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Chapter Text

Elara slipped quietly in to the Holmes-Lestrade household, arming the security system behind her. After her meeting with Air Marshal Thomas, the debriefing meetings had taken a god-awful amount of time and she was finally getting home at 1:44 AM. She had hoped to surprise her fathers for dinner, but she supposed waking them with breakfast would also work. Elara set her duffel bag down in the living room before heading to the kitchen to make a decent cup of tea. Elara put the kettle to boil before reaching for a mug when something suddenly brushed against her leg. Elara let out a small yelp before dropping the mug, which shattered upon impact with the floor. A cat hissed at her before dashing out of the room.

“What in the actual-” Elara started but stopped when she heard shuffling on the stairs. She sighed and began to head towards the stairs. “Well, there goes a surprise breakfast,”

As soon as Elara left the kitchen and stepped in to the hallway, something came flying at her. She easily blocked the item- a candlestick- grabbing a hold of it and twisting it easily from the grip of her attacker and giving them a light shove when another item came at her. She repeated the action- this time a heavy, hardback book- and shoved the offender back.

“Knock it off, you two,” Elara grouched.

“Wait,” Greg’s voice came from the dark before the light switched on, revealing Elara in uniform and Greg and Mycroft in pajamas.

“If a hardback book and a candlestick is the best in home defence that a D.C.I. of Scotland Yard and the British Government himself can come up with, then you both deserve a bit of burglary,” Elara said, waving her hand towards the discarded ‘weapons’ she had tossed to the floor. Both her fathers looked abashed for a second before it dawned on them just who it was that was standing in front of them.

“Elara?” Mycroft breathed out. Elara grinned at them.

“Hey, dads,” she said. “Was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d drop by,” Greg barked out a laugh as both her fathers pulled her tightly in to their arms. Mycroft kissed her head.

“Darling, why didn’t you tell us you were coming home?” He asked her.

“Why didn’t you tell me you guys got a cat?” Elara retorted. Greg chuckled.

“Alright, alright. Miscommunications all around. Let’s all have a cuppa. You hungry, sunshine?”

Twenty minutes later, Elara was changed out of her uniform and in to a favorite pair of sweats and an old t-shirt of Greg’s, a reheated portion of baked chicken with mash and green beans in front of her.

“When did you get in?” Mycroft asked her after she had eaten a good chunk of her food. Elara took a sip of tea.

“We flew out of Israel at 12:00 PM their time. It was a little over a five hour flight, but the time zone difference had us back in London at 3:00 PM. I didn’t tell you guys that I was headed back, because I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t be shipped off elsewhere immediately after the debrief meetings,” Elara said.

“How long were you given?” Greg asked her.

“Marshal Thomas gave me three days,” Elara said, scooping up a bit of mash with her chicken. “I’m to report back to base at 0800 on Friday morning. There’s a transport of medical supplies that Marshal Thomas wants me to fly out to a medical base in Kazakhstan,” Mycroft smiled.

“And just how long have you been Air Commodore?” Mycroft asked. Greg’s head snapped up.

“You what?” He asked with a grin. Elara snickered.

“Marshal Thomas promoted me this afternoon,” she said.

“Congratulations, Elara,” Mycroft said, reaching for her hand. Greg did the same with her other hand.

“We are so proud of you, sunshine,” Greg said, kissing her hand. Elara smiled.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m really excited to see what this has in store for me, but it is brilliant to be back home, even if it’s only for a few days,” Elara startled violently as the cat that had given away her position jumped in to her lap.

“I- I don’t-” Elara said, freezing. “What do I do? What does it want?” Greg threw his head back and laughed richly.

“He just wants to meet you, sunshine,” Greg said once he calmed down. “This is Caesar,” Elara glanced down at the tiny cat before looking up at Mycroft.

“You allowed this to happen?” Mycroft took a sip of tea.

“Do you remember on your last leave that something was making a mess of our rubbish bins?” Elara nodded.

“Yeah. Papa asked me if I could procure munitions for the war he was declaring and then pouted when I told him no,” Mycroft chuckled.

“Well, despite my asking him not to, Gregory took it upon himself to hold a stakeout a couple of weeks after you left. I heard the commotion from my office and came in to the kitchen to find him hosing down a tiny kitten in the kitchen sink,” Mycroft said, nodding to the cat that was now purring as Elara hesitantly scratched it’s head and ears. “When I asked him what he intended on doing with that thing, he turned to me and said ‘Caesar is not a thing, My. He’s just a baby and he’s hungry,’,” Elara snorted.

“Let me guess, he looked at you like a kicked puppy and you couldn’t say no,” Mycroft looked away for a moment, his cheeks pinking slightly.

“What was I supposed to do?” He asked her. “He had already named him and Caesar was actually very cute once Gregory had cleaned and dried him up. He fit in the palm of our hands,” Elara laughed as she looked down at the still-kitten in her lap.

“Well, I guess he is kinda cute,” she said. “What is he, about seven months now?”

“Roundabout,” Greg said, standing and retrieving a package of treats from atop the fridge, which Caesar happily ate straight from Greg’s hand when the man squat down to give the cat the treats. When finished, Greg scooped the cat to his chest and cooed at him. Elara raised an eyebrow and looked to Mycroft.

“Did he also marry the cat whilst I was away?” She asked him.

“I have yet to find definitive proof of a ceremony, but it is within the realm of possibility,” Elara laughed aloud. Greg did not.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Elara accompanied Greg to work early, hiding out in his office while she waited for Greg to bring Sally in.

“Greg, I love you, but I cannot look at one more photo of that damn cat,” Sally’s voice came from the other side of the door just before it opened.

“Oh, come on, Sal,” Greg said as he walked in to the room, dragging a disgruntled Sally through the door. “He’s adorable, and it’s a video this time!” Sally sighed, approaching the desk.

“It’s a cat, Greg. Tell me when it actually does something interesting. Or, better yet, tell me when you’ve actually got anything interesting to show me,” Elara stepped from the corner behind the door where she had been hiding.

“Do I count as interesting?” She asked. Sally whipped around so quickly that Elara wondered if she was dizzy. Sally grinned happily and shrieked slightly before engulfing Elara in to her arms.

“Elara! Oh, God, it’s brilliant to see you! When did you get in?” Sally asked in a rush. Elara giggled.

“Alright, alright,” Greg said with a grin. “Let her breathe, Sally,”

“I got in yesterday afternoon for debriefs, but I didn’t get home until really early this morning, nearly 2:00 AM,” Elara told her.

“Who all knows you’re back?” Sally asked.

“As of right now, just you, dad, papa, and Auntie ‘Thea,” Sally’s eyebrows met her hairline.

“You told me before you told Sherlock and John!?” Elara grinned.

“Oh, I figured you’d want a hand in helping me surprise them,” Sally smirked.

“I would love to,”

An hour later saw Elara and Sally at Baker Street. Greg had called John and Sherlock to the Yard under the guise of completing paperwork. Elara turned to Sally.

“Are you ready?” Sally smirked.

“I have never been more ready for anything in my life,” Sally said.

They spent the next twenty minutes locating every weapon in the flat- including John’s Sig- and moving them elsewhere within the flat before overturning tables, throwing drawers out of tables, and- just to annoy her uncle- ruining Sherlock’s sock index. Her Nanny Hudson had, unfortunately, passed away peacefully in her sleep two years prior when Elara had actually been on leave for the injuries she had received in Israel. Mycroft had paid for her services and had even had her posthumously honored as a Dame, as putting up with Sherlock Holmes as a tenant for so long was considered a duty to the nation. Elara changed in to a black sweat suit and a black face and head covering. She looked at Sally.

“How do I look?” She asked.

“You look like a cheap ninja,” Sally deadpanned. Elara snorted. “Shut up and get in the closet so I can call it in,” Elara giggled, but did as Sally said. An agonizing ten minutes is what Elara had to wait, stuffed in the hall closet with an assortment of John’s jumpers and the hoover.

“What the Hell happened here?” Greg’s voice said in awe as they entered the flat.

“Obviously there’s been a break-in, Detective Chief Inspector, or are you reaching the age in which you need a cataract surgeon?” Elara desperately tried to stifle her laugh at Sherlock’s snark.

“Sherlock,” her Uncle John said in a warning voice.

“Sally, why does it look like the door has been kicked in?” Greg asked.

“Because I had to kick it in,” Sally told him. “It was actually locked for once,”

“We’ve never locked that door,” John said, alarmed. “You have to have a key in order to lock it once you’re on the other side of the door. It prevents you from locking your keys in your flat,” John said. Elara could practically hear Sherlock smirk.

“Oh,” he said softly, right outside the closet door. “They’re still here, then,”

Elara grinned before busting out of the closet, knocking Sherlock over in the process.

“Sherlock!”

John shouted before heading straight towards Elara. Elara immediately faced John and engaged in a hand-to-hand battle, easily predicting the man’s fighting style and blocking every blow the man dealt. Elara watched the man’s face carefully as it finally began to dawn on him just who exactly it was he was fighting. He finally managed to shove her back a bit.

“Wait, stop,” he said in a firm voice, panting. “Elara, is that you?” Elara grinned, knowing she’d been caught out as she ripped the mask from her head, relishing in the fresh air.

“You’re getting slow, Captain Holmes-Watson,” she said with a smirk. John grinned back.

“Old age, Captain Holmes-Lestrade,” he said before sweeping her in to a massive hug, Sherlock hurrying to do the same.

“Actually,” Greg said, grinning in the background. “It’s Air Commodore Holmes-Lestrade now,” John grinned madly at her.

“Are you really? Congratulations, darling!” John said, pulling her in to another tight hug. “How long are you in?”

“Just a couple of days,” Elara said. “I’ve got to report back to base Friday at 0800 to fly medical supplies out to Kazakhstan. Once I come back, Marshal Thomas said I’d be able to take a longer leave if I choose,”

“Well, then,” Sherlock said with a grin. “Shall we go and surprise Molly?”

Elara crept quietly in to the morgue thirty minutes later- John, Sherlock, Greg, and Sally trailing quietly behind her to watch the show- seeing Molly bent over a microscope as she observed a bit of what appeared to be a badly diseased liver. Elara peered over Molly’s shoulder.

“Should’ve laid off the drink about twenty years ago, and the poor sod might’ve lived another thirty years,” Elara said right next to Molly’s ear. Molly shrieked and whirled around, nearly falling over only to be caught by Elara.

“Elara Holmes-Lestrade, how many times have I told you not to- Elara!?” Molly stopped mid-rant as she realized it was Elara she was scolding before hugging her. Elara giggled as she tightly wrapped her arms around her aunt.

“Sorry, Auntie Molly,” she said, pulling back and looking at the woman. “I couldn’t resist a bit of fun,” Molly let out a laugh and hugged her goddaughter once more. The rest of the group entered the morgue fully, revealing themselves to Molly.

“What is everyone doing here?” Molly asked Elara.

“I’m only in town for a couple of days,” Elara told her. “Dad and Papa are throwing a small dinner for me. We’ve come to invite you and take you back home with us for the celebration if you would like to join us,” Molly smiled brightly.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, sweetheart,”

Chapter Text

Mycroft and Greg were laying in bed three days later in the very early hours of the morning. Elara had returned to duty that morning- now the day prior- excited to be flying supplies to those in need. Mycroft- who was currently suffering from a bout of insomnia which was why both men were still up- was reading and Greg was contently sitting next to his husband, holding Mycroft’s hand in his right hand whilst petting a purring Caesar- who was curled up on Greg’s chest- with his left. Greg had just started to doze off slightly when Mycroft’s mobile let out a piercing, high-pitched wail, startling Greg so badly that he yelped and sat up quickly, breathing heavily. Caesar hissed, jumping off of Greg’s chest and burrowing himself underneath their bed.

“Christ, Mycroft, I thought Anthea got all the emergency alarms now,” Greg cried as he shuffled out of bed, kneeling down in an attempt to coax Caesar out from under the bed. Mycroft- who was finally beginning the retirement procedures- quickly made to silence the alarm.

“She does now,” Mycroft said. “She receives all emergency notifications and handles them accordingly. Only contacting me if-” Mycroft stopped dead in his tracks, the blood draining from his face as he read the alert he had received.

“My?” Greg asked, holding a still-angry Caesar to his chest as he slowly stood from where he’d been knelt down on his side of the bed. “You’re scaring me, darlin’. What’s going on?” Mycroft threw the bed covers aside as he jumped up, book laying forgotten on the bed as he began ripping off his pajamas and throwing clothes on.

“Mycroft, what-” Greg cried out, fear actually lacing his voice.

“Get dressed, Gregory,” Mycroft told him, gathering his mobile and laptop in his arms. “Anthea, Lady Smallwood, Sherlock, and John will all be here shortly,”

“I don’t understand-”

“That was the alarm for Elara’s emergency location beacon,” Mycroft told him and Greg sucked in a sharp breath. “Seeing as her location is in Russia, her plane has likely gone down and she needs immediate assistance,”

Back at Baker Street, John shot awake with a strangled cry as his and Sherlock’s mobiles both went off simultaneously with ear-piercing shrieks.

“What the fuck?” John growled as he threw the covers off himself and grasped for his mobile. Sherlock threw his mobile across the room before throwing himself back down on to the bed. John sighed, getting out of bed.

“’Lock, that’s not going to shut it up,” John grumbled as he got up to retrieve the device as he glanced at the screen of his own mobile. “It’s just going to make it-” John stopped mid-sentence, taking a few seconds to allow his body to fill with panic as he registered what he was reading before adrenaline quickly took its place.

“John-?” Sherlock asked. John tossed Sherlock’s mobile at the man before pulling his old army bag out from under the bed.

“It’s Elara’s emergency beacon. She’s activated it,” Sherlock shot up out of bed, all signs of fatigue now forgotten. “Get dressed and pack a bag, quickly. Mycroft is sending a car,”

Half an hour later, Mycroft, Greg, Anthea, Sherlock, John, and Lady Smallwood were all stood in Mycroft’s home office.

“Do we know what happened?” John asked tensely.

“All we know is that, according to the radio transmissions, Elara began taking on fire from an unknown enemy shortly after crossing over the border from Ukraine  and in to Russia. She declared herself to be a medical provisions plane with the RAF, but she continued to take fire before ejecting from her plane, which crashed moments after that. She is now currently somewhere in the Russian wilderness where her plane went down. Her location beacon on the mobile we gave her is moving, slowly, but it is moving. She is likely on foot, but we are unaware if she is being chased or followed in any way,” John let out a breath. Mycroft looked at every person in the room.

“Every person in this room is only in this room because I trust you all with the two things that I hold most dear to me in my life, and that is Gregory and Elara. Elara is now missing behind enemy lines and I am afraid that I must ask too much of you all, especially you, John,” Mycroft said, watching as John squared his shoulders and became Captain Watson right in front of his eyes.

“If you need me back in uniform for this, Mycroft, my answer is absolutely,” he said without any hesitation. “My family is in danger, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do to help you get Elara back,” Mycroft nodded before removing a file from his desk and opening it.

“In your personnel file, you did several snatch-and-grab recovery missions as part of a Special Ops Team,” Mycroft said, John nodded while Sherlock and Greg looked confused.

“That is correct, yes,” John answered, subconsciously maintaining his military stance. Greg let out a breath, taking the file Mycroft handed him and skimming through it before handing it off to Sherlock.

“You never mentioned that, mate,” Greg said.

“Couldn’t,” John said. “The files are sealed. I’m not permitted to discuss them until they are either unsealed, or someone with access to them calls me for questioning,”

“Lady Smallwood, Anthea, and myself were all MI5, but we never participated in any missions like what recovering Elara would take. You have, John,” Mycroft said, ignoring the banter. “John, if you agree to it, I’ll be asking you to head this mission to get Elara back,” John looked Mycroft dead in the eyes as he thought for a moment.

“I’ll need a few things,” John said. Mycroft nodded, reaching for a pen.

“Whatever you need, John, it will be procured for you,” Mycroft supplied. John began to rattle off provisions at rapid fire as Mycroft wrote them down.

“I’ll also need two more people if we are going to make this work,” John said. Mycroft’s head snapped up to him, eyebrow raised. “If you know of my Special Ops missions, then you will have heard of them before, as they were also part of that team and did several of these missions with me before we got disbanded. Please know that I trust them as much as I do every person in this room and wouldn’t be asking this of you unless I thought it absolutely necessary to our objective,” John said. Mycroft nodded.

“Who are they?” Mycroft asked.

“Colonel Bill Murray and Air Chief Marshal Beth Murray,” John said. “Both are retired, but if I ask, they will absolutely return to active duty to help. They have both met Elara once before and they absolutely loved her. They’d help me regardless, but if they know it is because Elara is missing, then that will definitely steel their resolve,” Mycroft nodded again.

“If you think they will be of assistance, then, please call them,” Mycroft said. “If they are willing, I’ll have a car pick them up and bring them to the airfield at 0600 hours. We leave in two hours,”

Chapter Text

Bill Murray groaned as he reached for the mobile that was screeching at him on his nightstand.

“Who’s ringing at this hour?” His wife, Beth murmured sleepily from beside him. Bill glanced at the caller I.D. before sitting bolt right up.

“It’s John,” he said surprised. Beth sat up immediately, all signs of fatigue gone from her as she looked at her husband.

“Answer it, Bill,” she said. “Put it on speaker,” Bill nodded and did as she asked.

“John?” He asked hesitantly.

“Bill. Is Beth there with you?” John’s voice sounded strained and clipped. Bill exchanged a look with his wife.

“Yeah. She’s right here. You’re on speaker,” he said.

“John, dear, what is going on?” Beth asked.

“You both remember Elara, yes?”

“Of course we do,” Bill said. “Darling girl. Heard she recently made Air Commodore,”

“She did,” John said.

“What’s happened to her?” Beth asked, knowing he’d not call them at this time unless it was dire.

“This line isn’t secure. I can’t tell you everything, but she’s gone missing behind enemy lines. We’re gathering an extraction team that I have been asked to head. Please know that you both do not have to say yes, but would you both be willing to join us? You’d both be reinstated immediately and paid handsomely for your troubles once we return with Elara,” Bill glanced at his wife, who immediately nodded, throwing the covers off and immediately began packing for them both.

“We’re in, John. Where’s the drop point?” Bill asked.

“A car will be at yours in two hours,” John said. “Be packed and ready. We leave at 0600,” Bill nodded.

“Understood, mate. We’ll see you then,” Bill said before hanging up and looking to Beth.

“This is not good,” she said, throwing toiletries in to the bag she was currently packing. “John wouldn’t be gathering the old crew unless he was desperate,” Bill nodded, getting out of bed and rummaging around for clothes for the both of them to wear for the day.

“We’ll know the full story shortly,” he told her. “Are you sure you want back in?” Bill asked her. Beth froze before turning to her husband and smirking.

