!" Shouted back Harry, sounding like a petulant teenager and not a thirty-two year old woman.

"Thank goodness." Replied Angie, she was getting angry, dangerous.

"Oi, I'll smack you upside the head in a minute!" Threatened Harry.

"Oh, really?!" Challenged Angie. I thought it was time to step in. Harry would be getting a nasty surprise.

"Harry you lay a finger on Angie and you can deal with me." I said darkly.

"Oh, look what the cat dragged in. The other Brecon brat. Hehe, that's funny, Brecon brat." Taunted an incoherent Harry.

"Not really." Replied Angie, no emotion in her voice."

"You're insults won't work on me anymore Harry, I've met far worse people than you. I'd love for you to meet some of them." I really was losing my thinly controlled temper.

"What are you saying, that I'm a horrible person?!" Shouted Harry.

"Harry, watch your temper!" Scolded Angie.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Shouted back Harry.

"This is my home, I'll do as I very well please, and you will do as I say, or you can leave!"

"What, you gonna kick me out?" Asked Harry incredulously.

"If you don't behave like a civilised person, yes." Bit back Angie.

I looked Harry up and down, giving her my most withering and intense stare, she couldn't meet my eyes as I perused her, drinking in every squalid detail about her.

"Let' take a look at you shall we? A divorced alcoholic who's now homeless. You've been kicked out by your parents who've had enough of your antics. Clara wouldn't take you back after the multiple affairs you had and you've relapsed three times. You've got to work hard to beat an addiction Harry, but you don't really want to give up the addiction, the alcohol numbs the realisation that you have wasted your life. You chose to insult those more intelligent than you so they don't see your faults, but sadly in only accentuates them." I paused a let my words sink in. I then continued:

"Angie doesn't have to let you stay and I know Sherlock can't stand you, so shut up and behave like an adult." Harry was quiet for a second before reacting to my tirade. Angie and I stood together as a united front.

"You two always did think you were better than everyone else."

"Harry, I'm starting to think you say that about everyone, which should tell you something right there." Replied Angie exasperatedly.

"I can at least stay faithful to my husband. You are horrible person, Harry." I sniped, truly fed up of her incessant whining. Harry came close to me, stinking of Alcohol, and raised her fist threateningly.

"You might think you're smarter than me, but I'll bet I'm still stronger than you, ya little brat."

"Don't you come anywhere near her, Harry." Warned Angie, looking truly angry.

"Are you threatening me?" I asked menacingly. Harry took a step back, but puffed herself up with fake bravado.

"What if I am? You're both scrawny little wimps, easy." I rolled my eyes at her statement; we'd both changed so much.

"Harry, I've changed at lot in the past few years. I've taken down men ten times as strong as you. The only thing I regret about learning martial arts after I escaped from you is that I didn't learn it earlier." Said Angie, her voice rising on volume as she spoke.

"I really would warn you against it, I would hate to see what my husband or brothers would do if they knew you laid a finger on either Angie or I." I hoped she'd catch my thinly veiled threat. If she hurt me, Jim would kill her. If she hurt Angie, Sherlock would be furious, I don't know what he'd do.

"Oh, please, you haven't got any brothers. And you probably married some dorky wimp." I chuckled darkly; she really had no idea.

"Oh Harry, you are so naïve."

"Do you remember the name James Moriarty from the news?" I hoped she clocked on quickly just whom she was dealing with.

"See, Harry, you don't know a thing about us, you never have. Believe me, her husband is the most dangerous man in the world, and her brothers, one of which is my boyfriend, are not people you want to mess with. Her oldest brother could have you 'disappear'. Actually, all three of them probably could." Replied Angie, trying to get Harry to understand. She still looked at us disbelievingly.

"Take heed of Angie's words Harry. I'd hate for there to be an accident." I threatened.

"Who?" Asked Harry, still oblivious.

"She was probably passed out most nights during the news." Said Angie scathingly, annoyed Harry was being so dense, and so she explained.

"James Moriarty, broke into the Crown Jewels, the Bank of England, and Pentonville Prison all at the same time, and got away with it. He's the most dangerous criminal mastermind in the world."

