A week passes and things finally settle into place. Mycroft has miraculously removed the crowds off the street but Sherlock knows that the moment he steps outside, some random person will snap a picture and all he wants is to be able to breathe some fresh air, however fresh the London air can be. So when Mycroft finally suggests a day out in the countryside, this is the best idea imaginable, especially for the adults because both John and Sherlock, although having grown closer, feel trapped within the walls.

Mrs. Hudson finds a picnic basket and everyone, with the exception of Mycroft, gets together to make sandwiches. Jack insists he is a big boy now because he's five, so he makes sandwiches with butter, ham and cheese. They pack their food and drinks before fleeing to Mycroft's car, their heads down to avoid the media still camping out at the end of the street. John immediately notices a change in Sherlock's behaviour. While he is tensed and scared, the relief at freedom is obvious; after all, he didn't escape that vault, just to be locked up in an apartment.

Jack insists on being next to the window so that he can see everything and ask questions about everything. John is slightly concerned that the British government will snap and get a headache, but Mycroft patiently answers all the questions fired at him. Glancing at Sherlock, he smiles when he realizes he has fallen asleep.

As they turn a corner, Sherlock's head lolls sideways and onto John's shoulder. His heart stutters in his chest and he reaches out to touch a yellow bruise on his face. His pale and tired face speak volumes about the nightmares he won't discuss with John. He knows they exist because he asked Jack, in exchange for a jar of marmalade. Apparently Sherlock has always has nightmares, but he's learnt not to make any noise to avoid frightening Jack, as Sherlock confessed to him when he cornered him two days ago. John still thinks he's the bravest man he's ever met. Every time he thinks back to what his brain has labelled The Big Rescue, his heart twinges as he recalls Sherlock, severely injured, running and screaming his son's name. He wishes Sherlock's father could love his son as much as Sherlock loves Jack. John wishes he could be truly part of their little family unit.

He reaches out and touches Sherlock's face, the skin having aged remarkably well in spite of years of imprisonment. As his gaze wanders over his peaceful features, Mycroft clears his throat to interrupt him. The look he's giving him sends shivers down his spine.

John knows that he mustn't give the wrong message when interacting with Sherlock. Too emotionally scarred to have any sort of relationship, John knows that he is treading on delicate territory and must be constantly aware of how he acts around both Sherlock and Jack. Not to grab Sherlock from behind, no shouting in front of Jack, no accidental loss of temper. John is just glad to be a part of their family unit. Life was so much brighter than it had been a couple of months ago. It meant the world to be Jack's somebody.

Uncle Mycroft asks the driver to stop next to a big space full of brown grass and says he'll be back whenever we phone him. But that makes me sad because I have a special surprise! I made him a sandwich! I hold it out to him and I tell him that we even have cake! He stares at my sandwich, but maybe that's because I hid it down my new trousers and sat on it and now it's all squished and droopy. I do what Mrs. Hudson calls my Best Puppy Eyes, but uncle Mycroft just tuts and says he has a country to invade, but he doesn't leave before taking my flat sandwich and a very large slice of cake. He promises to be back soon and says he doesn't have a choice. Countries must be very small if he can take them over that quickly.

John looks angry that he's leaving. Pa doesn't say anything; we watch the car leave. The Somebody picks up the basket and Mrs. Hudson follows him. Pa takes my hand and I stare in amazement. There's squashy grass everywhere! Nothing else except the road. We take ten steps and Pa freezes; he stares amazed at the beautiful outside. He breathes too fast and before I can shout at him he has let go of my hand and won't stop running away.

"Pa!"

John and Mrs. Hudson jump at my voice and jump again when Pa shoots past them, faster than the elevator. John goes after him and Mrs. Hudson grabs me.

"Let go!" I scream, trying to get away. "I want Pa!" My sunglasses fall off.

"Calm down, dear." she tells me. "Your Pa just wants to stretch his legs. You've been jumping on chairs and discovering new things, but your father just wanted some fresh air. He'll be back in a minute." She puts my sunglasses back on my nose.

"But… but… But he ran away!" I sob.

She sits down on the blanket and reaches out for me. I sit on her lap. She bounces me gently, but it reminds me of Pa and Room and I cry harder.

"Oh, you silly boy, do calm down. Your Pa is going to come back. Running across a field with that leg of his won't get him far enough. So." She wipes my face. "That's better. Shall I pour you a drink?"

I sniff and wipe my nose on the back of my hand, because Pa isn't here to tell me not to. " Yes, please."

"All right, dear. Just this once. Not your housekeeper mind."

I heard her say that to John and even Pa once. That makes me special too. I sip my drink and think.

Sherlock can't think. Can't hear. Isn't aware of the pain spreading from his ankle and travelling up his leg. If he doesn't stop running then he won't be able to save them from the Monsters, but they're getting further away, no no no…

Someone is shouting his name behind him; it must be Old Magnussen. He's going to stop him from catching up with her, but he can't let her …

"WILLIAM!" he screams. "WILLIAM!"

Suddenly aware that his leg is shouting abuse at him, he stumbles abruptly and the person behind collides with him. He watches in mild fascination as the world spins and he wonders if he can keep that bee buzzing along over there…

Then the movement speeds up and he and his companion hit the ground hard and roll once. Strong arms wrap around him and he struggles. The person rolls onto their back and the arms release him, allowing them both to catch their breath. Tears run down his face and drip into the shirt of the person beneath him. A voice reaches his ears.

"My name is John, I'm your friend. Our landlady and Jack are with us. Your brother dropped us off at a field, there's a picnic waiting for us and you will eat your share or God help me. It's quarter past one in the afternoon, we're on soft grass and I'm just rambling to myself. But you are safe, Sherlock, and I will not hurt you."

Sherlock swallows a few times to compensate for his inability to speak. "John." he whimpers eventually.

"I'm here." Sherlock turns and buries his face in John's neck, catching a masculine scent that doesn't belong to the man who kept him prisoner. John has taken care of both him and Jack, has expressed kindness the way They would sometimes when She was pregnant and after that would come sex, sweeter and gentler and he would almost be tricked into wanting it… isn't that what people did when they lived together? His parents had sex, he'd had sex with the Monsters… but if it was consensual like most adults living together, then wasn't sex part of the deal? Maybe he should…

"Sherlock?"

"Do you want sex?"

John freezes. Sherlock can hear his slower mind creaking. "Excuse me?"

"You're wonderful to Jack and that's what people do isn't it? Have sex when they owe you something? You've been so kind, it's only logical… "

John grabs him by the shoulders and lifts him up off his own body until they are eye to eye. "Sherlock," he licks his lips and ignores the fear on the younger man's face. "How would you feel if we went and had our picnic and I took all of your sandwiches because I was so hungry and then I told you to have sex with me because I owed you? Would you have sex with me if I owed you?"

Cold dread grips Sherlock's heart; he clambers off John and kneels in the grass. "I'm sorry. I was thinking about Them and I panicked."

John pulls him against his chest and rubs his back. "I can hear Jack calling us. Let's go back and be with him and we'll discuss this with Mycroft later. Okay?"

Jack runs into his Pa's arms crying and John knows they've still got a long way to go. They've made good progress though.

Mycroft receives a text after an hour and a half. Or at least, Anthea does. He didn't want to leave his brother, but he couldn't refuse a chat with the Queen. She was technically his boss. Anthea purses her lips and looks at him.

"Doctor Watson says they are ready, sir. However…"

He raises an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Doctor Watson wishes to know if your brother has mentioned a William, sir."