It was decided, without consulting Rose, that the three men in her life would take shifts staying with her at the hospital. None of them was eager to let her be alone and Rose had to admit, upon hearing their plan, that she had no objections. Just then she'd rather not be so independent. Thus it was with great surprise that her doctor found Rose alone in her room, reading a magazine.

"Good afternoon," he greeted her. "Are you on your own today?"

Rose shook her head. "No, Mycroft's arguing with someone on his mobile. I'm presuming someone important since he helped himself to the room next door."

"Should we wait, or can I get on with my check-up?"

"We're safe to go ahead. He'll be back soon and I can fill him in," Rose assured the physician.

In the Room Next Door

"I said no, and I meant no," Mycroft hissed into his phone. "My sister was nearly murdered; I am staying with her as much as she needs me too. When was the last time I ever took a personal day? The answer is never! Unless the nation is absolutely at risk and there is no alternative the answer is still no." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Let's play pretend, shall we? Pretend that you're the prime minister and can actually do your job all by yourself for a few days!"

Back in Rose's Room

"Things are progressing nicely. I'm quite pleased," the physician admitted. "Provided everything continues to go as well, I don't see why we cannot release you tomorrow afternoon. In the meantime, I'd like you to start doing some walking around here. Walk as much as you like today. Be sure to rest if you get winded or feel in any pain, but I'm not limiting your distance or number of walks."

Rose rewarded the man with a big smile. "That's really good news. I feel better than yesterday. Not as tired and no more panic about the injuries."

"The vast majority of them will heal with minimal to no scarring," the doctor assured her. "And those that do scar won't be easily seen or particularly distressing. Now, up you get, do some walking. I'll check back before the end of my shift."

As soon as the physician left, Rose decided to do precisely as she'd been told and take a walk. She eased herself off the bed and put on the silly socks with the grip on the bottom of them and exited her room. She could hear Mycroft shouting with someone on the phone still and wondered if it was still the Prime Minister or not. Shaking her head, she started off down the hallway.

"Here now! Where are you going?" A familiar voice called out to her. Rose stopped and turned, giving John a little smile. "The doctor said I should be up and walking as much as I'd like, so long as I take breaks if I get winded or start hurting."

He nodded, returning her smile. "Mind if I walk with you?" It wasn't that he doubted the doctor's recommendation; John would have made the same one himself. Rather, it was the fact that John wasn't ready to let her out of his, or someone's, sight just yet.

"Sure," Rose agreed. "Want to hold my hand too?" Her tone was light, almost nervous as she held out her hand.

"I'd love too." Smiling, John reached for her hand and interlaced their fingers, holding it gently.

The two walked in companionable silence for several minutes until finally John spoke. "Are you alright, love? You're awfully quiet. Making me worried," he admitted.

"I suppose I'm alright," Rose answered with a sigh.

John was instantly alarmed. "Are you having trouble breathing? Is your chest hurting?" Her breathing sounded fine, but he couldn't be one hundred percent sure.

"No, no, nothing like that," she hurried to assure him. "Let's keep walking." Rose nudged his arm gently. "I can't find the words to say what I want to say and it's going to be awkward for me until I say them."

He squeezed her hand gently. "Try anyway. I may not have the sort of mind that Sherlock does, but I've been told by reliable sources that I'm at least reasonably intelligent." John gave her a wink, trying to set her at ease with a bit of teasing.

"I don't know how to say thank you for saving my life. Or how to apologize for lying to you for weeks, promising I was alright, even when I wasn't," she said quietly.

"Oh love," John sighed. "You really want to talk about this now? Here?" He could practically feel the anxiety coming off her in waves. "There's a lounge up ahead. Let's go there and get a cuppa, then talk a bit, yeah?"

Rose nodded and allowed him to lead the way to the lounge. When they arrived, she helped herself to a cup of coffee while John chose tea. They selected a couple of chairs by a window and settled in.

"Let me start by saying you don't need to thank me, or feel indebted to me in any way for saving your life," John said sincerely. "I'm just glad I was there when you needed me and knew how to help."

"John, you killed a man for me," she whispered.

"Sherlock told you, didn't he?"

She nodded.