"Shame, how can anyone be so ignorant?" I wondered out loud. Harry's expression darkened at my words. After a lengthy pause, she finally figured it out.

"Wait, is he that bloke John said almost killed you and him and that Sherwood guy?"

"She finally gets it and its Sherlock, he's one my two older brothers." I said clapping sarcastically slow.

"It's Sherlock. And yes, that's him."

"Your best friend married a criminal that almost killed you and John, and you say I'm a horrible person?" Asked Harry. I never admitted to being perfect and I didn't try to kill anyone.

"You are a horrible person Harry." I smiled at Harry.

"Yeah, Percy's using her situation to do some good in the world. SHE isn't completely WASTING her life away! Unlike someone else." Said Angie pointedly.

"Thanks Ang." I said, we smiled at each other.

"Well, I'll give her one up on you, Angie, at least she's actually managing to stay married." Oh a low blow, Harry crossed a line bringing Jesse up.

"The only reason I'm not married anymore is because Jesse was murdered." Shouted Angie.

"Probably killed himself to get away from you." Sniped Harry. I could see the effect her poisonous words were having on Angie.

"Why would you say something like that? You say you're not a horrible person, then you turn around and say something completely horrible! What is wrong with you?!"

"Harry your wife divorced you for cheating on her." I said bluntly.

"I left HER. It was MY choice."

"It wasn't, she left you. Harry, you're living out of a bin liner and a suitcase, you have all your worldly possessions with you, and you have nowhere else to go, forsaken by nearly everyone who knows you. The rings round your neck are worn for sentimentality and out a sense of guilt. If you had left you would've sold them."

"Yes it was! I'll knock both your heads together!" Shouted back Harry. Advancing on us.

"Hurt Angie and I'll set my husband on you." I threatened darkly, but Harry kept coming towards us. Harry stopped in her tracks as the door slammed open. It was Sherlock.

"It's bad enough you've intruded on my home and imposed yourself, but now you're threatening my girlfriend and my sister?" He said darkly. He was less than pleased.

"Hello Sherlock." I greeted. I was pleased to see him.

"And where the hell have you been?!" Said Angie, quite loudly.

"Angie, I don't think shouting will help the situation any."

"Sherlock, just don't." I warned, he met my gaze over Angie and shook my head minutely.

"You haven't been helping at all!" Accused Angie, bringing Sherlock's attention back to her.

"I'll punch you all in the face in a minute." Harry threatened Sherlock and turned to speak at her sister.

"Angie, it sounds like you've got your own problems to worry about, so stop focusing on mine!"

"It'll be easier to do that if you leave, Harry." Said Angie.

"I haven't got anywhere to go!" Pleaded Harry.

"Its you're own fault." I said to Harry at the same time as Angie said:

"That's your own problem."

"Great minds hey Ang?!" I grinned at Angie, trying to diffuse some of the tension.

"You said I could stay here. I'll be out of your hair as soon as possible, so I won't have to put up with a little brat like you anymore, alright?!" Harry snarled in an accusatory tone.

"Do you have any manners Harry?" I asked. Angie turned to leave the room but Harry grabbed onto Angie, tightening her grip the more Angie struggled. I could see Angie slowly returning to her fourteen-year-old self, scared of her vile older sister.

"Let go of my wrist, Harry! I'm too old for you to keep bullying me like this!" Begged Angie, her voice losing it strength with every word.

"And yet I'm still able to. Where's that martial arts training now, brat?" Goaded Harry; she wore a sick smile on her drunken face.

"Harry let go of Angie." I said trying to pull Harry off Angie, but she just pushed me out of the way, I stumbled but caught onto the fireplace before I could fall. Sherlock stormed into the room, pulled Harry off Angie. He put a protective arm around Angie and turned the full power of his icy stare on Harry, she shrank under his gaze.

"Touch her again, and I will kill you." Sherlock's voice was so cold and low. I believed every word. Harry would die if she ever hurt Angie again. Sherlock looked at me and walked over to Angie as he hauled Harry up off the floor.

"You were warned Harry." I said darkly as she passed me.

Trying to hide her shame, Harry spoke before she skulked upstairs like a scolded child.