“Are you?”

At 5:30 AM sharp, a sleek, black, unmarked car pulled up in front of their home.

“Think that’s them?” Bill asked.

“Must be,” Beth said, shouldering her bag as Bill did the same with his. They quickly exited their house, locking the door securely behind them before heading to the car. John stepped out as they approached.

“Bill, Beth,” John said as he held out his hand to shake theirs. “I’d say it’s good to see you, but, given the circumstances,” he said, holding the car door open for them to slide in to as he tossed their bags in to the boot before joining them.

“Have either of you two ever heard the name Mycroft Holmes before?” John asked them without preface.

“No,” Beth said.

“No, can’t say that I have,” Bill said. “I’m assuming he’s related to your husband, though, given the surname?” John nodded.

“Sherlock’s older brother, yeah,” John said. “It’s actually probably a good thing that you’ve never met nor heard of the man. Honestly, if Elara hadn’t disappeared, you both probably would’ve lived the rest of your lives never knowing he’d existed,”

“Who is he, then?” Bill asked.

“Former MI5,” John asked and Bill’s eyebrows met his hair. “I am not kidding you both when I tell you that he is the British Government. He can just as easily save someone’s life without them ever knowing they were in any danger as he can make them disappear with a simple click of a button on his mobile,” Bill stared at him, unmoving.

“You’re having us on, aren’t you?” Bill asked suspiciously. John chuckled once.

“I honest to God wish I was, but I really am not, Bill. Mycroft is probably the most dangerous man you could ever meet, but, once you actually get to know him, he’s not so bad. Lord knows his social skills are worlds better than Sherlock’s and he was the one to rescue Elara as a child,” John said. Beth glanced up at him, confused.

“Rescue her?” She asked him. John nodded.

“Have you ever heard of Cathal and Mallory Finnegan?” Bill thought for a moment.

“Weren’t they part of Irish Parliament way back in the day?” Bill asked. John nodded. “I think I remember hearing about their deaths. Something about an attempted abduction of the kid they lost custody of or something?”

“You would be correct. They were staying with Mycroft for a short spell and brought their child along. Mycroft immediately noticed the child’s demeanor, malnourishment, and injuries and managed to remove the child from them and have them arrested. Elara was that child,” John told them. Beth gasped quietly and Bill clenched his fists.

“We’re positive they’re dead, yes?” Bill ground out. “No possible way they could be behind whatever has happened with Elara now?”

“No, they’re very much dead,” John said. “Cathal was shot in the head execution style by Mycroft after he abducted Elara and me in 2018. I, myself, killed Mallory when she tried a second abduction attempt a few weeks later at Sherlock and I’s flat while we were minding Elara for the day,”

“Christ,” Bill said. “Sounds like this kid can’t catch a break,” John let out a weak chuckle.

“You don’t even know the half of it, mate,” he said. Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up to the air strip, where a private jet was waiting for them.

“This is us,” John told them as he got out of the vehicle.

He and Bill removed the two duffel bags from the boot before John gestured for them to head in to the jet, shouldering Beth’s bag as she led them up the stairs and in to the jet.

“Everyone present and ready?” John asked a tall man in a three-piece suit with piercing blue eyes, who nodded.

“You three were the last. I’ll let the pilot know we are ready to go,” the man said before turning to Bill and Beth. “Please, make yourselves comfortable. I’ll be back presently and then we can get started,” They all took their seats next to who Bill and Beth knew to be Sherlock, but also present were two women and another older man.

“Bit formal, isn’t he?” Beth asked as she buckled her safety belt. The man chuckled.

“Actually, that’s pretty laid back for Mycroft,” he said with a grin before holding his hand out to them. “I’m Greg Holmes-Lestrade, Mycroft’s husband,”

“Beth Murray,” Beth said, shaking Greg’s hand.

“Bill Murray,” Bill said, doing the same as Mycroft appeared next to them.

“I see you have met my husband,” the he said, taking a seat beside Greg. “My name is Mycroft Holmes-Lestrade,”

“Sherlock Holmes-Watson,” Sherlock said.

“Anthea,” the brunette said.

“Lady Alicia Smallwood,” piped up the older woman next to Anthea.

“Bill and Beth Murray,” Beth told them all.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Bill said. “Though, I do wish it were under better circumstances,”

“Agreed,” Mycroft told him.

“For security’s sake, I ask that we go by code names from here on out. Are there any issues with this?” John said, receiving no arguments.

“Right. If you’d all reintroduce yourselves with your chosen code names and what specialities you have, then we can get underway,” John said.

“Antarctica,” Mycroft said. “Former MI5, I hold a minor position in the British Government,” nearly everyone in the room scoffed or rolled their eyes.

“Love,” Lady Smallwood said. “Also former MI5 with a specialty in sharpshooting. I work with Antarctica,”

“Storm,” Anthea said. “Former MI5 sniper and am currently Antarctica’s P.A., training to take his place for retirement,”

“Valiant,” Sherlock said. “World’s only consulting detective. I also went undercover for two years to bring down the web of a mad criminal mastermind,”

“Fox,” Greg said. “D.C.I. with the NSY, and feeling very under-qualified for this mission,” Mycroft frowned slightly, taking his husband’s hand and squeezing it.

“Gallant,” Bill said. “Retired Colonel with the British Army, I also was a part of a Special Ops Team,”

“Honor,” Beth said. “Retired Air Chief Marshal with the Royal Air Force, though I was initially a Paratrooper and also worked Special Ops,”

“Asclepius,” John finished. “I was a Captain in the British Army, working as a trauma surgeon and combat medic with a Special Ops Team before it was disbanded and I was moved to the Fusiliers,”

“As I am sure you all know by now,” Mycroft began, “Air Commodore Elara Holmes-Lestrade- code name Light- is mine and Fox’s daughter. We adopted her when she was eight years old after rescuing her from her unsuitable birth parents. She returned to duty after a three-day leave this morning and was tasked with flying a load of medical supplies from London to Kazakhstan. As of 2:37 AM London time this morning, Light’s plane was shot down over Russia, just after she crossed the Ukraine/Russia border by an unknown enemy. Light activated her emergency beacon on the mobile I provided for her at the beginning of her military career just before she ejected from her aircraft. The location beacon is moving, slowly, but moving all the same, towards the Russia/Kazakhstan border. We are not sure if she is being chased or followed and we are also unaware as to any injuries she may have,”

“Do we know how long she has battery for that beacon?” Bill asked, taking notes from his seat.

“The device is top of the line and the battery can last for two days on a normal basis,” Anthea supplied. “However, if she continues using the beacon, it will drain the battery quicker. I’d say, if the device was fully charged, she’s got about a day before it dies,”

“She is attempting to make her way towards Kazakhstan,” Sherlock said, looking at the moving coordinates on his mobile. “Our best bet is landing in Kazakhstan and meeting her halfway if we want a chance at not getting caught-”

“Actually, Valiant, if I may?” Beth interrupted. Sherlock nodded and gestured his hand. “Thank you. While I understand that we must be stealthy, if we proceed with landing in Kazakhstan and meeting her halfway, we waste valuable time,”

“What do you propose we do instead, Honor?” John asked. Beth smirked.

“How many of you have ever jumped out of a plane before?”

Chapter Text

Greg Lestrade was feeling his age. He was dressed in tactical gear with an uncomfortable helmet on his head and a bulletproof vest on his torso that weighed a metric shit-ton, a handgun and a higher caliber rifle strapped to him, and a line of parachute backpacks lined up next to the jet door as he stared out the window of the plane he was about to jump out of, contemplating every single life choice that had brought him to this moment in time. A familiar hand on his shoulder eased his anxiety slightly. Slightly.

“Gregory?” Mycroft murmured. “You don’t have to do this, love,” Greg let out a breath.

“Our daughter is out there, My,” he said quietly. “She’s out there, alone, scared, maybe hurt. If getting her back means that I have to jump out of a plane in the most uncomfortable tactical gear I’ve ever worn and face down some unknown enemy, then I’ll do it now without hesitation and panic about it later,” Mycroft smiled gently, cupping Greg’s face in his hands and capturing Greg’s lips with his.

“I love you, Gregory,” he whispered. “Whatever happens, however this may end, just know that, Gregory. Know that I love you as I’ve never loved anyone before,” Greg blinked back tears.

“I love you too, My,” he said thickly. “You and Elara are the best things to have ever happened to me. Don’t think darkly, My. Everything will be fine. We’re gonna go down there and find our daughter and bring her back home,” Greg kissed him before the clearing of a throat stopped them.

“If you two are quite finished, then?” Beth said to them, smirking as they broke apart, cheeks pink. “Right. Since Valiant and Fox are the only ones here who have yet to parachute from an aircraft, then they’ll be partnered up. Valiant, due to your similar statures, you’ll be partnered with Antarctica. Fox, you’re going to be partnered up with Gallant. Asclepius, you’ll head us out and lay out the flares for us to aim for. Antarctica and Valiant, you’ll follow him. Storm, you’ll go next, followed by Gallant and Fox. Love, you’ll follow them, and I’ll head the rear and make sure that everyone lands alright,”

“Right, Antarctica and Gallant, if you’ll secure your jump mates,” John told them, securing his own chute to his person. Greg went very white, but stepped up to Bill.

“You’ll be alright, mate,” Bill said, securing Greg to himself. Greg let out a grunt. “Close your eyes and just breathe. It’ll be over before you know it,”

“And you can scream all you want if you like,” Beth said to him with a kind smile as she handed him eye protection. “Nobody will be able to hear you over the wind,” John opened the door to the plane and Greg felt the oxygen leave his body.

“Here we go, team! Remember, ten seconds, then pull your chute cord! I’ll see you all on the other side!” John shouted over the wind before jumping from the plane without hesitation. Mycroft and Sherlock shuffled forward.

“Ready, brother mine?” Mycroft shouted. Sherlock smirked at him.

“The game is on, brother dear,” Mycroft grinned at him before jumping.

Anthea said nothing to anyone as she dove from the plane shortly afterwards. Greg wanted to make a snide comment, but his mouth no longer wanted to work and his legs felt like jelly as Bill pushed them forward.

“Right, you ready, mate?” Bill yelled as they stopped in front of the open door. Greg realized then that his chest was heaving. He frantically shook his head.

“No I am NOT!” Greg nearly shrieked out. Bill laughed.

“It’ll be alright, mate. I’ve got us,” he told Greg, edging them closer to the edge. Greg suddenly wished that he was back at Molly’s with Caesar and that he hadn’t eaten the meal that John had made them all eat earlier. “On three, Fox. One,” but Bill never made it to three, having jumped immediately after one.

“YOU BLOODY COCK!” Greg screamed.

Greg squeezed his eyes shut, breathing rapidly as the weightlessness feeling in his stomach made him feel slightly sick. After the quickest eternity Greg had ever endured, he felt four taps on his shoulder, meaning that Bill was about to pull the chute. Greg braced himself as the chute cord was pulled and they were violently jerked up. Greg swallowed the bile in his throat, and then peeked his eyes open. Greg had to admit, the view was rather gorgeous. He actually might have enjoyed himself a bit more if he didn’t think he was about to die from fear. Another tap on his shoulder had him look towards Bill, who was pointing out the flares that John was using to signal them. Moments later, they hit the ground, Greg heaved out breaths as Mycroft stepped forward to unhook him from Bill. Greg’s legs gave out as soon as he was freed, being caught by Mycroft and gently lowered to the ground and in to Mycroft’s lap, where Greg leaned over and promptly vomited everywhere.

“Easy, Fox,” Mycroft said. “Deep breaths,”

“Here, mate,” John said as he knelt down beside Greg with a water bottle. “Rinse and drink,” Greg took the bottle with shaking hands and did as he was told.

“I- am never- doing that- again,” Greg heaved out between breaths. Mycroft chuckled.

“Don’t feel bad, mate,” Bill said. “A lot of people vomit their first go,”

“I didn’t,” Sherlock said, only to be elbowed by John. Mycroft rolled his eyes at his brother’s antics.

“Not the time, Valiant,” John said exasperated.

“Well, most people aren’t in their mid-sixties when they do this,” Anthea supplied with a smirk and a wink towards Greg.

“That was a low blow, Storm,” Bill said, trying not to grin.

Greg groaned and let his head fall back against Mycroft’s chest as he attempted to regain control of his now aching body. Yeah, Greg Lestrade was definitely feeling his age.

Chapter Text

“Right, comms check,” John said. “Asclepius checking in,”

“Antarctica checking in,”

“Valiant checking in,”

“Storm checking in,”

“Fox checking in,”

“Love checking in,”

“Honor checking in,”

“Gallant checking in,”

“Alright, then,” John said. “Honor, Gallant, you both have been given permissions to access Light’s location. Are you getting the same readings?”

“Affirmative, Asclepius,” Beth said. “We are reading her,”

“Brilliant,” John said. “As discussed earlier, we’ll spread out in couples. Antarctica and Fox, Honor and Gallant, Love and Storm, and Valiant and myself. Spread out and head towards Light’s location. Remember, we are behind enemy lines. Take out any hostiles as quietly as possible, only use the guns if we have to, as they will give away our position. We check in every half-hour via the comms. If anyone encounters any hostiles or Light, then reach out as soon as you are safe enough to do so with your location. Any questions?” Nobody voiced any queries.

“Alright, troops,” John said. “Let’s complete our objective.

They all split up, spreading out through the thick forest as they began to make their way towards Elara’s location. They had landed several kilometers away, not wanting to alert any possible hostiles to their arrival, so they landed closer to where Elara had first sent out her SOS signal. Greg and Mycroft walked for several long, quiet minutes when they stumbled across a mangled seat with a parachute attachment. Mycroft immediately surveyed the surroundings, carefully observing everything.

“What d’you reckon?” Greg asked after watching his husband deduce for several minutes.

“Light landed here after she ejected from her plane,” Mycroft said, kneeling down and turning his torch on to look at the ground. “She was briefly unconscious and woke up still strapped to her seat. There is blood on the seat here,” he said, pointing out blood smears where Elara’s right shoulder would have been.

“She unstrapped herself and fell to the ground, there’s drops of blood here and the leaves are disturbed,” Mycroft said, turning about on his feet in a very Sherlock-like way. “She made her way to this tree here, leaning against it as she bandaged herself up. Given the items she used, I would say she has broken a bone, likely her collarbone again,” Greg swallowed hard.

“Christ,” he said. “Is it- It’s an open fracture, isn’t it?” Mycroft pursed his lips.

“Unfortunately, I do believe you’re right, Fox,” Mycroft replied. Greg swore.

“That pain is unbearable,” Greg said, remembering his own injury from a few years back. “I remember Asclepius telling me when we first rescued Light that a collarbone break is one of the most painful breaks you can endure. He had no idea how Light had managed with it for so long. I can’t imagine how painful it is as an open fracture,”

“We’ll find her, Fox,” Mycroft said, reaching out and grasping his hand. “We must find her quickly, though. She’s being tailed,”

“Can you tell who?” Greg asked.

“I cannot tell who by a quick glance at the footprints, no,” Mycroft told him, kneeling down once more to examine the footprints. “But there are four separate prints. All prints are different sizes of standard-issue British military boots, men’s style,”

“British issued?” Greg asked, furrowing his eyebrows. “You don’t think-”

“She’s likely been set up,” Mycroft said, standing. “There is no way anyone else in any branch of our military would have gotten here before us and Storm, Love, or I not heard of it first,” Greg let out a breath as Mycroft tapped the earpiece comm in his left ear.

“Asclepius?” Mycroft asked.

“Go ahead, Antarctica,” John’s voice said.

“We have found Light’s seat from her aircraft,” Mycroft answered in a clipped tone.

“What were you able to find out from it?” John asked.

“There is blood on the seat and around the area. I suspect she has likely an open fracture of her right collarbone. She was able to bandage herself up, but likely fled quickly after. There are four sets of British-issued men’s military boots around the scene as well,” There was silence for several seconds, likely John swearing at this news.

“Understood. Do you have a reading on any other footprints?” John asked. Mycroft’s torch shone on the ground as his piercing eyes flew over the forest floor.

“Not for Light,” he replied. “It appears as though she has covered her tracks well. The men pursuing her, however, not so much,”

“Love and Storm, do you both copy?” John asked.

“We read you, Asclepius,” Anthea’s voice came over the comms.

“Rendezvous to Antarctica and Fox’s location. I’d like for you both to follow the tracks of Light’s pursuers. Honor, Gallant, do you read me?”

“Loud and clear, Asclepius,” Beth’s voice responded.

“Meet up with Love and Storm. I’d like you both to assist them. Valiant and I will be heading on with Antarctica and Fox to continue our search for Light,”

“Yes, sir,” Beth said.

“Antarctica and Fox, please standby. We will be with you shortly. Over and out,” John said before the comms went quiet.

“Antarctica?” Greg’s voice called from Mycroft’s right. Mycroft turned and walked to his husband. “Weird calling you that. I keep nearly slipping up,” Mycroft smirked.

“What did you need, Fox?” Mycroft asked. Greg shone his torch down towards the forest floor.

“Check this out,” he said, nodding towards the light. “Does that seem natural to you?”

Mycroft furrowed his eyebrows and squatted down to where Greg had pointed out. Hidden behind a tree was an odd assortment of sticks and bunched up leaves. Mycroft took out his notebook and drew out the symbols, which appeared to be dashes and dots of Morse Code. Mycroft smirked.

“Clever girl,” he murmured.

“What is it?” Greg asked. Mycroft stood with a small grunt and showed his notebook to Greg.

“Morse Code,” Mycroft said. Greg looked over the code.

“It doesn’t make any sense, though,” Greg said, confused.

“She has likely chosen a different language to use. Give me a few moments and I’ll see if I can figure out which language she used,”

“Might take a minute,” Greg said. “She speaks five other languages that I know of,”

“Eight,” Mycroft corrected, writing frantically in his notebook. Greg’s eyebrows raised to his hair.

“Eight?” Mycroft hummed in confirmation.

“If we aren’t counting English and BSL, under mine and Valiant’s tutelage, she learned Spanish, French, Italian, Latin, and German,” Mycroft said, not looking up from his notebook as he continued to work. “Once she joined the service, she also learned Hebrew, Arabic, and Russian due to where she was stationed,” footsteps behind them had Mycroft quickly standing up, whirling around, and training his weapon on what turned out to be Anthea and Lady Smallwood.

“Christ, Antarctica,” Anthea hissed as she stepped out of Mycroft’s aim. “It’s just us,” Mycroft immediately lowered his weapon.

“Apologies, Storm, Love,” he said. “Old habits die hard,”

“Everyone here?” Came Beth’s quiet voice from behind Anthea and Lady Smallwood.

