"Very good," the woman answered amused at his declaration. She was, in fact, who he claimed she was. She was Victoria, Ginevra's daughter. "You've figured it. It's about time. I was expecting you long before the ring was stolen."

"Forgive me for not meeting your expectations," he sneered at the girl. "You're supposed to be dead."

"Well, clearly no one told me that," she mocked making him cringe. She reminded him of Ginny, and the sad thing was, she had no idea. She knew nothing about her own mother. She couldn't possibly know that's where her snarky attitude came from.

"Victor stole it," he concluded knowing this was the only way that it could be done. It had occurred to him that if Victor had a motive, he would still it. Love was a good motivator.

"Of course," she remarked simple accompanied by a shrug.

"This was all to get my attention," he tried to confirm quietly.

"No," she said sharply before she turned on her heels and headed for a chair near a fireplace. "Sit," she said gesturing to a chair across from her. Sherlock watched her wearily. "I don't bite," she promised rolling her eyes. He made his way toward the chair in question and sat across from her. "I did this, because I knew you would bring Ginevra with."

"You mean your mother?"

"She is my blood, but I didn't know her for most of my life. I just have vague memories," Rory admitted.

"Yet you devised this whole plan, so that I would bring her."

"She is still my blood," she replied with a condescending smile as if she was talking to a child who knew nothing.

"How did you know I would even bring her?"

"I knew you would take a case if Victor asked," she informed him, "and I knew she's still recovering, so you would bring her."

"So you know about her problems then?" Sherlock asked.

"I know she admitted herself into a mental hospital recently," she told him with a shrug.

"You don't know what ails her then?"

"No, but I suspect you'll tell me," she mused.

"She has dissociative personality disorder also known as multiple personality disorder," he answered, "and you being here, alive, it'll destroy her."

"I doubt that," Victoria replied with a sigh.

"I wasn't aware knowing her for three years of your life qualified to know what would harm her and what wouldn't," Sherlock sneered. "Where have you been? What happened?"

"James hoped that killing me would destroy any good she had left, so he took me from her," Rory replied quietly as she seemed to contemplate those events as she stared into the fireplace.

"Why didn't he just kill you?" Sherlock questioned looking for something of value on her person, but she was just a girl, a clever girl but still just a girl.

"Oh, use your eyes!" she demanded agitated as she stood knocking her chair over. She began pacing back and forth unable to control a nervous twitch in her hand. She tried clenching it behind her back and holding it with her lesser hand, but she failed hiding the anxiety from him. "Are you not the famous detective, Sherlock Holmes? So deduce me!" She held her hands out in a gesture allowing Sherlock to see the young woman clearly. He stared at her unable to find much to deduce. She was like Ginny, in that way. She was nearly undetectable, but he found what he was looking for in her dark eyes.

"You're Moriarty's…"

"Even the devil would not kill his own blood," she told him quietly as she made to pick up the chair. Her moods were in a series of highs and lows. She was utterly manic before her emotions shot back down to quiet and contemplative. He could see the man in questions own essence linger in her.

"Then what did he do with you?"

"I saw him every now and then in the manor," she replied, "but I was mainly watched by nurses and maids. I ran when I was thirteen. I got a glimpse of who he was, and I… I would have rather lived on the streets. I was clever, and I managed to stay under the radar. You can't keep track of homeless or the dead. He tried, but eventually gave up."

"What changed?" he asked. "You aren't on the streets now."

"A couple years ago, I was watching the news, and… I saw him," she answered sitting back down. "He was being tried, and I followed that trial up until his death."

"You worried?"

"I worried he would be set free," she replied quietly. "I thought nothing of him. I rarely saw him, and when I did, it was just mounting explanations of disappointment. Nothing changed there when I found myself in disgust and disappointment with the court for letting him free. I was prepared to leave London afraid I would run into him… and then, you and him both died, and… Ginevra wrote an article for the papers about you. I had no idea who she was, but I saw that picture, and… I looked like her… just like her. James had told me my mother abandoned me; that she didn't want me."

"He lied to you," Sherlock assured her.

"It doesn't change years of damage of thinking that he didn't," she told him with a sigh as she leaned back in the chair. "I couldn't trace her back; her files were covered and hidden and…. But you… you, Mr. Holmes, had records that were scattered everywhere. Mentioned in papers and that's how I was lead to Victor. The case you solved for Victor years was one of your first big cases. He knew I intended to use him right away. Of course, it turned out different…"

"You are aware he's the same age as your mother," he remarked.