"I told him not to; git," John grumbled. "Yes, I did kill him. It was him or you and there was no way in hell I was letting him kill you. I'd never let anyone hurt you, ever. And he wasn't my first, not by a long shot."

"Afghanistan," she said quietly.

"Right. There's been more than I'd like there to have been, but there you are. I don't regret what I did and I'd do it again. I'd really prefer it not come to that though," John admitted. "I'd like you to take better care of yourself and keep us apprised of what's going on with you. I'd also like to think you'll be honest with me from now on. I don't like being lied to, especially by people I care about and that very much includes you."

"I know," Rose replied, her face reddening. "I'm so sorry I lied to you. It was incredibly stupid, and my reasons for it were stupid as well. I won't make that mistake again."

"Now that you're back, you're not alone in the world anymore. Remember that, yeah?" John reminded her. "Let us help you if you're in trouble."

"No more lies, I promise. Can you ever forgive me?" Rose's question was posed in earnest and her anxiety of what his response might be reflected in her eyes.

Overcome by the urge to hug her close, John took her hands and gently pulled her out of her chair and onto his lap. "Do you really even need to ask that, love? Of course I forgive you." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "But it best not happen again, yeah? I can't promise I won't give you a good spanking if you lie to me again about something so important."

Blushing once more, Rose nodded, taking his words for what they were: a warning. "I understand," she assured him. "And it won't come to that; promise."

"That's my good girl."

"Hmph. Your good girl wants her coffee back. Reach it over or let me up," Rose laughed. "I haven't had any since breakfast and it's high time I enjoy it. And you won't get me back to that bed until I have a second cup, though I am willing to make it a takeaway cup."

Laughing, John leaned across the table to retrieve her cup. "I'd say you're well on your way back to health if you're already issuing demands in that cheeky tone of yours."

Rose took a long, fortifying drink of her coffee. "Mycroft and Sherlock have been very tight lipped about what they're going to do with me and I'm not stupid enough to think that means they have no intentions of having at me for the all the secrecy."

"You're quite right on that, but I can't tell you what their plans are. They've done a lot of whispering with their heads together. Though I think it's safe to say that Sherlock has talked Mycroft out of procuring an underground bunker to put you in for safe keeping," John admitted.

"Mycroft is always saying ridiculous things like that," Rose groaned. "He gets all dramatic and blustery. Always been that way."

"They were so scared for you Rose. We all were," he reminded her gently.

"I was scared for me too," she admitted. "But not until that last letter. I really thought if I just ignored it, it would go away and if I took rides places I'd be fine. Lord, my brothers are going to kill me."

"They'll have to wait a bit. You need your rest, no strenuous activity," John pointed out. "So they'll wait until I say differently. Health comes first, no matter how much you deserve a smacked bottom."

Rose blushed and looked around, discovering that, thankfully, they were alone. "We should probably head back. Mycroft has to be done scolding the Prime Minister by now and wondering where I am."

"Mycroft was scolding the Prime Minister?" John asked, dumbfounded.

"Yes. Apparently there are several people in our government, the prime minister included, that object to my brother having some personal days to hover over me. They can't seem to manage all by themselves. You'd think Mycroft would be more appreciative of my independence given their tendencies to cling," Rose pointed out.

John shook his head, chuckling. "Get your second cup of coffee and we'll head back to your room."

x

When they arrived back at her hospital room, Mycroft was finally off the phone, looking bored as they entered.

"Look at you, a whole mobile garden all your own," John said with a laugh. "I'm gone eight hours and suddenly room is bursting at the seams with flowers."

"I'm quite popular I guess," Rose commented. "Never realized. The dance studio sent me those," she indicated a vase full of carnations. "Louise stopped by with chocolates. She knows me well. Mycroft gave me the yellow roses, which are quite lovely. Lestrade's department sent the tulips; Mrs. Hudson brought the daisies and chocolate scones."

"Didn't Sherlock get you anything?" John asked, frowning. Sometimes that man was quite thoughtless about appropriate social conventions. Someone you like is in hospital for a stay, you send flowers. Then again, he hadn't known the planets circled the sun, so perhaps this wasn't all that surprising.

"Did you bring something, Dr. Watson?" Mycroft asked an eyebrow arching.

"I did, in fact," John responded. "But Rose was out walking, so I hadn't the chance to give it to her yet."