“Still waiting on Asclepius and Valiant,” Greg said. “Here, I’ll show you the prints,” Greg said as he beckoned Lady Smallwood, Anthea, Beth, and Bill towards the prints. After several minutes, Mycroft growled in frustration.

“What’s wrong?” Greg murmured as he approached Mycroft, placing his hand on his husband’s shoulder.

“It’s none of the languages she speaks!” He growled out.

“What’s going on?” John said from beside them.

“Light has left us a clue in Morse Code,” Greg said. “Antarctica was trying to decode it, but it’s not in any language she speaks,”

“What ones have you tried?” John asked.

“English, Spanish, French, Italian, Latin, German, Russian, Arabic, and Hebrew,” Mycroft said irritated. “But none of them work,”

“May I see?” John asked, holding out his hand for the notebook. Mycroft obliged him and handed it over. John smirked after a moment of studying the book.

“Asclepius?” Sherlock asked. John glanced up at them.

“I know what language she used,” John said. “May I borrow your pen, please?” Mycroft immediately handed it over.

“How do you know what language she used?” Sherlock asked him. John smiled guiltily as he scribbled in Mycroft’s notebook.

“I may have indulged her a bit over the years,” John said. “She and I were out at the shoppes once when she was fifteen and I overheard a couple speaking in their native tongue about how to get to the embassy. I introduced myself and happily gave them directions. She begged me to teach her, so I did,”

“What language was it?” Mycroft all but begged. John smiled as he finished writing.

“Pashto,” he said before turning the notebook over and showing them what was written.

Heading for K. Walking wounded. Pursued. Hurry. E.

“She knew we would come for her,” Sherlock said. “She knew that Asclepius would be here. Nobody else, myself included, knew she spoke Pashto,” Greg grinned.

“She really is a Holmes,” he said. “Cleverness like that could only be inherited from a Holmes,”

“What are we waiting for, then?” Mycroft said as he pocketed his pen and notebook. “Let’s go and retrieve our girl,”

Chapter Text

Elara’s shoulder pounded in painful syncopation with her heart as she hurried as quickly as she could through the thick forest, checking her compass every few hundred metres to ensure she was still headed in the correct direction. She had lost her pursuers a while ago, having- painfully- climbed a tree one-handed and watching as four men came in to view and went in the completely wrong direction of where she intended to head. She was startled to realize that they were all speaking perfect English with no hint of an accent other than different British dialects. Elara stayed in the tree for another half-hour before she felt safe enough to climb down and continue her trek.

She continuously left clues for John. She knew her uncle would be present in the team to find her. She knew that, out of everyone in her life, her Uncle John was the only person who knew that she spoke and understood Pashto, having taught her himself. Not taking any risks, Elara left her Morse Code messages in Pashto. She did not know who shot her down, but she was positive that this was an inside job after she realized that the people chasing her hailed from the UK. She hoped against hope that her family found her before she reached the Kazakhstan border, but she couldn’t fully rely on anyone but herself right now until she had definitive proof that she was going to be rescued.

“Kazakhstan,” Elara kept murmuring under her breath. “Just need to make it to Kazakhstan,”

Elara winced as a branch smacked her in the face, cutting in to her cheek. Elara paid it no mind, simply adding it to the list of injuries she had. The worst was the open fracture to her collarbone, which was pain unlike anything she had ever felt before. She also had at least two broken ribs, a sprained wrist- thankfully on her already bound right arm- and, judging by the several bouts of vomiting she had endured, a moderate concussion. Despite all of it, Elara continued on, her only focus getting herself to safety so that she could keep her promise to her family.

“You come home safe, Elara,” Mycroft always told her before a tour, kissing her head and telling her that he loved her. Elara let out a small sob, only just noticing that she was crying. She stopped running, collapsing against a tree as she struggled to take painful breaths.

“Get it together, Commodore,” She ground out, wiping away tears, sweat, and blood from her face. She took as deep a breath as she could manage before continuing in a brisk jog through the woods. “Kazakhstan. Either get to Kazakhstan or someone else finds you first,”

Elara hoped that it would be familiar, friendly faces that would stumble across her soon. Elara was going to go as far as she physically could, but she was unsure if she would be able to make it to the border before she collapsed. She would much rather collapse after she had been found by friendlies rather than alone in some forest being chased by unknown hostiles for some unknown reason. Elara jogged for another kilometre before a rapid beeping stopped her in her tracks and she frantically dug in her flight suit for the mobile that was now screeching at her.

“No, no, no, no!” Elara cried out as the mobile flashed with a battery warning.

For some reason Elara did not know, the mobile was no longer allowing her to send or receive calls or messages after the initial responses she had received when she woke strapped to her seat. She wondered if it may have gotten damaged in the crash, but also wondered if the foliage was too thick and the mobile was diverting everything it had to sending out her beacon.

The mobile in her hand let out one last feeble beep before the screen went black. Elara resisted the mighty urge to throw the device against a tree. Growling, she stuffed it back in to her flight suit before unstrapping her bag and pulling out a bottle of water that was just above half full. She took a small sip, just enough to wet her tongue and throat before stuffing it back in to her bag and strapping it back to her person. Voices sounded in the distance and Elara’s head snapped towards the voices before she frantically made to hide behind a fallen tree.

“.…Got to be around here somewhere,” one voice said.

“No way she’s made it this far,” another voice spoke out. “We ought to circle back. She has to have left some sort of trace. Boss wants proof of capture. If we don’t find her soon, it’s our heads,”

“You don’t know the Holmes family,” said another vaguely familiar voice. “Their cleverness knows no bounds. You all know about that Sherlock bloke faking his death for two years. Showed up large as bloody life out of the blue one day. He took down that Moriarty fellow’s crime web. And the other one is even worse. He’s got eyes everywhere. Runs the whole country from his mobile,”

“He’s old now, though, inne?” The fourth voice asked out. “Why not just take the man out?”

“We could never get close enough to him to do so. The man has more security than the King has guards. He also can fight with a level of skill you wouldn’t ever believe him capable of. And don’t get me started on that bloody umbrella-sword-gun. Struck down my brother with a quickness and ease right in front of me,”

Elara stifled a gasp as she finally recognized the voice of the man. She was thrown back in to the past as memories of being abducted with her Uncle John from the London Zoo by two men hired by Cathal Finnegan flew to the forefront of her mind. Michael Shaffer, her mind supplied.

Once she had been deemed old enough, Mycroft and Greg had allowed her to read through the reports of her and John’s abduction that day. Michael Shaffer and his younger brother, Jackson, were the two cronies that Cathal had hired to snatch Elara that day. Elara had no idea as to how Michael Shaffer had gotten out of prison without Lady Smallwood, Anthea, or her father finding out. She also had no idea why he was coming back for her after all these years.

“Right. Let’s split up,” Shaffer said. “You two go back towards the scene of the plane crash. We’ll keep heading forward. Radio if you find anything,” Elara held her breath as Shaffer and his unknown partner drew closer to her hiding place. Like something out of a damn film, a twig several metres away from them snapped.

“Over there,” Shaffer hissed. “Quickly,”

Elara dared not breathe for what felt like an eternity as she waited for them to return. After ten minutes, Elara quickly knelt down to leave another clue for her uncle. She quickly arranged the twigs and leaf mounds, afraid she would be caught out by them returning as they had declared their intentions to continue east where she needed to keep travelling. Elara made quick work of her message before heaving herself to her feet once more, listening carefully for several long moments before taking a breath, checking her compass, and continuing once more towards Kazakhstan.

Chapter Text

“I’ve found another one!” Sherlock said after they’d been travelling for a couple more hours. John hurried forward, taking his own notebook out from his tactical vest and jotting down the message to translate it.

“They’re getting shorter,” Greg said, looking like he might be sick. Mycroft reached out and grasped his hand. After a moment, John went unnaturally still.

“What is it?” Sherlock asked him.

“Two words,” John said. “A name,”

“What name?” Mycroft asked. John turned the notebook around to show them.

Michael Shaffer.

“He- How?” Greg asked in awe. “He was sentenced to life, no chance of parole,”

“Someone high up must have gotten him out quietly,” Sherlock said in a quiet voice. “There is no other explanation. Every one of us would have been notified if he had escaped, if Antarctica or Storm hadn’t found out about it first,” Mycroft let out a breath.

“Let’s keep going,” John said to them. “I know we no longer have her location, but I think we’re catching up to her. These prints are very fresh. I’ve got a good gut feeling that we’re nearly there,” Just as John finished speaking, a gun shot rang out.

“Down!” John shouted, tackling Sherlock to the ground as Mycroft did the same to Greg.

They took cover behind a fallen tree and John wasted no time in returning fire. Mycroft had to admit that John had it down to a craft. John could just as easily save a life as he could take one. John trained his rifle where the shots had come from, using the scope to find his target. He took in a slow breath, releasing it steadily before pulling the trigger once. An echoing thud of a body hitting the forest floor told them that John’s shot had struck true. Sherlock made to move, but John stopped him.

“No,” John hissed out. “Wait. We have to make sure he was the only one,”

Greg slowly reached over and grabbed a small stone. He threw it several metres away to their right and several more shots rang out, giving John the opportunity to scope out his next target.

“Fuck,” John growled. “I missed him. I can’t see where he’s gone,” Mycroft immediately turned to survey their surroundings as Sherlock did the same on the other side of them. A single shot rang out, startling them all.

“Hostile is down,” Lady Smallwood’s voice rang out through the comms.

“No other hostiles currently in the vicinity,” Bill said. “I’ve done a perimeter of the immediate area. You all should get moving quickly. Our cover is blown now,”

“You heard the man,” John said, heaving himself up to a standing position. “Let’s move,”

The four men took off at a brisk jog. Greg thanked everything that had spent the last thirty years of his life chasing after Sherlock- and John and Elara later on down the line- and was used to this kind of physical movement, though he hadn’t been doing much running as of late. They kept on for another twenty minutes when another shot rang out and something hard slammed in to Greg’s chest, knocking him down and the wind out of him simultaneously. Mycroft immediately hit the ground and dragged Greg out of the line of fire.

“Are you alright!?” Mycroft asked him frantically, checking over the vest where Greg was hit.

“Fuck, that hurts,” Greg ground out through gritted teeth as he sat up, pain blossoming through his chest. “Just hit my vest. I’m fine,”

Mycroft let out a breath, unable to stop himself as he gave Greg a quick kiss. More gunfire rang out and Mycroft dared a peek from behind the boulder they had taken cover behind, letting out a shout as a bullet bounced off the rock dangerously close to his face. The boulder splintered a bit at the force of the bullet, sending small shards of stone in to Mycroft’s face, cutting in to the skin.

“Asclepius, where are they coming from?” Mycroft yelled in to the comms over the gunfire.

“I don’t know,” John said frantically. “I can’t get a good look,”

“We need to do something, or we’re done for,” Greg said. No sooner than Greg had said this, a single shot rang out and everything fell silent.

“Antarctica? Fox? Was that you?” John asked.

“No. It wasn’t us,” Mycroft answered.

“We are all still about a kilometre behind you,” Anthea said. “It wasn’t any of us,”

“It sounded like a handgun,” Sherlock said. “Not a rifle,”

“If you all are quite finished,” a hoarse voice rang out from the clearing. The four of them peeked out from behind their respective covers to the middle of the small clearing in the middle of the forest.

“I’d like to go home now,” Elara said, standing in the middle of the clearing, her right arm bound to her chest and her service weapon held tightly in her left hand. All four men scrambled from the ground and hurried over to her. Elara took a few steps back.

“I love you all and I cannot tell you how happy I am to see you all, but if any of you so much as brush against my shoulder, I’ll snap off your balls and force feed them to you,” Elara said. Greg let out a choked laugh as he wiped tears from his face, grasping for Mycroft’s hand as John stepped forward.

“Come here, darling,” John said. “I’ll have a look at that,”

“I’d really rather you didn’t,” Elara said, swaying unsteadily on her feet. “It’s fine where it’s at. I’d prefer it not to be moved until I am so far under sedation that I no longer give a shit about anything,”

“At least let me steady you,” John said, stepping forward and gently grasping Elara’s left arm. He pulled a bottle of water from his bag and opened it for her. “Drink all of this. We have plenty more,”

“Rendezvous at our location,” Sherlock said in to the comms. “We have located Light,” multiple voices filled the comms at once and Sherlock winced.

“I’ve got a code name?” Elara asked after she had drained the water bottle nearly all in one go.

“’Course you do,” Greg stepped forward and grasped Elara’s hand in his. “Wouldn’t be a proper rescue ops if we all didn’t have code names,” Just as Greg squeezed Elara’s hand, she promptly leaned over and sicked up the water she had just drank before collapsing in to Greg’s arms.

“Fuck!” John swore loudly as he dropped to his knees next to where Greg had gently lowered Elara to the ground. They waited with bated breath as John made quick work of triage.

“She’s burning up. The open fracture of her collarbone is infected. I need water, all of it, now!” John barked out.

Everyone rummaged frantically through their bags and handed bottles of water over to John, who poured them over Elara’s head and neck, being careful to not get the bandages Elara had applied to the wound wet. Mycroft pulled his mobile from his vest and feverishly typed away at it. John dug through his medical bag and grabbed several syringes and phials of medication, injecting them one by one in to his niece.

“What is that?” Greg asked.

“Morphine, antibiotics, fever reducers, and steroids,” John said quickly. “If she starts fitting now, she’ll puncture a lung and damage her collarbone even more,”

“Extraction is en route,” Mycroft told them. “ETA eighteen minutes,”

“What can we do?” Beth said, startling them all as they hadn’t noticed the other half of their group approaching.

“Not much we can do at the moment but hope she doesn’t fit and that our extraction gets here quickly,” John said, inserting an IV line in to Elara’s left hand and flushing it before capping it.

“There’s still one more hostile out there,” Lady Smallwood said. “He’s likely very close,”

“It’s Michael Shaffer,” Mycroft told her. Her eyes narrowed.

“How-?”

“I don’t know,” Mycroft said in a steely voice. “But I intend to capture him alive and find out,” John’s head suddenly snapped up.

“Get down!” He yelled out, covering Elara’s body with his as gunfire rang out once more.

Everyone scattered in different directions. Greg stayed by Elara and John’s side, helping cover Elara. Mycroft ducked behind a tree. The Murray’s both dove down and backed up against a fallen log. Anthea tuck-and-rolled behind a boulder with Sherlock close behind her. Lady Smallwood was the only one who stayed in place, dropping to one knee as she pulled her rifle, scoping out her prey and firing one shot, silencing all gunfire, replacing it with pained cries. Lady Smallwood smirked.

“Got him in the leg,” she said as she lowered her weapon and straightened up. “Shall we go and secure our prisoner?”

The extraction plane arrived precisely when Mycroft said it would. A team quickly exited with a rolling cot. John took charge in instructing them how best to deal with Elara and got her strapped to a backboard and on to the cot. They all piled on to the aircraft- Bill and Sherlock dragging a bound and gagged Shaffer behind them- after they had loaded Elara up. Greg collapsed to the ground, propping himself up against the wall as the craft took off. Mycroft knelt next to him as Greg all but ripped the helmet off his head.

“Are you alright love?” Mycroft asked him, cupping Greg’s face in his hands.

“You promise we aren’t jumping out of this one?” Greg asked in a hoarse voice. Mycroft chuckled, leaning in to kiss Greg.

“Not this time, Gregory,” Mycroft said. “I promise,”

Chapter Text

John worked feverishly as he and the small team of medical personnel tried to stabilize Elara. She wasn’t responding to stimuli at all, her fever was dangerously high and not coming down, and John was seriously concerned that, should she start fitting, she was going to puncture a lung with the two broken ribs she had. She needed more help than he could give right now and she needed it fast. He looked to Mycroft.

“Get us to the military base in Kazakhstan,” he told him. “She needs immediate assistance, more than I can give right now. She needs surgery and she isn’t responding to meds to bring her fever down,”

“Are you sure we can’t get her to-”

“She’ll die, Mycroft,” he told him bluntly. “If she doesn’t get to an operating theatre and get a blood panel done to see what kind of infection she has within the next couple of hours, she is going to die,” Mycroft went very white, very quickly before turning to the pilot and speaking to him.

“Is she really that bad off?” Greg asked in a soft voice. John pursed his lips and nodded.

“Unfortunately. I’m sorry to have said that, but it’s the truth,” John said. Greg left out a shuddery breath and swiped at his eyes.

“We’ll arrive in thirty-six minutes,” Mycroft said as he approached them both and gripped Greg’s hand tightly. Greg swallowed hard.

“She’ll be alright,” he said quietly as he stared at Elara’s still form. “She’s a fighter, our daughter,” Mycroft nodded.

“Indeed she is,” Mycroft said as he leaned over to kiss Greg’s head.

They landed on the helipad of a military hospital half an hour later. John- still dressed in his tactical gear- began yelling out Elara’s stats and injuries as the medical team rushed aboard and swept Elara off the aircraft, John hurrying with them as he held the bag of saline above his head. The rest of the group ran behind them, Greg and Mycroft leading them. Just as they burst through the hospital doors, John swore loudly.

“She’s fitting!” John yelled, moving to roll her on her left side. “Load 1.5mg of Midazolam,”

They all watched in horror as Elara’s body seized up. The medical team rushed to follow John’s instructions, a young nurse finally injecting the medication. Mycroft had seen Elara in the thralls of a fit once before. His mind flashed back to years ago when Elara had fallen victim to a febrile seizure. He had hoped to never see it again. He hoped that what he was currently seeing was a horrid dream that he was having on the plane ride back to London. Greg’s vice-like grip on his hand was the only thing that killed that hope. Elara finally stilled after a few moments.

“Let’s move, now! We have got to get this fever down immediately and she needs a head CT, x-rays, and we need someone from your ortho team to address her collarbone,” John commanded and they all disappeared in to a restricted area of the hospital.

Time slowed down to a stop. Mycroft could hear nothing but the pounding of his own heart in his ears. His hands shook. His lungs burned. His legs felt like jam and he fell to his knees. He was briefly aware of hands on his arms and someone frantically calling his name before the world went black.

Greg had- guiltily so- not been paying as close attention to Mycroft as he should have been. He had been more preoccupied with his daughter being carted off to emergency surgery as he came to terms with what John had told them on the plane. He let out a shuddery breath, not even caring to wipe away the tears that fell from his face. Mycroft’s grip loosened around his hand and he turned to look at his husband, who was taking in quick, shuddery gasps, his face white as a sheet.

“Mycroft, darlin’?” Greg asked softly as he moved in front of Mycroft, blocking the man’s view from the doors Elara had just disappeared behind. “My, I need you to breathe, love. Take a breath for me, please,”

Greg saw Sherlock cautiously approach them. Just as Greg started to try and get Mycroft over to a chair, the man’s legs buckled. Sherlock rushed forward to grasp his brother by the biceps and help Greg ease Mycroft to the ground.