"I'm going up to bed. If you don't mind; I'll start looking for my own place tomorrow. Anything to get out of this hellhole."

As Harry stomped up the stairs and slammed the door for good measure, I looked and Angie, silent tears falling.

"Come here Ang." I hugged Angie close to me, giving any comfort I could to my best friend.

"Angie, are you alright?!" I asked looking at Angie's wrist.

"It'll probably just be a bit of a bruise, I'll be fine." She looked it too, it was red and angry, and it looked as though it was starting to swell.

"Lets get some ice on that." We walked into the kitchen; Sherlock guarded the living room door.

"God, I can't believe that! I just feel like a little kid again around her!" Said Angie angrily.

"She's a witch, hopefully she'll soon be gone. Sherlock won't let her do anything to you. I am so close to making her vanish." I said, I was angry.

"Yeah, but if you do that, you'll have to deal with John. And Mycroft would probably frown upon it."

"No Mycroft wouldn't mind too much as long as she didn't die. You're right, John would mind. I don't want her dead, just sent to Siberia."

"Actually, she might consider it a favour. Isolated from everyone, she can drink till her liver gives out."

WE cam back out into he living room, Sherlock now sat in his chair. For the first time ever, I witnessed a true human connection between Sherlock and Angie, he stood to meet her and led her back over to his chair, her sat and pulled Angie into his lap, wrapping his arm tightly round her waist. He truly was scared he'd lose her.

"Are you, um...are you alright?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks. For that." Replied Angie, gesturing to her wrist. The close contact made them awkward together.

"I'll make us all a hot drink, tea?" I wanted to give them some privacy. Angie nodded.

"Of course. I have had to deal with my own tormenting sibling." Said Sherlock lightly.

"Sherlock, I can assure you, Mycroft was not nearly as bad as Harry is."

"Alright, fine. But I was trying to make you feel better."

"How do you take your tea Sherlock? Which of your delightful siblings did you mean dear brother?" I asked with a smile.

"Black with sugar, and you are very nearly as bad as Mycroft Percy."

"Percy's not anywhere near like Harry. She just likes to aggravate you a bit." Smiled Angie, defending me. The mood lightened a little.

"But thanks, Sherlock. That's sweet." Said Angie, kissing Sherlock on the cheek.

"I'd hate to disappoint in my sisterly duties." I said as I brought in the tray of tea.

"I must be weird. I've never tormented John. The most I've ever done is tease him a little." I laughed, it was true, Angie was the model sister.

"Yes but you are very lovely!"

"Thanks. I guess I live up to my name."

"Exactly!" We both laughed, even Sherlock smiled.

"Speaking of which, Angela..." I cut Sherlock off as my phone rang.

"Oh sorry, I need to get this." I stood and went into the hallway.

"Hello?"

"Mrs Moriarty, its Demitri, Mr Moriarty's contact here in Moscow." Replied a man with a thick Russian accent.

"Yes, is there a problem?" I asked fearing the worst.

"I'm afraid so, there was an attempt on Mr Moriarty's life. He's been shot." I knew it, my bad feeling was right. I couldn't concentrate.

"What? Is he alright?" I asked.

"He's in a private hospital and he is stable. There is a seat booked for you on a flight that leaves Heathrow airport in two hours. I will meet you when you arrive in Moscow."

"Thank you Demitri." I hung up the phone. I didn't know what to do. I felt hollow inside. I had to go home, get my passport. Tell Angie where I'm going. Everything was moving in slow motion. I felt sick. I opened the door, my hands shaking. I looked at the floor as I spoke, my voice timid, filled with shock.

"I've got to get home, my flight leaves in an two hours. I'll call you when I can, I'm sorry." I turned, unsure of myself. I was starting to panic.

"What? I didn't know you were leaving. Is everything okay?" Asked Angie, concerned.

"Yeah I need to go, s-s-some-something's happened to Jim." The words stuttering and mumbling from my mouth as I spoke.

"Alright, I hope everything's okay. Call me when you can." Said Angie. I nodded.

"I will. I hope I'm not too late." I said as I left.