"Sit down Rose, or lie down, please. You've had plenty of exercise for the moment." Though Mycroft's words were a directive, his tone was full of concern and, to his surprise; Rose complied, settling back down on the hospital bed.

John reached for the bag he had placed on the end of the bed and handed it to her. "This is what I brought. Not flowers, obviously, but I hope you'll like it."

"I'm sure I will," Rose murmured. She opened the plain brown bag and spotted a pair of fuzzy feet. Frowning, she took hold of one of them and pulled the item out of the bag, to find a teddy bear. It was dressed in a Red Cross nurse's kit, complete with hat and cape. "Is this is a World War I uniform?" she asked, lightly touching the outfit.

"That I'm not sure," John admitted. "Looks like it but I'm no expert. You don't already have one like this do you? I made Sherlock look before I went round to that specialty shop that does these and he said he didn't see any nurse bears in your collection."

"I don't, no! No nurse bears at all. I almost don't know what to say. She's so sweet and the detail of the uniform is so incredible. Quite accurate, which is hard to find," Rose murmured, inspecting the outfit closely.

"I didn't realize you still collected bears, Rose," Mycroft murmured.

"I've never stopped," she admitted.

"Sherlock said she'd been doing it for years and that's why they're all over her flat," John added. "It seemed fitting, given the circumstances."

"She's lovely; so thoughtful," Rose said. She waved John over and rewarded him with a hug. "Thank you. I'll find a lovely spot for her when I get home." Already she had an inkling of where the new addition could sit, on the nightstand in her bedroom.

"Well, I believe I'll take my leave then since you are here," Mycroft said. "Contact me if you'd like me to come back before it's my turn again Rose. Otherwise, I'm going to have a shower and sleep."

"I will," she promised. As he got up, she reached out and tugged on his arm. "I want a hug first. Just be gentle with my arms."

Mycroft looked at her closely, as if trying to read something in her face or eyes. "You're certain you don't need me to stay?"

"No. Go home and rest, you've earned it. You haven't left my side in well over a day and I'm well out of danger," Rose promised.

Mycroft nodded, knowing she was right, but feeling reluctant to leave all the same.

"Or you could stay, if you'd prefer," she said quietly.

"Clearly he does prefer," Sherlock commented as he entered the room.

"Oh lord Sherlock, you've only been gone three hours. What happened to that nice schedule you three told me about, so you could get some sleep and a shower," Rose pointed out.

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders just a bit. "Sleep is boring. And I'm precisely where I need, and want, to be."

xx

"I said no, I meant no, now sit," Sherlock said sternly. "Sit in the wheelchair Rose, or I'll make them admit you again."

"Sherlock! I can walk, I'm ok to walk. The doctor even said so. Surely I can walk out to Mycroft's car on my own," Rose pointed out.

"I'm not interested. Sit. Down," Sherlock ground out. "So we can take you home."

Rose let out a frustrated sigh.

"John, assistance, if you'd be so kind."

"Seriously? Rose, you can't just do as you're told for once? No, no, that would be too easy, wouldn't it," John commented with a sigh of his own.

"He's going to use that captain tone in a moment," Sherlock told his sister.

"You think so?" Rose looked at John out of the corner of her eye.

"I do."

John gave her a stern look and raised an eyebrow.

Rose sat down.

"This is going to be an excruciatingly long recovery isn't it?" Sherlock asked his friend.

"Unfortunately, given your sister's nature- which is quite like your own- I think that it will be," John admitted.

"And his sister would like you to stop talking about her as if she was not here," Rose commented. "Are we leaving or aren't we?"

The two friends chuckled and Sherlock stepped behind the wheelchair to push it. "We're leaving," he assured her.

x

"Why do I feel like I'm on trial here?" Rose asked quietly. At present she was finding the socks on her feet very interesting.

Upon arriving back at Baker Street, a family meeting of sorts had been called in Sherlock and John's sitting room. They occupied their usual chairs while Mycroft and Rose claimed the couch. All eyes were on her and though she wasn't looking at anyone, she could feel them watching her.

"Perhaps, sister dear, because you are?" Mycroft quipped.

"That's unkind, My," she grumbled.