“Mycroft! Mycroft, breathe, please, darlin’,” Greg pleaded as Mycroft gasped for breath. “Slow down, My,”

Greg’s words fell on deaf ears as Mycroft’s eyes slipped closed and his body went slack. A nurse hurried over with a cot, having been flagged down by Anthea and Lady Smallwood. Greg and Sherlock helped to get Mycroft on to the cot and he was also taken to a room. Greg, still knelt on the ground, let out a quiet sob and buried his head in his hands. A hand on his elbow startled him and he looked over to see Sherlock.

“Come, Greg,” he said in a low tone. “I know you were hit in the vest. You should at least be checked out. We can get cleaned up afterwards and see if we can find a decent brew of tea here,”

“Sh-Shaffer,” Greg choked out as Sherlock heaved him to his feet. “What about Shaffer,”

“We will be seeing to him,” Lady Smallwood said as Anthea nodded. “He was taken to surgery to have the bullet removed from his leg. Once he’s in recovery, we’ll be flying him back to headquarters in London where he will be questioned. We will find out who is behind this, Greg,” she told him as she placed a comforting hand on his arm. Greg sniffed and wiped at his face and eyes.

“Thank- Thank you, Lady Smallwood,” he said in a tight voice. She smiled at him.

“How many times have I told you? You may call me Alicia,” she told him kindly before turning to Anthea. “Dear, are you sure you do not wish to stay here with your family?”

“I’m positive, Lady Smallwood,” Anthea told her. “As much as I would like to stay, I know that Mycroft would want me involved in this investigation until he is back up on his feet to assist,”

“If you both wouldn’t mind,” Bill said to Anthea and Lady Smallwood. “Beth and I would like to offer our assistance as well,”

“Are you sure?” Anthea asked them. “I can have you both flown back home-”

“No, thank you,” Beth said. “John is our family. Elara and all of you are his family, making you all now a part of our family. We can’t do much here, but we can help you find and bring who has done this to justice,” Anthea and Lady Smallwood exchanged glances and they both smiled over at them.

“We would be happy to have you both, then,” Lady Smallwood said. Beth smirked.

“Right. We’re going to go and find somewhere to clean up and change real quick, then we’ll meet you where Shaffer is,” Bill said. Anthea nodded.

“Sounds like a plan,” she said Bill and Beth bid goodbye and well-wishes to Greg before heading off.

“Do let me know if you require any assistance,” Sherlock said to Anthea and Lady Smallwood. “I’ll be happy to help if you need an extra set of eyes,”

“Thank you, Sherlock,” Lady Smallwood said before turning back to Anthea. “Well, shall we?” Greg and Sherlock watched as they walked off to find their prisoner. Sherlock, his hand still on Greg’s arm, turned back to Greg.

“Come on. Let’s go make sure you’re alright,” he said as he looked to find a staff member. “My brother would never forgive me if I left you alone right now,”

Chapter Text

Mycroft came back to awareness very slowly. He was first aware of an uncomfortable bed he was laying in. He then became aware of the sharp smell of disinfectant. He wrinkled his nose slightly at the smell before becoming aware of a warm, familiar hand around his.

“My? Are you with me now, darlin’?” Greg’s soft, gentle voice came from his side. Mycroft’s eyes snapped open, revealing a hospital room, Greg at his side and Sherlock curled up asleep on a sofa in the corner of the room, a crisp hospital blanket draped over him.

“Gregory,” he whispered out. Greg smiled tiredly and kissed the back of Mycroft’s hand.

“How are you feeling, love?” Greg asked him.

“What happened?” Mycroft asked, easing himself up in to a sitting position.

“You had a stress-induced panic attack,” Greg told him as he held out a glass of water to Mycroft. “Pretty severe one at that. You passed out downstairs. You were taken back, cleaned up, and hooked up to some fluids. You’ve been out for about three hours now,”

“Elara?” Mycroft asked as he handed back the glass of water. “Where is she? Is she alright?” Greg squeezed Mycroft’s hand.

“Relax, My,” he told them. “Slow down a bit, darlin’. All we know right now is that she is out of surgery for her collarbone. They’re still waiting on labs for her blood work. She’s got two broken ribs and a sprained right wrist. Her head CT showed swelling on her brain, but they don’t know why. John’s ordered a spinal tap, which they did a little bit ago. They’re waiting on the results now,”

“What of Michael Shaffer?” Mycroft asked thickly as he processed his daughter’s condition.

“Alicia, Anthea, Beth, and Bill are all heading that,” Greg said. “He got out of surgery a while ago. They’re arranging his transport back to your headquarters in London for interrogation. Alicia is very intent on getting this resolved for you, and Anthea insisted on helping. She said you would want her to help with this until you were ready to assist once more. Bill and Beth have declared us all family now and are going to assist them- and us- with anything needed,”

John- who had finally changed out of his tactical gear and in to what appeared to be a borrowed pair of hospital scrubs- walked in to the room at that moment. He smiled tiredly at Mycroft and Greg before walking over to Sherlock and kneeling down next to him, carding a hand through the man’s curls. Sherlock stirred after a moment before cracking open his eyes.

“John,” Sherlock whispered out before scrambling to hug John. John hugged his husband tightly to him for several moments, preparing himself for the conversation he was about to have.

“Elara’s test results have come in,” John said as he released Sherlock and stood to face all three men. “Her collarbone fracture did become badly infected, despite her best efforts to keep it clean and dry. Because of the severity of the infection and the area of the infection, it went to her brain, causing encephalitis,”

“Encepha-what?” Greg asked.

“Encephalitis,” John clarified. “It’s swelling of brain tissue, usually caused by an infection or auto-immune response. In Elara’s case, it was caused by the infection of her collarbone fracture. It’s what caused the fever and seizures,”

“What is the treatment plan?” Mycroft asked. John let out a breath.

“Right now, we’ve got her on antibiotics for the infection, anticonvulsants for the seizures, pain and fever medication, and corticosteroids to reduce the brain swelling,” John said tiredly. “As of right now, we are managing the swelling well and she doesn’t need surgery to help reduce the swelling in her brain. I’m hoping it stays that way,”

“What else?” Mycroft asked, knowing there was something more John had yet to tell them. John sighed.

“In order to protect her, we’ve placed Elara in to a medically induced coma,” John said. Greg felt his heart drop to his stomach as he gripped Mycroft’s hand painfully.

“Can-” Greg started to ask, but his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Can we see her?” John nodded.

“Yeah. She’s hooked up to a ventilator, but do not let that frighten you. I’ll encourage you all to talk or read to her. If you are ready, I can take you to her,” Greg immediately helped Mycroft up and John led them all to where Elara had been placed, two agents outside her door.

“I asked them to place armed guards outside her door,” John told them. “Until we find out who was behind all this, she’s in danger. Until this is resolved and we’re all back home, I still see myself responsible for her safety,”

“Thank you, John,” Mycroft said. John nodded.

“Not a problem,” he said.

John scanned a temporary staff badge he had been given and the door unlocked. He opened it and they all stepped inside. Mycroft had to bite back a gasp at the sight of his daughter hooked up to multiple machines, looking small and weak. He approached the bed, collapsing in a chair beside it. Mycroft reached out a hand, but hesitated.

“It’s alright, Mycroft,” John said softly. “You can touch her. Just try not to jostle her right side and be careful of the IV site,”

Mycroft reached out and grasped Elara’s hand as gently in his as he had when he had first met the child. Tears glistened in his eyes as he reached out and carded his other hand through Elara’s hair. Mycroft wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure if he wanted an audience for it.

“I’m gonna go find us some tea,” Greg said quietly before kissing Mycroft’s head. “I’ll be right back, My,”

“’Lock, can I talk to you about something, please?” John said, getting the hint as he gently pulled Sherlock from the room, leaving Mycroft alone with Elara. Mycroft was quiet for several long moments.

“Thirty years ago, if anyone had suggested that I would be happily married with a child, I would have had them committed,” he said suddenly, never ceasing his ministrations through her hair. “Your papa managed to thaw out my icy demeanor. You melted it away completely, little one,”

“I cannot fully explain the feelings I had when I first laid eyes on you that day, and I doubt I ever will be able to. It felt as though I couldn’t breathe. Like my lungs seized up inside my chest. Every mark I found on you just caused them to constrict further. I knew in that moment on the air strip that I needed to save you. Later on that evening in the kitchen, when you showed me just how bad your injuries were, you trusted me enough to cry on to my shoulder, I’ll admit, I was a bit outside of my area of expertise in that moment. But, as soon as I wrapped my arms around you, I knew that I would never be able to let you go,”

“You and John were abducted several months later while I was in Berlin and my entire world stopped. For the first time in my life, I was truly and utterly terrified. I had just become a father and already I’d bungled it up. My only solace was that John was with you. I raced back to London, fully intent on burning the world to the ground if it meant getting you back safely. When Mallory took her turn a few weeks later, it started all over again,”

“After everything with your foul excuse for birth parents had calmed down, I had the privilege and pleasure of watching you grow from the tiny, frightened, timid child you were in to the beautiful, strong, brave woman you are today. I watched you follow your uncles to crime scenes. I watched as you saved Sally with the quickest glance upon first meeting her, much as I had done with you. I watched as you applied to medical school, as you became the youngest female doctor in the UK, putting any and all bullies and monsters you came across in their place as you did so,”

“When you signed up for the Air Force, that truly terrified feeling came back as I ran through every possibility in my mind. When you were injured, I- selfishly so- asked you not to return. You- my brilliant, brave, selfless child- simply looked at me with a smile that said ‘Everything will be alright’. I knew that there would be no swaying you further, so I dropped it. You returned to active duty,”

“Nearly three days ago, your papa and I were relaxing in bed when your emergency alarm went off. I regret to say that the thought that the alarm was your emergency beacon never occurred to me. I had given you that device thinking that you would have it, but never need to use it for its intended purpose. When I realized what it was, I sprang in to action, gathering everyone and putting your Uncle John in charge of our ragtag crew. Placing John in charge was likely one of the wisest decisions I have ever made to date. With his knowledge- and him bringing on two more people I’d not have thought to- we found you within a day-and-a-half, though you were badly injured, you still stood strong, ever the brave woman I know you always have been and will continue to be,” Mycroft finally felt the tears flow down his face. He let out a shuddery breath.

“Elara, I love you so much, my darling girl,” he whispered out. “I- I need you to keep fighting, little one. I need you to wake up for me. I- I don’t know what I will do if-” Mycroft broke off with a quiet sob. He took a moment to compose himself before continuing.

“You have made your papa and I so very proud, Elara. We are so proud of the woman you have become. You are kind, brave, strong, and courageous. You just keep being brave. My Elara never backs down from a fight. You keep fighting, little one. When you are ready to come back to us, you’ll do so. And we will be right here waiting for you, love,”

Chapter Text

“Alright, sunshine, my turn for a chat,” Greg said to his daughter several hours later.

Mycroft had left the room to go and speak to Lady Smallwood about the investigation in to the person- or persons- who had done this. Greg was alone in the room with her, both of his hands gently wrapped around her left hand.

“I’m- I’m not positive you can hear me, but every romance movie your dad has made me watch over the years tells me that you can. Speaking of, I need to get something off my chest: I know I pretend to grumble about the romance movies that Mycroft loves to watch, but I actually love them too. God help me, Titanic is my bloody favorite. God, I nearly bawled like a baby the first time he had me watch it with him. Hell, I still tear up whenever we rewatch it,” Greg trailed off a bit, smiling down at his daughter as he swept a hand through her curls.

“You’ve gotta wake up soon, sunshine. I’ve got so much to tell you, love. I got to be a part of my own James Bond film. John even got Bill and Beth Murray to help us find you and bring you home. I’ve got a code name, I was trussed up in more tactical gear than I’d ever known existed, and I got to go to Russia and now Kazakhstan. I even jumped out of a bloody plane, sunshine. Granted, I sicked up all over once we touched back down on the ground, and your Uncle Sherlock and Aunt Anthea had loads of fun taking the mickey out of me for that. You’d have gotten a good laugh at those jibes. Probably would’ve gotten in your own ribbing at my expense as well, come to think of it,” Greg brought her hand to his lips and placed a loving kiss to the freezing cold appendage.

“Everyone is worried about you, sunshine. Molly and Sally know that we’ve found you, but that you’ve been seriously injured and are currently stable. It was all Mycroft and I could do to stop Sally from buying a plane ticket here to see you. We promised her that if- God forbid- things are looking more bleak, we’d fly her and Molly out immediately to see you. Your Uncle John is barely resting, making sure you’re comfortable and well looked after. Your Uncle Sherlock is the same, but he’s not been eating again. I was able to get him to eat a package of ginger nuts after John threatened to insert a feeding tube if he didn’t eat something. Your dad-” Greg broke off as his voice cracked horribly. He took a moment to compose himself.

“Your dad is- He’s lost, Elara. He’s trying to maintain that strong front, but I can see right through it. I’m doing everything I can to comfort him, but I’m not you, sunshine. He needs his daughter. I need you too, Elara. We all do,” Greg quickly wiped away tears that had fallen. “You’re a fighter, sunshine. You always have been. I know you’re fighting so hard right now. Just you keep on fighting, love. You are so strong and brave. You’ve faced things that I could only dream of, and you’ve come out on top every single time. I just need you to do that for me one more time, Elara. Come out of this. Wake up, darlin’. I desperately need to see those gorgeous greens again, sunshine. You’ll wake up when you’re ready, I know, but I’m warning you now that Sherlock is getting bored. And God knows that a bored Sherlock in a foreign hospital is never a good combination,” Greg released her hand, bending over and rummaging in his bag for a moment before pulling out a tablet.

“You’ll be happy to know that I finally know how to work this bloody thing,” he said as he unlocked the device and swiped through it, selecting an app. “And I didn’t beg Sally to help me after nearly crying when I couldn’t turn off the flashlight, no matter what she tells you,” Greg typed something in before settling down in the chair and slipping his hand in to hers once more, propping the tablet up on a pillow in his lap.

“I think a blast from the past is what we need right now. Molly showed me an app where you can download books to your devices and you can read any time, anywhere on your device. So, without further ado,” Greg said as he cleared his throat slightly.

“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of Number 4, Privet Drive were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much,”

Mycroft returned to Elara’s room a couple of hours later, where he found Greg reading to Elara, his hand in hers.

“‘...we could have all been killed- or worse, expelled. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed.’,” Greg read in a high pitched voice before switching to his normal speaking voice. “I know that the movie has Ron say that she needs to get her priorities straight. I dunno about you, but if I’d been lucky enough to attend a wizard school, I’d agree with Hermione on that one. They could pry my wand out of my cold, dead mitts,” Mycroft let out an unintentional snort, startling Greg.

“Hey, My,” Greg said with a sheepish grin. “We were just reading,” Mycroft smiled, entering the room fully and pulling up a chair beside his husband before taking a seat, resting his head against Greg’s shoulder.

“You seem to have some strong opinions about it,” Mycroft teased. Greg smiled, kissing Mycroft’s head.

“I said what I said. I regret nothing,” Greg said. They were quiet for several minutes.

“She’ll be alright, My,” Greg murmured to him. “I know she will. She’ll wake up soon enough,” Mycroft nodded against Greg’s chest.

“I do hope you are right,” Mycroft said. Greg kissed his head once more.

“’Course I am, darlin’,” Greg said. “As Sherlock has told me in the past, I am painfully optimistic,” Mycroft snickered.

“Well, don’t let my presence halt you from your reading,” Mycroft told him. “Please continue. If you keep interrupting the story with your opinions, she may wake up and smack you for not getting on with the book quick enough,” Greg chuckled before continuing on with the book.

Elara didn’t wake up that day. Or the day after that. Or the next seven days that followed them. At the two week mark, Elara spiked a bad fever and John and his team had to usher them out of the room for a bit to stabilize her. After Greg and Mycroft had broken down outside the room, Greg- once he had calmed down and was sure Mycroft would be alright- left to go and phone Anthea to see if she could arrange Molly and Sally to be flown out to see Elara. When Greg returned, he found Mycroft back in Elara’s room, sobbing quietly as he held their daughter’s hand and brushed his fingers through her hair.

“It’s alright, little one,” Mycroft choked out. “You don’t have to hold on. You can rest now if you need to. Let go if you need to, Elara. Just know that you are so very loved, little one. It’s alright. We will be alright,”

Greg let out a choked sob at Mycroft’s words. Mycroft glanced up and silently held his hand out to Greg, who stepped forward and took it immediately. Both men remained that way for the rest of the night, crying in a vigil next to their daughter’s bed, all three hands in a mound atop the bed sheets.

Chapter Text

Greg was first aware of an odd choking noise as he woke up, an awful crick in his neck from where he’d been hunched over. He winced, stretching out his neck a bit before he opened his eyes to see what was making that noise. His eyes flew wide open, all thoughts of pain and fatigue gone from his person as he watched his daughter fight the breathing tube. He shook Mycroft before jumping up and running for the door, locating John as he walked by with Sherlock.

“John! Get in here, please, quickly!” Greg called, startling the man slightly before John and Sherlock ran in to the room after him.

Nobody could tell that Mycroft had just been sleeping seconds prior. His eyes were bright and alert as he gripped Elara’s hand, murmuring to her softly as he brushed the hair back on her head. Elara’s eyes remained closed, but she continued to fight the breathing tube. John rushed forward.

“Give me a bit of space, please, Mycroft,” John asked.

Mycroft reluctantly retreated to where Sherlock and Greg stood. Mycroft stood between Sherlock and Greg, gripping his husband’s hand so tightly that he worried about both their circulations. After a moment, Sherlock’s hand found Mycroft’s free one and Mycroft took his little brother’s hand without any hesitation.

“I’m going to take the breathing tube out,” John told them, donning a pair of gloves. “She appears to be breathing on her own and is on the brink of consciousness, which is why she’s choking. Her gag reflex is working again. She’s coming out of it,”

They all watched as John removed the breathing tube with a practiced ease, talking to Elara, detailing everything he was doing before and as he did it, much like he had done when she was a small child. John placed a nasal cannula of oxygen around her face before he continued to check her vitals, nodding in approval as he jotted down his findings. He glanced up at the trio and smiled more warmly and brightly than he had since Elara had left for her mission.

“Nearly there, gentlemen. Not long now,”

Elara woke to an odd, muffled silence. She kept her eyes shut, not knowing where she was or what had happened to her. She wasn’t in any pain. She felt her right arm strapped tightly to her side and the bed underneath of her, telling her that she was in hospital somewhere. Elara tried to think back, but the last thing she remembered was shooting a hostile to save her dads and uncles. She didn’t remember anything after that. She felt a hand around her free left hand. She used every ounce of strength she had to squeeze it. Elara was aware of a muffled voice before she drifted back to unconsciousness once more.