"Yes, and fifteen years really isn't that big of a difference," she told him with a smile. "I want to talk to her."

"Victoria-"

"Rory," she corrected.

"Rory, I have barely managed to convince your mother to come back home away from the mental hospital," he practically begged. It was usually beyond him, but he knew the cost of her request. "If I tell her that you are alive, it will destroy her. To a normal person, this would be good news, but not to her. That's just not the woman she is. She will think that what happened was entirely her fault; that you grew up without a mother because of her."

"I did," she snapped.

"You grew up without a mother because Moriarty was too busy playing a game," he growled. "If she had a choice, she would have raised you. She got better because of your death. You were the thing both sides of her agreed on, and it was your name alone that started the crack that allowed me to bring her back to sanity. I don't know that I could keep her together if you tell her."

"I know she's not stable," Rory nodded in agreement. "That is why you are going to tell her."

"And why would I do that?" he asked her through heavily lidded eyes.

"Because you're perfect mechanical existence was interrupted with a spark of something you didn't think possible. You love Ginevra, and you couldn't hold this information from her even if you tried."

"I think you're wrong," he informed her standing. "I'm taking her and leaving."

"Fine," Rory answered. "It doesn't matter to me that you won't tell her now. You'll tell her eventually. I'll be here, or maybe I'll move to London. I'll let you know, Mr. Holmes."

"Stay away from her," he warned Victoria.

"Of course," she answered obviously. "I'll stay away until she's ready."

"She won't ever be," Sherlock assured her. "I won't tell her; I won't do that to her."

"Which is worse," she mused, "knowing and saying nothing or telling her even if it upsets her?"

"You don't understand," he hissed at her. "It won't upset her. It will destroy her. There will be nothing left to salvage, and I can't do that."

"I'll see you another day then, Mr. Holmes," she replied not really paying much attention to him as he left the room in a huff.

He was quick to make his way down the steps to his room he was sharing with Ginny. He slammed the door open allowing light from the hall to filter into the room. He saw Ginny's small form shuffle a little in the bed before she popped up to look at him.

"Sherlock?" she uttered.

"Get dressed," he ordered throwing clothes at her.

"But-"

"We're leaving."

"It's late," she reminded him as she slowly began pulling the sweater over her head.

"We have to go," he said simply throwing everything in their bags.

"Did something happen?"

"Yes."

"With the case?" she wondered as she pulled her jeans on.

"Yes, no… sort of," Sherlock answered. "Stop asking questions." He threw her bag at her, which she caught with ease before he pushed her out the door.

"But what about the wedding? And Victor? And-"

"It doesn't matter," he answered as they began to go down the stairs. "Quickly," he demanded at her slow moving pace. She hurried forward out the front door. Sherlock snatched the bag from her to go throw them both in the boot. Ginny yawned and looked up one last time at the house. She stared at the woman in the window watching them. She couldn't really make out anything about her other than her pale skin, but she could see the shape of Victor approach her. "Oh, that must be Rory," Ginny told Sherlock as Victor kissed her head and Ginny raised a hand to wave.

"Get in the car!" he shouted at her making her jump. She only ever heard Sherlock shout when he was bored and lacking a case, and it was never in anger at her. She quickly got into the car, and they left.

"He wasn't happy?" Victor asked Rory as they watched the car leave through the gates of the manor. Rory didn't seem surprised with the turn of events. Then again, Victor knew she never was. She could predict the outcome of a situation days before it happened.

"No," she sighed still sounding defeated. "He refused to tell her."

"Are you worried?" he asked, but it was more teasing than anything. She was never worried; it was just the sort of person she was.

"No," she laughed relaxing allowing him to mellow out as well. "He'll tell her. He feels obligated to."

"Are you so sure?" Victor wondered at her. "Sherlock would have done it right away without hesitation if he felt it was for the best, and he doesn't often change his mind."

"And he's never been in love either," Rory mused turning away from the window. She clasped her hands behind her back as she head back down the hall. "He'll tell her," she affirmed.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" Ginny asked quietly after an hour of heavy silence. He didn't answer, just gripped the steering wheel tighter. "Sherlock… let me just play out the events from tonight, so that you can properly understand my confusion. We have sex, you disappear, you come back and shout at me, we leave. Can you explain that?"

"Something… came up," he assured her.

"Something… came up?" she questioned slowly. "Can I ask what?"

"I can't say," he told her.

"Sherlock," she warned, "whatever-" He pulled off the side of the road unable to focus on driving when she was bothering him about this. He had to make sure she understood what he wanted to say to her.

"It will destroy you," he told her flat out.