"But also accurate," Sherlock added. "We're all looking for an explanation of your completely idiotic responses, or lack thereof, to being bloody stalked. Have you not noticed what I do for living, Rosenwyn? I catch murderers, which should indicate to you that the world is not full of goodness and sunshine and little children frolicking in the park-"

"I know Sher-"

"Be QUIET!" He snarled. "I didn't ask you to speak just yet. You will listen!"

She visibly shrank a little in her seat and nodded.

"This is going to go marvelously well, isn't it?" John commented under his breath.

"The world is in fact very much populated with people that kill other people for any number of reasons," Sherlock continued on. "You're an adult now Rosenwyn and should very well know that problems do not just go away on their own, especially not problems that pose a potential threat to your safety."

"I didn't think-" Rose tried to interject.

"That, Rosenwyn Aramantha Holmes, is the understatement of the century!" Sherlock practically jumped out of his chair and began pacing around the sitting room. "It is abundantly obvious that you were not thinking about anything at all."

"I WAS!" she shouted, daring to look up at him now.

"Sherlock, go easy," John warned firmly. The last thing he wanted was Rose to start crying and then have trouble breathing.

"I will not go easy. You were very nearly killed, Rosenwyn. Taken from us forever!"

"Do you think I don't know that?!" Rose screeched at him. It was high-pitched enough that Sherlock stopped in his tracks and watched her face grow red.

"He put a knife to my throat!" She screamed. "He tackled me and sat on me and STABBED me! I thought I was going to die! If you think I haven't seen the error of my ways, you are very sadly mistaken Sherlock!" Putting a hand to her throat, where she'd been cut, Rose burst into tears.

Stunned by her sudden screaming and tears, Sherlock stood there for a moment in shock.

"Brilliant Sherlock. That's precisely what I wanted to avoid," John grumbled, getting out of his chair.

Before John could cross the room to console her, since Sherlock was making no attempts to do so, Rose closed the distance between herself and Mycroft and helped herself to his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck as she sobbed on his shoulder.

Mycroft froze the moment she sat on his lap, eyes wide, looking completely out of his depth. He looked at Sherlock who rolled his eyes at him.

'Hug her,' he mouthed.

Mycroft continued to stare like a deer caught in headlights, caught completely off guard by this whole scenario.

Rolling his eyes once more, Sherlock moved his arms, gesturing how Mycroft should hold her. 'Hold her. Do it,' he mouthed.

Slowly Mycroft raised his arms and wrapped them around her. Once he did, it was as if he remembered how to cuddle suddenly, after so much time had passed since he'd last cuddled her close.

While Mycroft held her, Sherlock sat down at the other end of the couch. He could feel John scowling at him and he knew he deserved it. It had been too much, too soon, even if every word had been true and something he felt she needed to hear.

'It's not working,' Mycroft mouthed at him over Rose's head.

"Oh you two really are ridiculous, aren't you?" John grumbled, crossing the room. "Give her here, she needs to calm down. She can't do this right now. Or at least turn her around to look at me."

Seeing the concern on John's face, Mycroft nudged Rose and scooted her around a bit so she could look at John.

"Love, you've got to stop. I know you're upset and you've every right to be," John said soothingly. "I don't want you back in hospital, so you need to stop. Please Rose, you've got to stop crying. Take a deep breath. I'll do it with you, yeah? Come on."

Together they took several deep breaths, or at least as deep as Rose could manage with her recovering lung, and she managed to calm down. "Good girl," he praised, kissing her forehead. "I think its nap time for you, love."

Sherlock snorted at the look on Rose's face, which immediately lightened the mood a bit.

"Despite all the evidence to the contrary, I'm not a baby," Rose said softly, drying her face with Mycroft's handkerchief. She was relieved to see Sherlock relax a bit and felt some of the tension drain out of her.

"I'm not saying you are," John soothed. "But you can't do that again. Your lung isn't up to shouting and crying so hard right now and I'm not certain I trust either of your brothers to not upset you again."

"I didn't say a word," Mycroft protested.

John rewarded the man with a hard look. "That is exactly my point." He quickly turned his attention back to Rose. "No arguing, doctor's orders. I'm tucking you into Sherlock's bed."

"She has her own bed," Sherlock commented.

"Your opinion hasn't been asked for Sherlock Holmes. If you don't want her to sleep in your bed, you shouldn't have shouted at her. Now she's staying here, in your bed, until I say different," John stated.