When she woke again, it was much more sudden. Her eyes snapped open with a gasp as she felt a sharp pain through her collarbone. A hand on her face startled her and she let out a yelp and flinched back. The hand immediately left her face and Elara glanced over after a moment to see her dads, tears coursing down their faces. Elara let out a small sob, reaching out to them with her good arm. They immediately engulfed her gently in to their arms as best as they could. Mycroft kissed his daughter on the head before looking at her and saying….something.

“What?” Elara croaked out, her throat on fire. Greg held out a cup of what turned out to be water to her and she drank slowly to calm the fire in her throat. Greg said….something to her, but it was whispered out and she couldn’t understand what exactly it was that he had said. Elara was getting annoyed. Why were they whispering?

“Stop whispering, please,” she ground out in a hoarse voice. “I can’t hear you,” Mycroft and Greg froze, exchanging glances. Mycroft turned and said something to Greg, who nodded and left the room. Mycroft turned to Elara.

“We weren’t whispering, Elara,” he said in a voice that Elara could hear a little better, but he signed along to what he was saying. “I am borderline shouting now. Can you hear me?” Elara nodded.

“I can hear and understand you now, but it’s really muffled. Like everything is underwater,” Mycroft nodded, turning as Greg re-entered the room with John hot on his heels.

“She’s not able to hear properly,” Mycroft told him. “She is alert and coherent, but she can’t hear very well. She thought Gregory and I were whispering when we were speaking in a normal voice. I had to nearly shout for her to hear and understand what I was saying, though she said it was still muffled,” John nodded.

“Right. Mycroft, my BSL is a bit rusty, I’m afraid. Would you mind translating what I say, please? I don’t want to shout and disturb other patients on this floor,”

“Of course, John,” Mycroft said as he led John to Elara’s bed. Elara smiled tiredly and reached out her hand. John knelt down and grasped her hand, placing a relieved kiss on her head. He pulled away and pointed at Mycroft.

John will speak to you. I will translate for you, little one. Elara smiled and nodded that she understood.

“Elara, I firstly want to say how proud I am of you, darling,” John said, sweeping the hair off her forehead. “The Morse Code in Pashto was sheer brilliance,” Elara smiled and squeezed his hand.

“Knew you’d be the one of the ones to come for me,” she said, her voice cracking horridly. John gave her more water.

“I’m going to ask you some questions now,” John told her. “You know the drill. Answer as honestly as you can,” Elara nodded.

“What is your full name?”

“Elara Carissa Holmes-Lestrade, my original birth name was Renee Aimee Finnegan,” John nodded.

“What is your birth date?”

“For my safety, dad had it changed to 17^th September, 2009,”

“Well done. Who are your current family?”

“Mycroft and Greg Holmes-Lestrade are my fathers. You, Doctor John Holmes-Watson, and Sherlock Holmes-Watson are my uncles. I’ve also got my Aunties Molly Hooper and Anthea, and Lady Alicia Smallwood and Sergeant Sally Donovan are very good friends as well,” John smiled.

“Well done, darling. Are you feeling any pain anywhere?”

“Collarbone smarts a bit,” Elara said with a wince. “Bit of a headache too, but my throat is housing the fires of Hell, I’m assuming from a breathing tube. Was I intubated?”

“Your collarbone was infected badly by the time we got to you. You collapsed in Greg’s arms and your fever got so high that, by the time we got to hospital in Kazakhstan, you started seizing. The infection caused encephalitis and we had to  place you in a medically induced coma. You’ve been out for about two-and-a-half weeks now,” Elara nodded as she watched her father translate what her uncle was saying.

“You think the encephalitis caused the hearing loss?” John pursed his lips but nodded.

“I’m afraid so, yes,” he said. “Hopefully, it will return with time as you get better, but I’m still going to have an audiologist take a look. You’re also next in line for another head CT,” Elara nodded. At that moment, Sherlock burst in to the room, chest heaving, mobile in hand as he looked around wildly, his eyes landing on Elara.

“Bee,” he gasped out. Elara glanced at Mycroft, who translated.

“Hey, Uncle ‘Lock,” Elara said with a tired smile. Sherlock looked to Mycroft, concern on his face.

“We think the encephalitis damaged her hearing. She’s about to go for another CT and I’ll be calling in an audiologist to take a look,” Mycroft told him. Sherlock nodded at his brother before turning to Elara and kneeling down next to her, pulling her gently in to his arms. He pulled away from her.

I am so happy you are alright, bee. He signed to her. Elara smiled.

“Thank you all for coming to get me,” she rasped out, wincing at the pain in her throat, giving up and switching to a clumsy, one-handed sign language to spare herself more pain.

Does the RAF know what happened and where I am at? She asked. Mycroft nodded before replying to her.

They were notified of what happened as soon as you were retrieved. We have been keeping them up to date on your condition. You should know that you have been honorably discharged due to injury during service. Elara let out a breath, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them and responding.

I think I’m okay with that after everything that just happened. Elara paused for a moment, furrowing her eyebrows before directing a question at her father. What did happen, actually? The men pursuing me were not foreign hostiles and someone brought Shaffer back in to this. Who shot me down?

We don’t know as of yet. Mycroft signed to her. But I have every intention of finding out.

Over 5,200 kilometres away, a lone man in an empty office ended a call on his mobile. After a few seconds of unmoving silence, he let out a guttural yell before throwing the mobile against the wall, shattering the device. The man stalked from the room, entering a neat bedroom and retrieving a bag from under his bed.

“Bloody incompetent fools,” he growled as he aggressively stuffed clothing in to the bag. “Don’t know why I thought they would be able to achieve what I asked,” the man turned to his bedside table and removed his Browning from the drawer.

“Well, it’s as they say: You want something done right,” he said as he loaded the weapon like it was second nature before tucking it in to the bag. “You need to do it yourself,”

Chapter Text

Lady Smallwood, Bill, and Beth watched through one-way glass as Anthea walked in to the interrogation room.

“Been a while since we watched one of these,” Bill murmured under his breath to Beth, who smirked.

“I was usually on the other side of the glass,” she whispered back and Bill chuckled.

“You are more than welcome to have a go if you’d like,” Lady Smallwood told her with a sly smile. “I’ve had a chance to see some of your interrogations. Highly entertaining. If you ever are in need of a job, do let me know,” Beth grinned widely and took the contact card that Lady Smallwood held out to her with a smirk.

“Michael Shaffer,” Anthea said, flipping casually through a file she held in her hands. “In and out of prison from the age of fifteen, and my word it’s quite the rap sheet. Ties to gangs. Domestic violence. Illegal weapons. Assault- both, physical and sexual. Known affiliations with white supremacy groups. Kidnapping. Child abuse,” she rattled off in an even voice. “You were quite the busy boy up until January of 2018. You received a life sentence with no chance of parole for your role in the abduction of Doctor John Watson and Elara Holmes under the direction of Cathal and Mallory Finnegan,”

“You seem to have a track record of being unable to think or act for yourself, unless it involves violence upon a woman,” Anthea said coolly as she eyed him with a steely gaze. “You were a runner for the gang you belonged to, you happily tagged along to all the foul events the white supremacy group you were associating with hosted but you never suggested anything, and you were Cathal Finnegan’s bitch,” Shaffer flinched as she slammed the file down in front of her. She leaned forward slightly.

“You did not head this. You are neither smart enough nor brave enough to come up with and carry through something like this,” she said. “Who hired you, why did they choose you, and why was Air Commodore Elara Holmes-Lestrade your target?” Silence was all Anthea received as a reply. She smirked.

“You’re adorable. This is adorable,” she said as she nodded in his direction. “You do realize that giving you your prescribed pain medication for your leg is not something I have any qualms with no longer providing?” Finally, she had gained a response.

“That’s not humane,” Shaffer said. “That is my human right-”

“And so is choosing to go to a Synagogue or a Mosque,” Anthea seethed. “So is being a different race. So is being a woman who wants to leave you for someone better or tells you no when they don’t want to do something. So is a child who was just trying to enjoy a day out with her father and uncle,” Shaffer sneered at her.

“That girl was not Holmes’ to take,” he spat out at her.

“That was not your decision to make,” Anthea fired back, purposely giving a kick to Shaffer’s bandaged leg, causing a pained groan to escape the man. “Now answer my questions before I bring someone else in to extract the answers from you,” Shaffer then spat right in Anthea’s face. Anthea smiled a deadly smirk as Bill and Beth burst in to the room, securing a spit hood to Shaffer’s head.

“Change out the cuffs with ropes,” Beth told Bill, who obliged. “He’ll be wanting the cuffs back once those ropes rub his wrists raw,” she turned and handed a sanitizing wipe to Anthea, who took it.

“Would you like a go, Honor?” Anthea asked. Beth grinned.

“I would love to,” Beth replied. Bill made eye contact with his wife, a silent question in his gaze.

“You can go, Gallant,” she told him as she fixed Shaffer with a look. “I’ll be just fine here,” Bill led Anthea out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

“I’ve read through your file as well,” Beth said as she picked up the ledger in front of her and skimmed through it.

“I see that you dislocated Elara’s shoulder when she was eight years old,” Beth murmured. She looked up at him. “Are you aware of the practice of strappado?” Shaffer said nothing, but raised an eyebrow slightly in a questioning manner.

“Strappado, Mr. Shaffer, is not only a type of torture, but also the name of the torture device,” Beth said, leaning back in her chair nonchalantly. “In the case of strappado, a victim’s hands are tied behind his or her back. A long rope is then tied to the bound wrists. The victim is then hoisted up in to the air- if they’re lucky, then there will be no added weights to their feet- resulting in eventual dislocation of both shoulders. The victim is then left there to hang. If the victim is not meant to die, then he or she would only hang for an hour or so. If the victim is meant to die, then he or she would be left to hang until death. If the victim is lucky enough, he or she would die of exposure and/or dehydration and starvation before the birds and bugs get to them,” Shaffer had gone pale.

“Though, if it were me, I’d have smeared the victim’s face with honey before being hoisted up. That way it would ensure the birds and bugs got to the victim whilst still alive,” Beth said thoughtfully before glancing at Shaffer and smiling. “I also hear you like to beat and assault women as well as children? It says here you violently assaulted an ex-girlfriend of yours. Cut up her face pretty good, too,”

“You know, from around the 10^th century, China employed something called Lingchi, which translates to ‘Slow Slicing’. It’s also known as ‘Death by A Thousand Cuts’. The executioner would take a very sharp knife or sword and cut small, but deep, cuts in to the victim- sometimes removing small pieces of skin or tissue- over a long period of time. It was taken quite literally, lingchi. The victim was tied down, usually in a public area. Did you know that lingchi wasn’t outlawed in China until as recently as 1905? In China, lingchi was only saved for the most heinous of crimes- high treason, mass murder, familicide, murder of a master/superior, and the like,” Beth said as she examined her fingernails. She glanced up at Shaffer, who had turned a nasty shade of green.

“In my book, Mr. Shaffer, there is nothing more heinous than child abuse and sexual assault,” Beth said coldly before pulling a wicked-looking blade from her belt and placing it down on the table in front of him.

“I- I dunno who it was that hired us,” Shaffer said quickly, sweat breaking out across his forehead. “I just know that he had unfinished business with Mycroft Holmes,”

“Who were the other three men with you?” Beth asked. Shaffer shrugged as best he could whilst being tied to his chair.

“There- They were former convicts. I dunno why we were all chosen, but we all had one thing in common: Every one of us agreed to do this because we had unresolved business with a Holmes. Be it Mycroft, his freak of a brother, his D.I. husband, or the girl herself,” Shaffer told her. Beth raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Who were they? Why were they chosen? Do not make me repeat myself again,” Beth said, picking up the blade and lightly poking her own finger, immediately drawing a small bead of blood even though she hadn’t applied much pressure at all. Shaffer swallowed hard.

“One of them, Cross, he’d had issues with the girl several years ago. Lost his job and he could never find a well-paying job again that would hire him after that. There was a former doctor as well. Charles he said his name was. He was the second one I met. I guess the D.I. Holmes is married to took him down for mishandling the girl when she was younger and then Holmes had him fired and his medical license revoked. I dunno exactly. The last one wasn’t much of a talker. As far as I understood, he used to live in the same building as Holmes and Watson and they tossed him out for something one day. I didn’t even know his name,”

“Would you be able to identify all the men if we showed you a photo lineup?” Beth asked.

“Y-yeah. Should be able to,” Beth smirked as she twirled the blade in her fingers.

“You’ve still not answered one question,” Beth said. “Why was Elara your target?” Shaffer let out a breath.

“I can’t answer that. I just know I was let out of prison and asked if I wanted revenge on a Holmes,” Shaffer said. Beth inclined her head.

“You’ll be taken back to a cell shortly. You’ll be pulled again if we have any more questions,” she said as she stood and turned to the door. Just as Beth removed the security card to scan and let her out of the interrogation room, Shaffer spoke again.

“Whoever you’re looking for, he’s got some major problems with someone from that family- my guess is Mycroft Holmes,” he said. Beth stopped.

“And why do you think that?” Beth asked, not turning to look at the man.

“Well, if it was me, if I wanted to get revenge on a man- or anyone for that matter- how better to do it than to go after their child?” Beth said and did nothing as she processed his words, leaving the room without a word or backwards glance at the man.

“Please, please, come and work for me,” Lady Smallwood all but begged as Beth entered the room. Beth grinned.

“That was very entertaining, I must say,” Anthea said with a smirk. “Do I want to know why you know so much about torture?”

“My method of interrogation is strictly mind play,” Beth said. “I observe them and read through their history before deciding how to approach them to get the best results. In Shaffer’s case, it was fear and intimidation,”

“And self-mutilation apparently,” Anthea said as she handed Beth an alcohol pad for her finger.

“Oh, I never usually go for this,” Beth said, gesturing to her finger as she wiped it off. “But we needed answers immediately and I knew that I really had to shake him to his core in order to get what we needed. A tiny pinprick on my fingertip is nothing compared to what Elara has had to endure,”

“Any word on when they’ll be able to take her home?” Bill asked Lady Smallwood.

“Hopefully in a couple of days,” she answered him as she led them out of the observation room and to her office. “John wants to make absolutely certain that her fever stays away and that the swelling in her brain doesn’t recur before they put her on a plane home,” Bill nodded.

“What of her hearing?” Beth asked.

“That, unfortunately, will likely be a long-term issue for her,” Anthea said. “Between the encephalitis and the dangerously high fever from the infection she had, it’s damaged her hearing. As of right now, she has been given a device to wear that enhances sound until she can return and be seen by the top audiologist that Mycroft wants her to see,” Bill let out a breath.

“Poor kid,” he said. Beth smiled up at him.

“She’s alive and getting better by the hour,” Beth told him. “That’s all that matters in the end, dear,”

Chapter Text

Elara fingered the device around her neck. She wasn’t fond of it, but it did help her hear a bit better. Her dad had promised her that it was only temporary until they got back to London to see the hearing specialist and get her some proper hearing aids. The device was on a neck lanyard that looped around her neck, a pair of headphones plugged in to it that Elara had placed in her ears.

“Elara?” Elara jumped at the sound of Mycroft’s voice. Mycroft winced and stepped forward to kneel down beside her. “I’m sorry, little one. I knocked on the door, but I don’t think you heard me,” Elara sighed, rubbing at the uncomfortable earpieces. Mycroft’s gentle hands reached out and removed the device from her ears and made sure he had her eye contact.

Elara, you do not have to wear or use this if you do not want to. He signed to her.

“I don’t want to be an inconvenience to anyone,” Elara told him, looking away. Mycroft reached out a hand, gently hooking his fingers under her chin and tilting her head back up to look at him.

You are never an inconvenience, Elara. Do not ever think or let anyone tell you that you are. He signed before reaching out and wiping a tear that Elara hadn’t noticed had escaped her eye from her face.

She reached out her good hand and Mycroft didn’t hesitate to pull her in to his arms, arranging himself to sit on the bed with his daughter held securely to his chest. They sat there in silence for several minutes, Elara crying softly as Mycroft held her and ran his hand through her hair. Mycroft looked up when Greg knocked gently on the door frame, concern and love written on his face.

“What’s wrong?” He asked as he entered the room and knelt down beside the bed, reaching out and wiping a stray tear from Elara’s face with his thumb. She reached out and grasped his hand with hers.

“She just needed some comfort,” Mycroft told him. Greg looked up at him and smiled warmly.

“Well, that I know we can do,” Greg said. Fifteen minutes later, John walked in.

“Everything alright?” He asked. “We’re all ready to go if you all are,” Mycroft tapped Elara gently as she had nodded off slightly.

Are you ready to go home, little one? Elara smiled up at him before nodding.

Mycroft scooped her off his lap, easily carrying her over to where John was waiting with the wheelchair. Once seated, Elara placed the headphones back in to her ears, not wanting to have to rely on her dad to translate for her as they made their way to the helipad.

“Sherlock is already waiting for us at the helipad,” John told them as they walked to the lift and stepped inside. “Are you ready to go home, darling?” Elara smiled and nodded up at him. Once they reached the helipad, Elara made to stand.

“Elara, I don’t think-” Elara interrupted Mycroft.

“I’m walking to this plane, dad,” she told him as she got to her feet unsteadily, teetered for a moment, and grasped Mycroft’s arm that he had presented to her.

“Then at least let us lead you, sunshine,” Greg said as he placed a gentle hand on the small of her back.

“At your pace, little one,” Mycroft said. Elara took a step forward and they- slowly- made their way towards the craft. Elara stopped a couple of metres from the door, gripping Mycroft’s arm tightly.

“Easy, Elara,” Mycroft murmured to her. She let out a shuddery breath.

“S-sorry,” she whispered out before swallowing thickly. “Last plane I was on was shot down,”

“This plane has an MI5 escort,” Mycroft told her. “We are completely safe, I promise you,”

“Do you want me to sedate you?” John asked her. “I can do that if you want me to,” Elara shook her head.

“No,” she said, looking to where her Uncle Sherlock was now poking his head out from inside the aircraft. “I’ll be alright,” John said nothing, but cocked an eyebrow at her.

“If I change my mind, I’ll let you know, I promise,” she told him with a tired smile.

Elara turned back to the plane, took a deep breath, and allowed her fathers to escort her on to the craft. Mycroft eased her down in to a seat before helping her with the seat belt. Greg took the seat on her right and Mycroft took the one on her left. John and Sherlock sat across from them.

“I’ve got pain medication as well,” John told her. “If it gets too much, please tell me and I’ll administer you some,” Elara nodded before leaning back in her seat tiredly. Even walking those few metres to the plane had been exhausting.