"Are you being dramatic?" she teased him, but she didn't see any teasing or mocking in him. He was very serious, and it made her feel heavy. Part of her wanted to know, but the other part was utterly afraid. "Destroy like… like Raine and Jen will-"

"Yes, and I can't watch that happen," he told her. She stared at him for what seemed like forever as her eyes rapidly darted back and forth trying to find a lie, or a glimmer of teasing, but there was none, which worried her. Sherlock was the most clever man she knew, and he knew her well. If he said it would destroy her, well, she trusted him.

"Okay," she finally uttered quietly.

"Okay?"

"Okay," she repeated before silence fell on them again as they continued traveling down the road. Ginny leaned over and kissed his cheek, and he, in turn, looked over at her to ensure that she really was okay, but she wasn't. Her curiosity was getting that better of her, and he knew she would try every trick in the book to figure out what he wasn't telling her, but for now, she was choosing her battles. "I'm going to go to bed. In case you forgot, you did wake me up in the middle of the night," she told him as she pushed on the lever to recline her seat before she curled up. "After all, I'm a bit exhausted from taking your virginity," she told him with a snarky smile.

"Oh yes, because you did all the work," he quipped back at her rolling his eyes.

"If you'd like, next time, I could do all the work," she teased back with a grin keeping her eyes shut. He scoffed at her making her laugh. "Oh, it'll happen again. You know it will."

"What makes you think so?" he demanded being moody. She was used to it.

"Because you enjoyed yourself," she replied. "I'm just repeating what you said: you're an addict. You found something that brings you pleasure, so you'll keep it in your life."

"Don't be so smug," he discouraged.

"I'm always smug," she grinned. "That's why we make a decent couple, because you're ego is so inflated I'm surprised I haven't been suffocated by it. You're the King of Smug and Dramatics."

"I imagine that would make you my queen," he replied dryly causing her to laugh.

"Sort of sick isn't it?"

"Positively twisted," he agreed. She laughed again before she fell silent. It was a matter of minutes before her breathing pattern changed signaling to the consulting detective that she had fallen asleep. His mind, meanwhile, was firing at a rapid fire pace. He was unsure what to do about Ginny and about Victoria. On one hand, if Ginny did find out, she would be devastated, and if he didn't tell her before she found out, she would be more upset. On the other hand, if he could keep it from her, nothing would change, but it would still be on his mind. He would know. He needed someone else's opinion, someone who knew people better than him.

"Where's Jen?" John asked walking into the flat with Mary. Sherlock had his fingers steepled together as he stared at the ceiling from his spot on the couch. They had only just gotten back a handful of hours ago.

"I dropped her off at Hanwell. I'll be picking her up after her session with Doctor Walker," Sherlock told him coming out of his mind palace, gently shutting Ginny's room.

"Then why did you invite us over?" John demanded with a frown. Usually, it was Ginny or a case that was the reason for John seeing Sherlock.

"It's about Ginny," he answered. "I made tea." He gestured vaguely to the kettle and the three cups sitting on the table.

"Oh, it must be serious," Mary told John sitting down first and taking the chair near Sherlock. "She's not pregnant, is she?" Mary teased making John snort in disbelief.

"A bit of the opposite," Sherlock replied. "Victoria's alive."

"What?" John demanded. "How? You saw her dead, so did Jen."

"Here is what I believed happened," Sherlock said throwing his legs over the couch and sitting up. "I believe that Moriarty found a child who looked enough like Victoria that in a moment of grief, Ginny would mistake her for her child. I can't confirm it, but I think that she just took a glance before leaving the place. Ginny was expecting it, so she didn't think it could be anyone else. As for me, I saw a child who looked like Victoria. I knew she was killed by Peter, so I jumped to assumptions and memory likes to give you false images- even mine. My mind matched up the picture of Victoria with the memory of the girl out of convenience, but they are not the same." Sherlock got up and took a file from his desk. He flipped it open and threw the file down on the table in front of them. Two photos sat side by side of similar looking three year old girls.

"They could be sisters," John commented looking between the two.

"Cousins, actually," Sherlock remarked. "Ginny's maternal aunt's child. She went missing while on vacation in Ireland. She was convenient for Moriarty to kill."

"Why would he do this?"

"As Victoria's biological father, he stood a lot to gain from Victoria's apparent death. He-"

"Biological father?" John asked.

"Oh, Sherlock, I'm sorry," Mary uttered apologetically.

"What?" he asked confused. "Why? Why are you-"

"Because out of everyone, it had to be his," Mary told him. "A reminder that they've been... close."