Rose poked her brother and said, "He's going to become Captain Watson on you. Then you'll really be in trouble." She gave him a weak smile, which grew into a full smile when Sherlock chuckled and shook his head before reaching for her hand and squeezing it gently.

"I'm clearly missing something here," Mycroft commented.

"Yes, but we aren't telling you," Rose hurried to answer him. "John I'm not tired and lying in bed is so boring."

"Well that's unfortunate. If you go in nicely and let me fuss over you I'll bring you a book," he offered. "But only if you do as I say."

"Alright," she agreed with a sigh. Now that Rose was calm and the tension had ebbed away from the room, she actually was a bit tired. There was no way she'd admit it though!

John gave her a smile, helped her up, and escorted her into Sherlock's room. He pulled back the bed covers and waited for her to climb in before tucking them in snuggly around her.

"John? Thank you," she said softly.

"For what love?"

"For what you did in there; calm us down," Rose told him, meaning herself and Sherlock.

"You're very welcome. I'm glad I was here. I had a feeling it would go poorly," he admitted. "Though I didn't see Sherlock as the one lashing out like that. I had Mycroft pegged."

"Me too," she admitted. "That was really odd."

"Don't worry about it anymore. You just rest for now; we'll sort it all out later. After all, you're not going anywhere," he pointed out with a smile. John watched Rose fight to keep her eyes open and chuckled. "No book for you. Sleep. I'll leave the door open a bit, call if you need me, yeah?"

"Mmm," was the only response he had as Rose closed her eyes again. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before exiting the bedroom.

"That, gentlemen, was very well done," John scolded. "I told you both you had to be careful with her. She's not up for this. Discussions, ones with talking, don't need to include shouting and provoking her into hysterics. You're lucky she didn't end up back in hospital Sherlock."

"I know," he admitted. "I got carried away."

"It's not going to happen again. I won't allow it. Her best interests come before your need to shout or bellow or anything else. I said it at hospital and I'll say it again to you both: neither of you are doing anything until I say differently." John squared his shoulders and gave both Holmes brothers a very stern look. "Am I clear?"

"Very," Mycroft stated. "We can wait."

Sherlock nodded his agreement. "I didn't mean to upset her. I hadn't considered she'd react so strongly."

John rolled his eyes. Sometimes it was completely unfathomable that someone as brilliant as Sherlock did not understand something as basic as human emotions.

"Clearly you didn't. I know it wasn't your intention to upset her so badly," John admitted. "But it can't happen again. Now, I'm going to make a cuppa. Anyone want one? Then we really need to sit down and figure out what we are going to do with her when she's well. Or, if you two have decided already, I'd like to hear the plan."

"We're going to spank her. That's the plan," Sherlock said.

"We?"

"We," Mycroft confirmed. "Sherlock and I think she needs a firm response from us both. Nothing over the top," he assured John. "I'll be giving her a hand spanking and Sherlock will finish up from there."

John looked at his flat mate, an eyebrow quirked.

Sherlock looked distinctly uncomfortable, but nodded. "With a strap. Just a dozen though."

John let out a low whistle. "Won't be nice, but she deserves it. And there will be a calm conversation discussing all this first, yeah?"

Another nod.

"Do you… own a strap?" John asked suddenly.

Now it was Mycroft's turn to look a bit uncomfortable. "I do."

Both eyebrows went up this time. "Rose wasn't kidding," he murmured to himself.

Mycroft frowned. "Explain, please."

"You've got an arsenal of nasty things," he chuckled. "Rose told me you did and I didn't quite believe her."

Mycroft's eyebrow rose. "I raised him, after all," he stated, indicating Sherlock. "And that's where all of it came from. He was, well… unmanageable. Had to figure out what worked."

John laughed as Sherlock blushed bright red. "I can believe that, I really can." He chuckled again before sobering. "Well, I don't pose any objections, provided you two wait until she's better first. Unfortunately, I have a feeling her recovery process is going to be very difficult… for us."

Both Holmes brothers nodded in agreement.

"And thus the long road of recovery begins," Mycroft stated before giving a resigned sigh. God help Sherlock and John, he thought to himself. It was going to be very rough road indeed.