“You can rest, sunshine,” Greg murmured to her, placing a gentle hand on her knee. “We’ve got you. You’re safe,”

Elara let out a breath, letting her head fall on to her papa’s shoulder as Mycroft removed the hearing device from her before he took her hand in his. Sherlock stood and rummaged in the overhead bin, removing a blanket that he draped over Elara. Elara couldn’t offer much more than an exhausted smile before her eyes slipped closed.

“You didn’t actually sedate her, did you?” Greg asked once they were up in the air.

“No,” John said as he gently checked Elara’s pulse. “She’s done more moving about in the last hour than she has in nearly three weeks after being in a coma. It’s bound to be exhausting for her,”

“Are there any further leads from Lady Smallwood?” Sherlock asked his brother.

“Beth Murray has proved an invaluable asset to the interrogation of Michael Shaffer,” Mycroft said as John grinned madly.

“God, she was always fun to watch during an interrogation,” John recalled. “She could get in to a bloke’s head like no other,”

“She was able to get enough information from Shaffer to identify the other three people who were also tasked with targeting Elara,” Mycroft said as he removed his laptop from his messenger bag and pulled up the files for the men.

“The first man was Darren Cross,” Mycroft said. All three other mens' heads snapped up to Mycroft.

“Wait,” Greg said. “That tit of a man who Elara eviscerated after he went after John on a scene?” Mycroft nodded.

“The very same, Gregory,” he said.

“Who were the others?” John asked.

“Former doctor Evan Charles,” Mycroft said. “He was the doctor who I sent to test Gregory, Elara, and Maddie when Anthea came down with Covid. After he treated Elara badly, Gregory tossed him out of the house and I ensured he was fired and his medical license was revoked for the rest of his life,” John let out a breath.

“I’m sensing a pattern here,” he murmured, rubbing his eyes with his hand. “Dare I ask who the last one was?”

“David Combs,” Mycroft said. Sherlock growled slightly.

“Former tenant of Mrs. Hudson,” he supplied. “Elara was coming over to drop some cases by when she overheard him attempt to assault Mrs. Hudson before John and I returned and stepped in,”

“Then, of course, Michael Shaffer,” Mycroft said. “Involved in the abduction of John and Elara in 2018. I myself killed his brother in the altercations that day,”

“The real question is who hired these people?” Greg said.

“Beth was unable to obtain that information,” Mycroft told them. “She believes that Shaffer truly does not know who hired them. He told her that he was randomly released from prison before being asked if he ‘wanted revenge on a Holmes’,” Greg let out a breath.

“So, whoever is behind this must have some big grief with one or all of us,” John said. Greg scoffed.

“Hell, the list for Sherlock alone is over a kilometre long,” he said. John snickered. “How the Hell are we supposed to narrow this down?”

“Beth has a hunch,” Mycroft said. “She and Bill are looking in to a few things for us,” they hit a bit of turbulence then and Elara whimpered and flinched in her sleep. Mycroft squeezed her hand and Greg brushed his fingers over her cheek. Elara settled immediately.

“How have the nightmares been?” Sherlock asked. Greg let out a breath.

“She’d a bad one last night. Took Mycroft and I both over half an hour to settle her. I think her not being able to hear makes it worse,” Greg said. John nodded.

“Let me know if she wants to see a therapist,” John said. “Between myself, Bill, and Beth, we can get her set up with one we trust if she wants it,”

“Thank you, John,” Mycroft said. “Not just for this, but for everything. You helped us get her back safe,” John smiled grimly up at him.

“It’s not over yet, mate,” John said. “I’ve a feeling this is far from over,”

Elara woke several hours later to a gentle tapping on her cheek. She cracked her eyes open to see her dad smiling down on her.

We are about to land in London. He signed to her.

She nodded and Greg helped her sit up, wincing at the pull in her shoulder. They landed shortly after and Elara begrudgingly put the hearing device back on. John helped Elara stand before she took Mycroft’s arm once more as they exited the aircraft. Elara- with the aid of her fathers- slowly made her way down the staircase of the private jet to the ground. At the sound of a sob, Elara looked up to see Sally, her Aunt Molly, Aunt Anthea, Lady Smallwood, and Bill and Beth Murray. Sally and Molly were both crying as Elara slowly made her way to them before they engulfed her in a gentle group hug.

“God, do not ever do that again,” Sally said as she wiped her eyes. Elara smiled.

“I’ve been honorably discharged,” she told them. “Won’t be flying again any time soon, I’m afraid,” Anthea was next to hug her.

“Good to see you back on your feet, love,” Anthea said with a smile before Lady Smallwood reached out and cupped her face in her hands.

“You were brilliant out there, Elara,” she told her before hugging her. Elara looked over at Bill and Beth, who were keeping their distance so as not to disturb the family’s reunion. Elara slowly approached them and hugged them both gently.

“Thank you both for agreeing to come and get me,” she said before looking back towards everyone who had been a part of the rescue mission. “Thank you all. I’m not sure how long I’d have lasted if you’d all not come and found me,”

“Absolutely no way were we ever going to leave you to your own devices after you’d asked for help,” Anthea told her as Elara took Mycroft’s arm and they headed to the waiting vehicles.

“We would like to take her home and get her settled,” Mycroft told them. “She has been through quite the ordeal. If it is alright, we’d like to allow her a few days’ rest at home before we have visitors,” everyone nodded immediately.

“Of course,” Molly said. “Just let me or Sally know if she wants a shower at all and we’d be happy to come over,” Sally nodded in agreement.

“Thanks,” Elara said. “I’ll probably take you up on that tomorrow,” she turned to Greg.

“Can you please help me wash my hair tonight?” Elara begged. “I desperately need to wash the Russian wilderness out of it,” John snorted as Greg chuckled.

“’Course, sunshine,” Greg said, pulling his daughter to his side and kissing her head. “Be happy to once your home, settled, and got a decent meal in you,”

“Alicia, depending on how she feels, we will be by in a few days to get Elara’s side of the story and a debrief in,” Mycroft told the woman, who nodded. Mycroft turned to John and Sherlock. “Will you both be returning to the manor with us?”

“If you don’t mind, please,” John said. “I’d like to help get her settled and administer her medications before we head back to Baker Street,” Mycroft nodded.

“Of course, John,” he said as he opened the car door for Elara. “You both are welcome any time. We will call you immediately if there are any issues. Would you like to be present for the appointment with the hearing specialist?”

“Yes, please, if Elara doesn’t mind,” John said. Mycroft nodded.

“I’ll let you know when we set up the appointment,” he turned to everyone else. “Thank you all for coming to see Elara’s homecoming. She’ll reach out to everyone once she’s had a rest. Alicia, may I call you later?”

“Of course,” she said. “Don’t worry, Mycroft. We’ve got this handled for now,”

Chapter Text

Three days later, Elara sat at the breakfast table, clumsily feeding herself with her left hand as Greg braided her hair up in to a French Braid for her. Mycroft- who had the tiny Caesar held against his chest with one hand- looked over the table worriedly at Elara as she fiddled with her brand new hearing aids she had received the day prior. Greg- who had finished with her hair- came around to face Elara before signing the word help. Elara smiled, but shook her head as she switched them on and placed them in her ears one-handed.

“How do they feel, sunshine?” Greg asked with a smile as he handed her a mug of coffee.

“Can’t really tell I’m wearing them after a few minutes,” she said. “Though it was really jarring when Sally called me last night and they started ringing in my ears. I didn’t realize that it would Bluetooth my mobile calls straight to my hearing aids. It’s really neat, actually,”

“I’m glad they are working out for you, little one,” Mycroft said with a smile. “Are you sure you are up for today?” Elara fought back a sigh.

“Yes,” she said firmly. “I’m feeling much better and I can hear properly now. I’m ready to give my testimony. I want to know who has done this and stop them before they try and hurt anyone else or- God forbid- finish the job,” Greg winced as Mycroft set his mug of tea back down on the table with a loud thud, sloshing the liquid slightly.

“Elara Carissa Holmes-Lestrade,” Mycroft said severely. “Do not ever say such a thing again,” Elara looked shocked for half a second before she responded with a smirk.

“That would have been much more intimidating if you hadn’t been holding a kitten,” she said. Greg spat his coffee slightly as Mycroft sighed aggressively and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I mean, that was more adorable than anything, My,” Greg said. Elara snorted.

“Perfect,” he muttered as Elara and Greg snickered. “Yes, I’ve really missed this,” Elara grinned and stood, making her way over to her father before wrapping her good arm around him as she stood behind him.

“Oh, come on, dad,” she said as she planted a kiss on his cheek. “You know you love us,” Mycroft rolled his eyes.

“No. Absolutely not. I’ll not reward this behavior,” Mycroft said, attempting to wipe up the bit of tea he had spilled. Elara- still grinning with her arm around Mycroft’s chest- rested her head on his shoulder. Elara didn’t have to wait long before Mycroft leaned back in his seat and absentmindedly reached his hand up to grasp hers.

“And twenty-four seconds,” Greg said, checking his watch with a grin. “That’s a new record, I think,” Elara snickered as Mycroft rolled his eyes and let out another sigh.

“Go away, both of you,” Mycroft said without any bite. “We’ll be leaving here in twenty minutes and Elara still needs to get dressed,”

Nearly fifty minutes later, Elara heaved herself one-handed out of the vehicle that had taken her and her fathers to Mycroft’s office. Mycroft walked ahead of her, Greg coming up in the rear as they walked in to the building where Anthea was waiting for them. Anthea swept Elara in to a gentle hung.

“How are you feeling, love?” Anthea asked as she cupped Elara’s face, looking her up and down.

Elara had finally gotten a glimpse of herself in the mirror the day she had returned to London and she understood then why everyone was so concerned. There were dark circles under her eyes, she still had yellow-green-ish bruising around her right eye, the laceration above her right brow was finally beginning to heal up- but would likely scar- and she had lost weight during her two-week coma. Her ribs and collarbone- whilst still painful at times- were healing up nicely, and she removed the wrist brace on her sprained right wrist the day prior.

“I’m alright, Auntie ‘Thea,” she said. “The stiffness from not being able to move my shoulder is bothering me more than anything, really,” Anthea smiled.

“I’m glad you’re more mobile,” she said to Elara before turning to Mycroft and Greg. “Come along through to Lady Smallwood’s office,” she said before leading them to Lady Smallwood’s office.

“The Holmes-Lestrade family, Lady Smallwood,” Anthea announced. Lady Smallwood glanced up and smiled as she set eyes on Elara.

“Elara, darling, it’s wonderful to see you up and about again,” she said, kissing either side of Elara’s face. “Are you certain you’re up for this?” Elara squared her shoulders in a very John-like way.

“I’m ready for anything that comes my way,” Elara stated. “I’m a Holmes and a Lestrade. We do not run from our problems, Lady Smallwood. We face them head-on,”

“Well said, little one,” Mycroft said with a proud smile.

“Well, then,” Lady Smallwood said. “If you’ll take a seat, Elara, we can get this started. Can I get you anything before we begin? Coffee or tea?”

“A coffee would be wonderful, thank you,” Elara said. Greg quickly went to make her the drink just how she liked it.

Elara spent the next hour detailing her version of events, starting with reporting back to base and ending with collapsing in Greg’s arms in Russia before waking up in hospital nearly three weeks later. Elara voiced her ordeal with dignity and grace, only tearing up once when she recalled how frightened she had initially been, admitting that she had begged her father to save her whilst crying in pain on the forest floor. Mycroft had held her to his chest for several minutes, trying in vain to keep his own tears at bay as he vowed to find and end the people responsible for making his little girl so scared.

“I was briefly aware before I was actually awake in hospital,” Elara said, thinking back. “I remember a hand around mine. I used every bit of energy I had to squeeze it back. Someone spoke, but obviously I was unable to hear properly who it was,”

“It was me,” Greg murmured quietly. “Your dad had stepped out for a moment and you stirred and gripped my hand. I shouted for Mycroft and John before telling you that we were here and you were safe and that we all loved you so much,” Elara smiled warmly.

“I love you too, papa,” Elara told him before looking to Mycroft. “You too, dad,” both her fathers pulled her in to a hug while Lady Smallwood tried to inconspicuously dab at her eyes with her handkerchief.

“Well,” Lady Smallwood said once everyone had composed themselves and returned to their seats. “I think that about does it for you, dear. Do you have any questions for us?” Elara looked up at her.

“I want to see him,” Elara said firmly. “I want to speak to Michael Shaffer,”

Chapter Text

Mycroft stared at his daughter like she had grown another head.

“Gregory, please give John a call,” Mycroft said, not taking his eyes off Elara. “I do believe her head is still a bit muddled if she thinks that I’ll let her anywhere near the man that has threatened her life twice now,”

“My-”

“No, Gregory,” Mycroft said coldly. “I’ll stand firm on this,”

“And so am I,” Elara said, standing. “Dad, I love you. You know I do. I know that you are trying to protect me, but I can do this, dad. I’m not a little girl anymore. Please. I need to do this. Let me do this,” Mycroft let out a shuddery sigh, collapsing back in to his chair, head in his hands.

“It’s not that I don’t think you can, Elara,” Mycroft said through his hands. “I just-” Mycroft found himself unable to articulate his thoughts.

“We nearly lost you, sunshine,” Greg said quietly. “We’re scared for you, love. That man down in interrogation has been responsible for your near-demise twice now. We don’t want to give him a third chance,”

“Then one of you can join me,” Elara said. “You know, stand in the back and look intimidating,” Greg tilted his head to the side.

“Not a bad thought. What say you, My?” Mycroft let out a breath and looked up.

“My brave girl,” he said, reaching a hand out to her. “Are you positive?” Elara nodded firmly.

“I am, yes,” she said before a small smirk came over her face. “And I’d like you to be the one to join me,” Mycroft cocked an eyebrow.

“Oh? And why is that?” Mycroft asked. Her smirk grew.

“He may sing a bit longer if fueled by the rage of seeing the man who killed his brother,”

Ten minutes later saw Mycroft leading Elara down to where the interrogation rooms were located. Elara had never been this deep down in to her father’s office building before. She wanted to take a look around, but knew that they had a schedule to stick to, so she kept pace with her father, Anthea, Lady Smallwood, and Greg following close behind them. They stopped outside of a heavy metal door. Mycroft turned to Elara.

“First sign of aggression or if he tries anything, I am pulling you from this room, willingly or not. Do you understand me, Elara?” Mycroft said seriously.

“I understand, dad,” she replied softly. “Thank you,” Mycroft let out a breath.

“Alright. Here we go,” he said before scanning his security badge and thumbprint before opening the door for her. Elara stepped inside the room where Shaffer- cuffed to the table- had his head down on the metal table.

“I’ve told you lot everything I know,” he said wearily. “There’s nothing more I can-” he stopped mid-sentence as he lifted his head and saw Elara standing there.

“Well, as I live and breathe,” he said with a small smirk. “You look like shite,”

“And you look and smell like the ass-end of a horse, but I’ll try to keep my breakfast down,” Elara said without missing a beat as she sat down across from him. Shaffer glanced up at Mycroft.

“See you brought daddy in here to protect you,” he sneered. Elara raised an eyebrow.

“Who’s to say he’s not here to protect you from me?” She questioned. Shaffer scoffed.

“Didn’t see a lot of action from you in Russia,” he spat out. “Just had to follow the scent of fear,”

“Then you must’ve been smelling your own asses,” Elara fired back. “Trust me, I was tailing you lot more than you were trying to find me. I overheard a lot of your conversations during our little camping excursion. You lot really need to learn to cover your tracks,” Shaffer sneered at her. Elara rolled her eyes.

“Oh, please. I’m not a little girl anymore, Shaffer,” she said to him. “And I guarantee you that you’ll be on the ground before you can even think about trying to yank my arm out of socket again,”

“So, you do remember me, then,” Shaffer said.

“Hard to forget a face that not even your mother could love,” Elara said. “She dumped you and your brother at an orphanage like you were yesterday’s rubbish and never looked back, didn’t she?”

“If you’re smart, you’ll keep your mouth shut,” he spat out.

“And if you have even the tiniest pebble of brain cells left in your head, then you’ll listen to me and listen well,” Elara said, standing up and moving behind Shaffer.

“You are nothing. You never have been. You never will be. The only good thing you will leave on this Earth when you die is the excrement you’ll expel that will be used as compost,” she sneered in his ear.

“You have threatened my daughter for the last time, Mr. Shaffer,” Mycroft said from in front of the door, arms folded tightly across his chest as he leveled a dangerous glare at the man in front of him. Shaffer scoffed.

“Do quit the dramatics,” he said. “If you’re going to kill me, then do it,” Mycroft smirked.

“Oh, where you’re going, you’ll wish I’d have killed you, Mr. Shaffer,” Mycroft said. “Though, it would surprise me if you last more than a month,”

“I think a month’s pretty generous,” Elara said. “Once we leak his rap sheet to the populous, I think it’ll drop to twelve days,” Mycroft tilted his head thoughtfully.

“Hmm, quite right, I think,” he said. Shaffer snarled and made a move towards Elara, who easily stepped out of the way. He winced as the cuffs dug in to his wrists.

“Oh, I hope he kills you real slow, bitch, just like you deserve,” Shaffer spat as Mycroft took a protective step in front of his daughter. “And I hope he makes your whole poof family watch,”

“Oh, misogyny and homophobia all in one go,” Elara said brightly. “How utterly charming. You’ll make a cellmate very happy soon enough,”

Shaffer screamed more profanities and slurs as he tried to lunge at them again, but was restrained once more by the cuffs. Mycroft led Elara to the door, scanning his badge and his thumb before shutting the door behind them. He immediately swept Elara in to his arms, holding her as tightly as he dared for several moments.

“Are you alright, Elara?” He murmured in to her hair.

“I’m perfectly fine, dad,” she responded, pulling away to look her father in the eyes. “He doesn’t frighten me, nor do his words,”

“And what of the man behind this, then?” Greg asked, appearing behind them. Elara grinned.

“Caught that, did you?” She asked brightly as he pulled her in for his own hug. Greg rolled his eyes.

“Well, yeah,” Greg said. “I am a D.C.I. for a reason. I don’t just stand there and look pretty while Sherlock and John do all the work,” Mycroft chuckled softly.

“Well, you always stand pretty, love,” Mycroft said before pulling Greg in for a long snog.

“Oh. Okay. No. Gross,” Elara said, turning on her heels and walking back towards the lift and calling over her shoulder. “Get a room, would you?” Greg chuckled at her antics, his arms still wrapped around Mycroft.

“Who’s doing this, My?” Greg asked quietly after a few moments.