I sped down the stairs and into the chilly November air. I ran home, I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. I fumbled with my keys trying to open the door. Finally I managed to undo the lock and I threw myself inside. I ran upstairs and pulled out an overnight bag and packed random items of clothing and my wash bag into the bag. I zipped it up and ran downstairs. I headed for the study and into the top left draw of Jim's desk was my passport. I looked at my watch I had and hour and a half to get to my flight. I went out on to Marylebone road and hailed a taxi. I told the driver that if he got me to Heathrow in forty minutes I'd pay him triple his cab fare. He sped up and good to his word he did it. I paid the cabbie and walked into the airport. A man in a black suit who told me to follow him met me; he led me through the airport to passport control, where I was met by Mycroft.

"You've been given diplomatic immunity for this trip, no need for visas." He spoke to the border control officer who just looked at my passport and let me through. Mycroft followed me through.

"I'm coming with you. I thought you might need some support."

"Thank you." I replied quietly, but I felt some strength return to me. Mycroft was there, he would help me, and he would help Jim.

Our set numbers were called and Mycroft gently steered me to the plane. I was so grateful he didn't push small talk. I just wanted to see him; I had to know Jim was okay. Eventually I found my voice.

"What am I going to do if he dies Mycroft?"

"You don't need to worry about that, its not going to happen, not for a long, long time. Try and relax sister, it's a fairly long flight." I nodded. I rested my head against Mycroft's shoulder and slowly fell asleep.

Hours later I felt someone shaking me awake.

"Percy we'll be landing in five minutes." I nodded in response; I looked out the window my mind still running at a million miles an hour. Sleeping had just prolonged the inevitable panic rising in me.

We landed and again I numbly followed as Mycroft led me through border control and on into the airport. As we entered the arrivals lounge I saw a sign saying 'Moriarty' and I walked towards it.

"Mrs Moriarty, I am Demitri, we spoke earlier. Who is this?"

"Yes, Hello Demitri. This is my brother, Mycroft Holmes, he is to be conceded every courtesy and given full disclosure." I said sharply, but I wasn't going anywhere without Mycroft or Jim. I still wasn't sure if this was a trap or not.

"This way, we'll go straight to the hospital."

"Thank you."

The drive to the hospital was even more agonising than the flight. Demitri acted as translator and we were taken to Jim's room. Mycroft waited outside with Demitri. Jim had been shot once in his shoulder, and once in the chest, his bodyguard was dead. Jim's left lung had collapsed and his left arm was in a sling to keep his shoulder immobile. I tuned out all words after I heard that he was stable.

Jim was so pale. He was breathing on his own, but he looked dead. I had to keep watching the rise and fall of his chest to know he was still alive. The constant beep of the hart monitor slowly sunk into my brain and reassured me. I sat in the chair next to the bed and took Jim's hand, it felt cold, and he never had cold hands. For a long time I couldn't think or say anything, tears fell. I slowly calmed down and found the courage to speak.

"Hello love, what have you done to yourself this time? Russia, I've had to come all the way to Russia. Good job I love you James Moriarty. You're going to wake up soon aren't you, let me see those deep brown eyes and that cheeky grin." I paused. I took another shaky breath.

"Please wake up, please be okay. I can't live without you. What will I do if your not here to look after me? Please Jim." I couldn't say anymore, my vision blurred through my tears.

Hours passed, I kept our hands entwined. I cried to a point where I couldn't cry anymore. I lay me head on the bed and closed my eyes. I felt something in my hand move, a twitch of fingers. I gently squeezed the hand that moved and I looked up, I looked up the gently flickering eyes of my husband as he woke up.

"Hi." I said, my voice cracking.

"Hi." Replied Jim quietly.

"You scared me."

"I scared me too."

"Let me help you, we'll sort this together."

"Together." Agreed Jim quietly.

Jim spent three more days in hospital. We had a day together, making a plan of action and then we sorted the problem, together we were always stronger than apart. After a week in Russia, I flew home. Mycroft let my cry on him most of the flight home. I didn't want to be alone. I still felt uneasy, this had been bad, but something much worse was coming. How much worse I couldn't tell, but it would break us all.