"It matters little," Sherlock waved it off. "Ginny and I have discussed her relationship with James Moriarty. It's no bother. Now," he said clapping his hands together trying to get back on track, "he sought to raise her. She would be his heir and taking Victoria away, he thought, would bring out the worst in her. He miscalculated. It helped her get better."

"You're not sure whether to tell her," Mary concluded staring at him with sympathetic eyes.

"Victoria wants to meet Ginny, and she approached me about it," he admitted, "but I am for once at a loss. If I tell Ginny, she will relapse, but if I don't tell her, I will always know her daughter is alive, and she will never know. She has a right to know."

"You should tell her," Mary told him at the same time John advised against it. They both stared at each other. "It's her daughter," Mary argued.

"But nothing will change if Sherlock doesn't tell her," John counteracted. "She's getting better, and now isn't-"

"If it was our child, wouldn't you want to know?" Mary urged.

"But it's not," John scowled. "She's different Mary. Jen is mental, literally mental. I mean, she's one of my best friends, but even you can't deny that. Could you imagine what would happen if she found out? She might just put a gun to her head."

"John, she tried to kill herself when she thought her daughter was dead," Mary told him. "I don't think it'll break her. I think, yes the years she's wasted not knowing Victoria will devastate her, but I think, in the end, telling her is the right thing to do." There was a moment of silence before John cleared his throat.

"I think," John nodded, "that you should talk to Regina, Jen's mother. I think she would understand more than anyone what to do. Jen and Regina are similar, and Regina left her child. She would have insight we don't."

"If I go to her mother, Robbie will know, and so Mycroft will, and I won't hear the end of it," Sherlock argued, but he knew John was right. Regina would have to best advice to give. The similarities between the two women were uncanny.

Sherlock was unsure really where to start with Regina, but she was patient as she sipped her tea and looked around the flat. She had caught a flight from Germany immediately. Jen has been unaware of his goings on. She was suspicious, but he distracted her with a new found activity that sometimes (but more often than not in their case) involved the bedroom.

"When did you get better?" Sherlock asked curiously. "I mean when did you loose the multiple personalities?"

"I was about 40," she told him. "It was about ten years after I left the family. "It was because of Gina, you know? I had heard she was mental institution, and I heard she lost a child, and I just... I just had a break through. I wanted so badly to be there for her, but she declined my company."

"I didn't know that," Sherlock admitted.

"It was a hard time for her. I was devastated when I lost my second child," Regina told him.

"I thought Ginny was-"

"Oh, no," Regina said shaking her head. "I had about four miscarriages before I managed to have Gina. It was all the drugs and... my lifestyle... Robbie was a lucky accident. I had to work to have Gina. I quit everything, and I had to make sure all my personalities agreed on it, but you didn't invite me here to talk about me. What's wrong?"

"Victoria... Ginny's daughter... she's alive," Sherlock answered quietly, "and I don't know how to handle this situation." Regina cleared her throat before setting her tea cup down to look at him with a sort of absolution.

"Tell her," she replied without needing to think about it.

"But she'll-"

"Yes," Regina said with a nod knowing exactly what he was going to argue. "She'll need you there, Sherlock. Don't let her try and shut you out. Her reaction will be obvious. She'll run from you, lock herself in a room, maybe try and end her life, and if she doesn't, she will relapse, but this time, it may only be Raine that comes out of that room. To stop that, you need to either stop her from running from you, or you need to make sure she is not left alone. She's going to fight you; she's going to scream horrible things, but you can't let her go. If you're not there, that's it. She'll either die or be as good as dead, but you have to tell her. This is her child, Sherlock, and you might not understand that, but Ginny thinks that death is her fault. It will be hard, but this will make her better if she can get through the initial urge to end it. She needs to know."

"I can't just-"

"No," Regina uttered, "because I promise you, she already knows, but that's what she's good at. She's good at lying to herself, and she will never get past Victoria's apparent death if you don't help her."

"I don't have a choice then," he assumed.

"No," Regina answered firmly. He took a breath and stared toward the window trying to consider his options, but he knew he had none. He had to tell her.

A/N: So last time I was like yeah, I'm totally going to update on the 2nd. Well, I got my dates wrong. I meant the 9th and I just didn't know what day it was last time I updated. I'm still late anyway. Sigh. So I will be updating the 16th- this coming Saturday- for sure!

Thanks to reviewers: TinkerbellxO, zare . downey . okumura, Dream01, and hannahhobnob. Review please! I'll see you all next Saturday.