“I’m not sure, Gregory,” Mycroft answered with a sigh. “But I fully intend on finding out before this goes any further,”

“Well, not much more I can do, really,” Greg said. “But, if you need or want to go in to the office to help Lady Smallwood with this, I’ll stay with Elara. Hell, I may even have John over later as well if Sherlock’s gonna be assisting. I’d feel better if we had more than one person watching over Elara right now,”

“You do know that she’s going to be stubborn about the protective detail?” Mycroft asked, walking to the lift hand-in-hand with Greg. Greg huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah, well, she can complain all she likes, but it’s still happening,” Greg said as they stepped in to the lift. “Plus, I know how to make it seem like it isn’t a protective detail,” Mycroft glanced over at him, curious. Gerg grinned.

“Been a while since we’ve had a Harry Potter marathon,” Mycroft chuckled.

“How utterly devious of you, Gregory,” Mycroft said. “But she’ll still know better,” Greg grinned as he whipped out his mobile and gave it a small wave before opening it and sending off a text.

“That may be so, but I’ve got a man on the inside,”

Chapter Text

Several hours later, John- his arms laden with Tesco bags- hurried through the pouring rain up to the door of the Holmes-Lestrade home, ringing the doorbell and waiting for Greg to answer. After disarming the security system, Greg opened the door with a smile.

“Hey, mate. Come on in,” Greg said, taking some of the bags from John, who stepped inside the home. “She’s in the kitchen. Her shoulder is really bothering her tonight,”

Greg quickly armed the security system again before leading John through to the kitchen, where Elara was sat at the kitchen table with a heating pad gently draped over her bad shoulder. John furrowed his eyebrows and immediately went to kneel in front of her.

“Hey, darling. You alright?” John asked in concern. Elara smiled tiredly.

“Yeah. It’s killing me keeping my arm in this position for so long. It’s really stiff and it hurts,” she said, wincing as she stretched out her neck slightly. “I don’t think the storms today are helping it any,”

“Have you taken anything for it?” John asked, pulling aside her button-up shirt to look at the surgical site.

“No, not yet. I’ll need to eat something first,” she said, gently batting John’s hands away with a small smile. “It’s not infected, I’ve already had a look. No fever, I’ve still got my wits about me, and I’ve got no head or neck pain,” John let out a breath.

“Alright, then, Dr. Holmes-Lestrade,” John said with a small grin. “What would you like to do?”

“I’ve measured out the dose of meds I want. It’s not heavy. Just to take the edge off. Once we’ve eaten, I’ll ask you to administer it for me, then we’ll retire to the theatre room where I’ll likely make it through the first movie before falling asleep right around the first petrification scene in Chamber of Secrets,” Elara said. John cocked an eyebrow up and looked at Greg.

“Did you tell her-?” John asked.

“Oh, please,” Elara said, rolling her eyes. “It was cute of you both to try and disguise the protection detail as a movie marathon night, but you know who I am and who you are both married to. You cannot try to fool me, it doesn’t work,” Greg snorted as John chuckled.

“Yes, of course,” Greg snarked good-naturedly as he removed a pan of chicken enchiladas- Elara’s favorite- out of the oven. “How silly of us, John,” John grinned and opened his mouth to reply when the doorbell went off. John’s head snapped to Greg.

“You expecting anyone else tonight?” John asked, subconsciously stepping closer to Elara. Greg’s eyes hardened.

“No. Just you tonight. Anyone else has security codes or would have called first,” Greg said, pulling out his mobile and looking at the security camera footage. He furrowed his eyebrows. “I dunno who this is,” Greg said, holding his mobile to John and Elara.

“I do,” Elara said, moving to stand. “It’s my C.O., Air Marshal Thomas. My old mobile was shattered when I ejected. I haven’t given my new number out to anyone not family yet. He’s likely here to see if I’m alright,”

“Are you up to seeing him?” Greg asked hesitantly. Elara let out a small nod.

“Yeah,” she said with a small smile. “He’s not one for long conversation. He’ll likely be a quick in and out check and then he’ll be off,” Greg nodded.

“Alright. If you’re sure, I’ll let him in,” Greg said as he left to go and answer the door.

John made himself busy by putting the kettle on as Greg came back in to the kitchen with Marshal Thomas following closely behind. Unable to properly salute the man with her arm, Elara stood at attention the best she could.

“Air Marshal Thomas, sir,” she said. John, out of habit, saluted the man as well.

“At ease, soldiers,” Marshal Thomas said with a small smile. “Commodore, wonderful to see you back on your feet,” Elara smiled back at him.

“Thank you, sir. It’ll take a lot more than some rogues with bad aim to take me down,” she said. Marshal Thomas turned to Greg and John.

“Apologies for dropping in. I’d heard she’d finally returned home and I’ve been unable to reach her. I just needed to see for myself that she was alright,” he said, holding his hand out.

“Air Marshal Jeffery Thomas,” Greg grasped his hand.

“Greg Holmes-Lestrade. Elara’s told us about you,” Greg said with a polite smile. Marshal Thomas chuckled as John took his hand next.

“Ah, Captain John Watson,” Marshal Thomas said fondly. “An honor to finally meet you,” John smiled.

“Likewise, sir,” he said. Marshal Thomas turned to Elara.

“Commodore, you’ve served your country well. I’m sorry to hear of your discharge,” he told her. Elara let out a breath, but smiled.

“It was an honor to serve when I could. Though, after everything, I think I’ve had my fill of action for a little while at least. Though, I’m sure once I’m fully cleared I’ll be chasing my uncles around London again,” she said and John chuckled.

“Sherlock’s already been asking when you can come on a case again,” he said with a smirk. A loud clap of thunder and flash of lightning had all three soldiers flinching and jumping to attention.

“Easy, mates,” Greg said in a low tone. “Just a bit of thunder. We’re all good here,” The three soldiers relaxed slightly, though tension was still apparent on their faces, especially Marshal Thomas’. John took note of it before gesturing to the table.

“Well, Marshal, you can have a seat if you’d like. I’ve just put the kettle to boil. Surely you can at least stay for a cuppa? Try and wait out this storm?” John asked.

“Please, I don’t want to intrude-”

“Nonsense,” Greg said, pulling out a chair for the man. “Have a seat. Dinner’s just come out of the oven if you’d like to join us for that as well,” Marshal Thomas raised an eyebrow.

“You’re positive I’m not intruding?” He asked hesitantly, eyes darting over towards Elara.

“Nah,” Greg said as he pulled plates from the cabinet. “I’ve made plenty and I’m not about to toss you out in the pouring rain. Grab a pew, sir,” Marshal Thomas sighed in defeat.

“Well, if you’re sure,” he said as he took a seat. “Does smell bloody great, though,” Greg grinned.

“Chicken enchiladas,” Greg said as he dished them up for everyone. “A specialty of mine and Elara’s favorite since she was a little girl,” Elara huffed out an annoyed sigh.

“Papa,” she groaned under her breath, cheeks pinking ever so slightly as she sank back in to her chair. John chuckled.

“Ease up there, darling,” he said as he served tea. “This is his right as a father,” Marshal Thomas laughed at the antics.

“You’ve got a good dad, Commodore. Two of them, in fact,” he said as he sipped his tea.

“And a couple of crazy uncles,” Greg supplied as he placed plates down on to the table. John giggled as he took a seat.

“Oi, remember who you married, mate,” John said with a grin towards Greg, who socked an eyebrow good-naturedly.

“Yeah? Does my husband leave severed heads in the fridge?” Greg shot back with a grin. Elara snorted while Marshal Thomas looked somewhat horrified.

“Shaddup,” John said with a smirk.

“Settle down, ladies,” Elara said as she rolled her eyes. “We have company,”

Just as they all settled down to eat, there was another loud clap of thunder and the electricity to the house cut out, submerging them all in to darkness.

Chapter Text

Mycroft rubbed circles on his aching temples, wishing that Greg was here to do it for him- the man had magic fingers when it came to easing Mycroft’s migraines. A hand on his shoulder startled him. He glanced up to see Anthea, holding out his migraine medication to him with a steaming mug of tea. He shot her a grateful smile before accepting and taking the medication.

“Thank you, dear,” he said. Anthea smiled at him.

“It’s no trouble, sir,” she said with a small pat on his shoulder before walking back towards the light switch and dimming them slightly. Mycroft sighed in relief.

“You know, you don’t have to wait until it gets this bad,” Anthea said softly.

“I honestly didn’t realize until it was too late,” Mycroft admitted.

“Have we heard back yet from Beth and Bill?” Sherlock- who had been pouring over reports in a corner- quietly asked.

“Not yet, no,” Anthea said. “Beth said she had a hunch and was following it, but didn’t say anything more in case she was wrong,” Mycroft’s mobile chimed suddenly and he pulled up the notification, frowning.

“What is it?” Sherlock asked.

“Someone is at my front door,” Mycroft murmured, pulling up the security footage.

“Who?” Anthea asked. Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

“I do believe it is Elara’s now former C.O.,” he said, shooting off a text to Greg to ensure everything was alright.

Is that Marshal Thomas at our door? - MH-L

Yeah. He’s been unable to get a hold of Elara since her old mobile was broken. He heard she was back home and wanted to ensure she was alright. I’ve invited him for dinner to try and wait out this storm. - GH-L

“It was Marshal Thomas,” Mycroft affirmed for everyone. “He heard Elara was back home and wanted to check up on her personally,” Sherlock’s head snapped up at Mycroft’s words.

“How did he-” A knock at the door interrupted him before Anthea opened the door to reveal Bill, Beth, and Lady Smallwood.

“Mycroft,” Beth said as she quickly walked up to him. He immediately stood and met her halfway.

“What have you found, dear?” He asked.

“I followed a gut feeling,” she began. “I still have friends and a bit of pull in the RAF. I did some digging, and what I found was not good,” Mycroft took a breath.

“What did you find?” He asked.

“That’s just it, sir,” she said. “I didn’t find anything,”

“I don’t follow,” Mycroft said, genuinely confused for the first time in a long time.

“There is no official mission reports or orders from up high regarding Elara’s flight from London to Kazakhstan,” Beth said. “I made some calls to the hospital Elara was supposed to be flying out to and they were completely confused. They hadn’t reached out for assistance, nor had anyone from the Medical Corps reached out to them,”

“But- but that means-” Anthea said.

“She was set up,” Bill growled. “And she was set up by one of our own,”

“I’d like to voice my previously interrupted question,” Sherlock said. “How did Marshal Thomas know she was home?”

“Well, I expect he-” Lady Smallwood started to say, but stopped.

“We told no one,” Sherlock said, looking to Mycroft. “Unless there is a leak in your MI5 team or one of us told someone, then there is no reason that he would know she was back-”

“Unless he knew what to look out for,” Beth said, her head snapping to Mycroft. “There has to be a connection to you somewhere. What is the connection?”

Mycroft’s eyes slammed shut. He blocked out everyone and everything. He delved deep in to his own Mind Palace. Thomas. Thomas. Jeffery Thomas. Air Marshal with the RAF for nearly fifteen years now. Unmarried. Divorced shortly after the death of- Mycroft’s eyes snapped open as he made his way back to the present with a gasp. Sherlock was gripping his arms, holding him steady. Mycroft took a deep shuddery breath.

“Jeffery Thomas,” he said, looking at Lady Smallwood. “Think back, Alicia. 1997. Operation Black Knight,” Lady Smallwood, thought hard for several seconds before comprehension dawned on her face.

“Oh,” she gasped out quietly, slowly lifting her face to look at Mycroft. “Vanessa,”

“Ooookay,” Beth said awkwardly. “Someone is going to have to share with the rest of the class, here,” Mycroft sighed and pressed his palms to his eyelids.

“Vanessa Thomas was the daughter of Jeffery and Amelia Thomas,” Mycroft said softly. “She was a brand-new MI5 graduate, assigned to me. Operation Black Knight was the only operation I headed where we lost an agent,”

“And Vanessa Thomas was that agent,” Beth finished for him. He nodded once.

“We were infiltrating a foreign embassy,” Mycroft said, his eyes glazing over as he became lost in the memory.

Twenty-five-year-old Mycroft Holmes scratched irritably at the beard he had needed to grow for this operation. Vanessa Thomas snickered from beside him.

“Oh, shut up, River,” he snarked. Vanessa snickered harder.

“You really ought to give it a chance, Antarctica,” she said with a grin. “Makes you look roguishly dashing,” Mycroft rolled his eyes.

“I’m not paying you for fashion advice, River,” he said. “Now, focus,”

Vanessa rolled her eyes, but drew her weapon and stalked behind Mycroft as they advanced within the embassy to retrieve plans for a supposed weapon of mass destruction. As they entered the middle of the room, the lights snapped on and they whirled around to face the diplomat they had been assigned to tail before gaining the plans.

“Mycroft Holmes,” the man rumbled out. “Knew you’d be the one they sent after me,” Mycroft stared the man down.

“And just how do you know who I am?” He demanded. The man grinned, revealing rotten teeth.

“You think you were sent to kill me,” he said, his grin growing. “But, in reality, this was all set up so that I could kill you,”

“ Down !” Mycroft yelled, grabbing Vanessa’s arm and yanking her behind a marble pillar as the man raised a gun and fired at them. Vanessa and Mycroft wasted no time in returning fire, advancing on their target as they did. Vanessa finally managed a hit and their target went down.

“Well done, River,” Mycroft said. Vanessa grinned.

“Well, I-” a shot rang out and Vanessa went down with a shout. Mycroft quickly turned and shot a bodyguard that had shown up. He quickly knelt down next to Vanessa.

“River?” He said, turning her over on to her back. Vanessa groaned.

“Fuck, that hurts,” she said as she cracked her eyes open. Mycroft let out a breath. “They weren’t kidding when they said getting hit in the vest hurts,”

“Are you certain you aren’t hurt anywhere?” He said as he visually inspected her.

“I’m fine, Antarctica,” she said as she struggled to sit up. Mycroft helped her to sit up, propping her up against a pillar. “You think there are actually any plans?”

“No,” he said. “I don’t think so. We may as well head back and report in,” he said as he leaned over to retrieve his and her weapons.

“Oh, good. I could use a nice-”

A single shot rang out. Mycroft had- unintentionally- leaned over at precisely the right second to save his life. But, when doing so, the bullet that was meant for his head went directly in to Vanessa’s instead. Mycroft yelped, hurriedly turning and returning fire to the man who was their original target, downing the man completely in two shots. Mycroft immediately turned back to Vanessa. He immediately sicked up when he saw the vacant stare in her eyes, a thin line of blood escaping the wound from her forehead.

“His daughter was killed by the bullet that was meant for me,” Mycroft all but whispered.

“And now he wants revenge,” Beth said. Mycroft swallowed thickly.

“It appears so,” he said.

“Well, let’s find the bastard and take him down,” Bill said.

“We don’t need to find him,” Sherlock said as he donned his Belstaff and scarf. “We know exactly where he is,”

“Well, where is he?” Beth asked. Mycroft went to his desk, pulling out his handgun.

“He is presently in my home,” Mycroft said in a cold voice as he loaded the weapon like a well-oiled machine. “Eating dinner with my husband, daughter, and brother-in-law,”

Chapter Text

“Shit,” Greg swore under his breath as he stood and turned on the light of his mobile.

“Exterior lights aren’t out,” John said as he peered out the window. “Can’t be a total blackout,”

“Must’ve tripped a breaker or something,” Greg said. “I’ll pop downstairs and see if I can reset it,”

“Be careful,” John said. “I don’t need you tripping down the stairs,”

“Yeah, yeah,” Greg said as he opened the basement door and disappeared down the steps. John turned to face Elara and made eye contact with her. His face told her that he was also as uneasy as she felt. She nodded inconspicuously at him.

“Dad’s got some candles in his office,” Elara said as she stood from the table. “I’ll go and get them just in case. I’ll be right back,”

Elara casually walked from the kitchen, speeding up once she was out of earshot of the kitchen. Since her return, Elara had still taken to carrying around the emergency mobile that had been given to her by her father and Auntie ‘Thea. She wasn’t sure why, exactly. She just knew that her anxiety spiked if she didn’t have it with her. She pulled out the emergency mobile and entered in the code 20201217, ensuring the device was silenced completely before tucking the device securely back in to her sling. She then pulled out her new mobile and texted her father.

SOS - EH-L

Power is out. Something is not right. Please come home at once. - EH-L

The unmistakable sound of a gun cocking caused Elara to freeze, her blood running cold.

“Drop the mobile, Commodore,” Elara did not move.

“Marshal Thomas?” Elara said uneasily. “Sir, what are you doing?”

“I said drop the mobile,” he said harshly. “Do not make me put a bullet in you,” Elara let the device slip from her fingers to the floor.

“Kick it over to me,” Marshal Thomas said, his gun still trained on Elara. Elara gave the mobile a nudge with her foot, sliding the device across the hardwood floor to be stopped by Marshal Thomas’ boot. He knelt down and picked it up.

“I see you’ve already sounded the alarm,” he murmured. “Pity. I’d have liked this to last a bit longer,”

“Where is my uncle?” Elara demanded.

“He decided to join the good D.I. downstairs,” he said as he powered off the mobile and tossed it aside. “I thought he could use a repair assistant,”

“Why are you doing this?” Elara said. “What have I done to-”

“Oh, no, dear,” he cut her off. “It’s nothing you have done, I assure you. No, your father is the one to blame for all of this,” Elara glared the man down.

“So you take it out on his daughter?” She asked.

“Mycroft Holmes was responsible for the death of my daughter,” he said in a soft, simple, even tone that chilled Elara to the bone. “I, unfortunately, must return the favor now. This is nothing against you, Commodore. You’re a wonderful person. Bloody brilliant doctor and soldier I must also say. You even resemble my daughter, funnily enough. But, duty outweighs everything,”

“Duty?” Elara asked. “What duty is there in this?”

“I must avenge my daughter,” he said simply as though he were discussing the weather. “What kind of a father would I be if I died knowing I failed as a father,”

“You’re sick,” Elara said softly.

“Mm, yes. Maybe,” he said.

“No,” Elara said as she shook her head ever so slightly. “You’re actually sick. Dying, in fact,”

“What could you possibly know about-”

“I don’t just see,” Elara said, inching closer to the man. “I observe,”

“And what exactly have you observed?” He asked in the same tone.

“I could say that it has been the difference in your diet,” Elara said. “Going from eating full-on meals with seconds to barely eating steamed vegetables and rice for every meal I saw. I was a bit taken aback when I saw you on the security footage from our front door; you’ve lost a startling amount of weight from last I saw you. You went from flying out all over the place to a strict desk duty. One could argue it could be a result of your age, but that tiny blue dot on your throat confirms my deductions. Weight loss, macrobiotic diet, sudden desk duty, obvious changes in your behavior and mental state, and a tattoo that serves as a guide for radiation treatment: You are dying,”

“Your ability to see everything and come to the correct conclusions nearly every time will never cease to amaze me,” he said with a small smile. “You’re exactly right, of course. Cancer. It started in my lungs. I was doing well for a while. Then, I stopped responding to treatment. It metastasized to my liver, stomach, and spine. It’s terminal now. I’ve likely only got a couple of months left,”

“You’ve known me for over ten years now,” Elara said quietly. “You didn’t act until after you started treatment. You’re medications are altering your mind, sir,”

“Oh, no, I assure you, I’ve not lost any of my mental functions,” he said. “If anything, it’s given me clarity. The pain of losing my daughter is still as fresh and raw as it was the day I found out that I lost her. I’ve dreamed of revenge on Holmes for decades now, the pain fueled me. When you appeared on my team, I won’t lie to you, I did consider it. I could have easily ended your life and finally, finally put a stop to the pain. But, like a coward, I backed out. I knew it would be too much of a coincidence if you were to die so soon after coming in to my employ. So, I bided my time. I let you be. I allowed you to climb your way through the ranks, even swallowing my ire and calling your father when you were injured in that bombing in Israel a couple of years back. It was almost as though he had forgotten who I was and what he took from me and it strengthened my resolve. I started plotting. I never thought I would actually go through with it, but, once I knew I was dying, well, what else would I really have to lose?”

“What about your daughter?” Elara asked. “Would she really want this?” Marshal Thomas smiled humorlessly.

“Vanessa is dead, Commodore,” he said. “She can’t give her opinion,”

“Do you really believe that, sir?” Elara asked. “Do you really think that, if she were here, she would want you to-” a shot went off and Elara hit the ground, scrambling to hide behind her father’s desk.

“ENOUGH!” Marshal Thomas bellowed. “I’m finally here to finish what Mycroft Holmes began over forty years ago. Now,” he fired another shot at the desk.

“Come out-” another shot. “Come out-” another shot. “Wherever you are,” another shot.

Elara bit back a scream as a bullet came through the desk and dug a deep graze in to her right bicep. Elara looked up and saw the handgun she knew was always present on the underside of her father’s desk. She slowly reached up and grasped it in her left hand, ensuring it was loaded and the safety was off. Another shot rang out, narrowly missing her face by inches. She allowed herself to fall forward, hiding the gun beneath her body as the blood coming from her arm pooled slightly around her. She couldn’t hear him come closer, but she knew he was. She held her breath and remained still. She finally heard him kneel down beside her. He reached out and gently brushed her hair off her face.

“I am sorry, Elara,” he murmured as he stroked her face with a gentle finger. “I truly am, but, your death at my hands will finally end my pain. With your death, I'll set myself free,”

He lifted his gun and aimed it directly at Elara’s head. Elara snapped her eyes open and kicked the weapon from his hand before raising her own weapon and firing four shots at Marshal Thomas’ chest. The man had a startled look on his face, falling seemingly in slow-motion against the wall behind the desk as he took short, gasping breaths. Elara sat up slowly, looking over at him.

“And I’m sorry,” Elara said. “I’m sorry you lost your daughter. I’m sure she loved you as much as you love her, but this is not the way to channel your grief,”

“You- know- nothing- of- grief,” he said in between wheezes.

“I know more than you think,” she said quietly. “I still grieve the first eight-and-a-half years of my life. Born to parents who never wanted a child. Beaten, starved, locked away, treated like the scum of the Earth just for existing. Mycroft Holmes saved my life. He took me in. Because of him, I know the love of a father. That look in your eyes you got when you spoke of Vanessa, I see the same look in my father’s eyes when he looks at me, when he speaks of me,”

Elara crawled to kneel directly in front of him. She watched tears flow from his eyes. He coughed, spattering his lips with blood. Elara reached out and grasped his hand tightly in hers. He looked at her with confusion in his eyes as he gasped for breath.

“I understand why you did what you did. Your grief blinded you, twisting your mind until it consumed you,” Elara said. “There is nothing I can do to stop your death now. But, what I can do, is sit here with you and hold your hand through it. I want you to know that, after everything, compassion and love will always win in the end. I forgive you, Jeffrey Thomas. You can die knowing that I hold nothing against you. No grudges, no ill-will, no hatred. You can pass on from this plane of existence knowing that, and I hope it gives you some semblance of peace. I just hope that, wherever you go after this, you can finally see your little girl again,” Marshal Thomas let out a wet, shuddery breath, his eyes fixing on a point just behind Elara’s shoulder.

“V-Va-ness-a,” he breathed out before the light left his eyes and he was still. Elara released his now limp hand, reaching out her own shaking hand and checked his pulse, finding none. Elara sniffed lightly, reaching out and closing his eyes. Elara closed her eyes and hung her head.

“How long have you been standing there?” She asked after several seconds of silence.

“Long enough to know that you are far better a person than I,” Mycroft answered from the doorway before he slowly entered the room. Elara sniffed again and wiped her eyes as Mycroft knelt down next to her and pulled her gently in to his arms.

“Are papa and Uncle John alright?” She asked against his chest.

“John will need to be checked out in hospital,” Mycroft told her as he reached in to his pocket and removed his handkerchief, wrapping it around her arm where the stray bullet had grazed her. “Thomas knocked him out before tossing him down the basement steps and locking them both in. Your papa took very good care of him,”

“He was dying,” Elara murmured as she leaned against her father’s chest. “He knew he was dying. He wanted his last mission to be avenging his daughter’s death,” Mycroft nodded.

“I know,” he said. “With Bill and Beth’s help, we figured everything out just before you sent off your emergency beacon,”

“He just wanted the hurt to stop,” she said, tears flowing down her face. “He got lost in his grief. He spiraled too deep into its depths and he couldn’t come back,”

“I am so sorry, Elara,” Mycroft whispered out, tears blurring his own eyes. “I never dreamt something like this would ever come to pass,”

“It is not your fault, dad,” she said, lifting her head to look at him.

“I headed the mission that got his daughter killed,” Mycroft said, shutting his eyes against the flashes of memories. “The bullet that hit her was meant for me,”

“You didn’t pull that trigger,” Elara said, beginning to shiver. Mycroft shifted, pulling his suit jacket off his person and draping it over Elara’s shoulders.

“You’re in shock. Let’s go and get you looked at, little one,” Mycroft murmured, scooping Elara in to his arms.

Chapter Text

Greg sat with his arms crossed tightly across his chest as Molly Hooper sewed up the bullet graze on his daughter’s arm. She was hooked up to fluids and antibiotics. Shortly after Mycroft had carried her to the waiting ambulance, she removed her hearing aids and handed them off to Greg for safekeeping, as Mycroft had hurried off to help Lady Smallwood figure out how to proceed. Elara had said nothing the whole ride to hospital. She had simply just reached out her good hand to Greg, who took her hand in both of his and held on tightly, allowing himself to be her anchor. He knew nothing he could say could ease what she was feeling right now. Molly finished taping bandages in to place, patting Elara’s cheek and placing a loving kiss to her head before turning to Greg.

“I’ll go look in on John and Sherlock,” she told him. “See if you can get her to talk,”

“Thanks, Molly,” he said.

She gave him a sad smile and squeezed his shoulder before leaving the room. Greg heaved himself out of the chair and walked to sit beside Elara. She glanced up at him. Greg smiled warmly at her and reached out to wipe a stray tear from her face. She closed her eyes and leaned in to the touch. Greg ran his thumb back and forth along her cheek for a moment before tapping her face with his finger. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

Can we talk? Greg signed clumsily. Elara nodded. Greg smiled at her.

Good. How are you like? Elara stared at him.

“I- What?” Elara said. Greg furrowed his eyebrows.

How- are- you- like? Greg repeated slower. Elara bit her lip, trying not to laugh as she motioned to her ears and held out a hand for her hearing aids.

“Do you mean ‘how are you feeling’?” Elara asked once she had placed her hearing aids in her ears. Greg’s eyes widened in horror.

“Oh, God, yes,” he said. “What did I say?” Elara snickered.

“Nothing bad. You just kept asking me ‘How are you like?’” Elara said with a grin. Greg groaned and ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, at least you didn’t accidentally call dad a bitch again,” Elara said with a smirk. Greg groaned again.

“God, you are never gonna let me live that one down, are you?” Greg groaned out. Elara snickered.

“Absolutely not,” she said seriously. “That was still one of the best nights of my life,”

“You were twelve and Sherlock should have never taught you that sign,” Greg said. Elara snickered.

“Yeah, well, he did, and I think it was because he foresaw your many blunders and knew I would get a good laugh out of them,” she said. Greg sighed aggressively.

“I love you, Elara. You know I do,” Greg began. “But you are awful,” Elara smiled.

“Thank you, papa,” she said brightly.

“Not a compliment, that,” Greg said.

“Yes it was,” Elara said. Greg rolled his eyes. There was a knock at the door and Bill and Beth stood there.

“Hey,” Beth said. “Just thought we’d pop in to make sure you were alright or needed anything before we headed home,” Elara smiled and reached her good hand out to them.

“Thank you both,” Elara said. “For everything. You both have been brilliant,” Beth smiled and cupped Elara’s face before placing a kiss on her head.

“Your poor arm,” Bill said disapproving as he looked over the new bandages and fresh sling- the old one had been coated in blood- on Elara’s right arm. Elara sighed.

“Yeah,” Elara said wincing as she moved the appendage in question. “It’s always the right one. Why is it always the right one?”

“I guess it’s always your right arm just like for me it’s always my left one,” John’s voice came from the doorway.

Elara let out a breath as she looked to the man who had saved her life so many times now. John had severe bruising on his face- including a cut under his swollen left eye- and his left arm was encased in a cast. Elara- with the help of Greg and Beth- stood and slowly walked over to the man. She let out a shuddery breath.

“What was done to you, Uncle John?” She asked as he carefully pulled her in to his arms.

“Well, I knew something was up,” John began. “I tried to make small talk with Marshal Thomas, but he had gotten up and began to sick up in the sink. When I walked over to make sure he was alright, he had turned and bashed me in the head with- y’know, I actually don’t know what it was he hit me with. I just know it hurt and I dropped to my knees before he got another hit and I went down fully. I guess he kicked me down the stairs afterwards. I don’t remember anything until I woke up on the ground of the basement with Greg splinting my arm just before Mycroft was able to restore power to the house and unlock the basement door for the ambulance crew. My left arm is broken, I’ve got a concussion, and a couple of ribs are broken,”

“I’m sorry,” Elara said quietly in to John’s chest as he continued to hold her. “I had no idea. If I’d known-”

“You are not to blame for this, Elara,” Greg said as he placed a hand on her back. “Marshal Thomas is. He was a grown man who made bad choices because of grief and illness,”

“It’s over now, darling,” John murmured to her as he gently pulled her away from his chest to look at her.

Elara looked at John for several moments as her eyes threatened to spill over with unshed tears. John reached out with his good hand and gently cupped her face. Elara leaned in to the touch with a sob. The dam broke then. Every bit of fear, pain, and anger she had felt since her plane had been shot down came to the surface at that moment. Elara’s knees buckled and Bill Murray was the one to catch her and sweep her up in to his arms, moving to place her in the bed that Greg made to sit on so that Bill could place Elara in his arms. John moved to sit beside the both of them, placing his hand on her back and rubbing circles.

Not wanting to intrude, Bill and Beth quickly took their leave, but not before hurrying to find Mycroft and Sherlock and sending them to their family. The Holmes Brothers hurried in to the room, finding a very distraught Elara in Greg’s arms as he and John tried to get her to calm down. John stood with a wince, moving to stand next to Sherlock so that Mycroft could take his place on the bed.

“We’re going to head back to Baker Street,” John said after a few moments. “Do you all have a place to stay for the night?”

“They’ll be coming to mine for a few days,” Lady Smallwood said as she appeared in the doorway of the room, looking sadly at the family on the bed. “The body of Jeffery Thomas has been removed, but Holmes Manor- particularly Mycroft’s office- needs cleaned up, and it will likely take a few days,”

“What will happen to him?” Elara asked, wiping her eyes as she looked up between her father and Lady Smallwood. Lady Smallwood raised an eyebrow at Mycroft.

“What do you think the best course of action would be?” Mycroft ask Elara. She was silent for several long moments.

“Bury him with his full honors,” she said. “Cover this up. Make something up. Don’t connect him to anything officially,”

“Elara-” Lady Smallwood began.

“No, ma’am,” Elara said, shaking her head slightly. “I’m sorry for interrupting you, but I’ll not change my mind on this. Jeffery Thomas allowed his grief to twist to anger, fueling his need for vengeance that was completely unnecessary. I could have you all go public with this. I could be petty and deny him his years of service with having this incident put on the record. But, it wouldn’t be right. I’ll not be him. A wise man once told me many years ago to let the past be my teacher, not my jailer. This is me learning from the past of a man who made mistakes. This is me laying my grievances to rest, alongside Marshal Thomas,”

Elara’s head fell back on to Greg’s chest and the room was completely silent following Elara’s speech. Lady Smallwood made eye contact with Mycroft, who nodded a small nod at her. Lady Smallwood let out a breath.

“Alright,” she said quietly. “I’ll see to it that this is taken care of,”

“Thank you,” Elara breathed out, breath hitching.

“A car is ready whenever you all are to take you to mine,” Lady Smallwood said. “Do let me or my assistant, Amy, know if you require anything,” Lady Smallwood left the room quietly.

“We’ll take our leave as well,” Sherlock said. “Do let us know if you require anything, brother mine,”

“Thank you, Sherlock, John,” Mycroft said. The couple quietly left.

“I am so proud of you, Elara,” Greg murmured as Elara dissolved in to tears. “You are so much better a person than so many people, love. Mycroft and I are so very proud and honored that you are our daughter,”

Mycroft wrapped his arms around Greg and Elara, content to hold his whole world in his arms. He shut his eyes and breathed in the scent of his husband and his daughter, allowing it to stay his heart, which had been racing at an alarmingly high rate since they had discovered who it was that was behind the attack. They sat like that for several minutes, Elara quietly crying as she was held and soothed by her fathers.

“I’m s-so tired,” Elara said, her voice hitching. Mycroft leaned down and kissed her head before kissing Greg.

“I’ll go and find Molly,” he said as he stood. “I’ll see if we can take you home so you can rest,” Mycroft left the room.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Elara?” Greg asked quietly. Elara sniffed.

“I’m just tired,” she murmured back. “Feel like I could sleep for a week,”

“Yeah. Getting shot does that to you,” Greg agreed. A ghost of a smile graced Elara’s lips.

“Just a graze,” she said. Greg chuckled.

“Yeah, but you were still in a firefight,” Greg said as he kissed the top of her head. “Made it through ten years in the service without getting shot only to be shot once you got back home,” Elara chuckled softly.

“Funny how that works,” she said. They lapsed in to a comfortable silence that lasted several minutes before Mycroft finally walked back in to the room.

“We can leave with her,” he said softly. “Molly will handle the paperwork,” Greg nodded and Elara made to stand.

“Don’t, sunshine,” Greg said as he stood with a small grunt, Elara in his arms. “I’ve got you, love. Just rest now,”

Elara didn’t have the energy to argue with him. She rested her head against her papa’s shoulder. The last thing she was aware of was her father draping his suit jacket over her once more as her eyes slipped closed and she succumbed to the bliss of sleep.

Chapter Text

“How is she?” John asked Greg. Greg sighed.

“We’ve been here three days now,” Greg said as he scrubbed at his face with the hand not holding his mobile.

“She’s barely eating, she won’t speak, she’s hardly sleeping, and- when she does manage to kip out- she wakes up screaming,” John let out a breath on the other line.

“I just-” Greg cut off suddenly, swallowing thickly as he blinked rapidly against the tears forming in his eyes. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help her, John,”

“Easy, Greg,” John said. “Take a breath for me, yeah? Nice, slow, deep breath for me,” Greg did as he was told.

“There you go, mate. Now, here’s what we’re going to do. I need you and Mycroft to bring her here to Baker Street. I’m going to call Beth Murray over here and she and I can talk to Elara, see if we can get her to open up and eat something,” Greg swallowed thickly.

“And if she doesn’t?” Greg asked in a barely audible tone.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” John said.

“She’s been through a lot, Greg. She’s likely still in shock and having difficulties processing things. She’s at a point right now where she won’t be willing to speak to a stranger, so Beth and I will try and give it a go and see where we can get with her,”

“Alright,” Greg said. “I’ll talk to Mycroft and then we’ll talk to Elara. I’ll text you when we’re on the way,”

“Brilliant,” John said. “I'll let Sherlock know what’s happening. Let me know if you have any issues,”

“I will. Ta, John. We’ll see you in a bit,” Greg said.

“See you in a bit,” John said before ending the call.

Greg let out a shuddery breath as he rubbed furiously at his eyes. They had been staying at Lady Smallwood’s manor for three days now and neither he nor Mycroft had gotten much sleep due to Elara struggling at night. He and Mycroft had taken to shifts so that one of them could at least try and get a bit of sleep here and there whilst the other sat with Elara. Two familiar hands on his shoulders startled him slightly.

“What did John say?” Mycroft asked him. Greg sighed.

“He wants us to bring her to him over at Baker Street,” Greg told his husband. “He’s going to call Beth Murray over and the two of them are going to try and get Elara to open up and maybe eat something,”

“Do you think this is the best course of action?” Mycroft asked. Greg stood from the chair he had been sitting at, turning and pulling Mycroft in to his arms.

“I think it’s the best chance we’ve got at the moment, darlin’,” Greg murmured as he kissed Mycroft’s head.

“John and Beth were both soldiers. John was wounded in action. They’ll know how best to handle the situation. Better than we can, at least. She needs help, My. More than we can give her at the present time,”

“I know,” Mycroft said with a sigh. “Shall we go and find Elara?”

Greg took Mycroft’s hand and they walked out of Lady Smallwood’s study in search of their daughter. Ten minutes later found the duo walking in to the garden where Lady Smallwood was sat at a table, mug of tea in her hands, her gaze fixated several metres away. Elara was sat against a tree, staring absentmindedly out in to the distance. Lady Smallwood’s dog- a Golden Retriever named Jasper- was laid beside her, his head in her lap as she stroked his ears.

“She’s been out there for a couple of hours now,” Lady Smallwood told them, her eyes never leaving Elara. “Jasper has taken a liking to her. I think he knows that his presence helps calm her down and keep her calm,” a thought then occurred to Greg.

“Mycroft, do you still talk to that chappie who trains service dogs?” Greg asked. Mycroft’s head snapped over to Greg, eyes wide before he broke in to the first genuine smile Greg had seen from him in days.

“Gregory, you are a genius,” Mycroft said before kissing the man. “I’ll call him and see if we can set up an appointment whilst Elara is at Baker Street,”

“You’re taking her to Sherlock?” Lady Smallwood asked as Mycroft left to go back inside to make the call.

“Not exactly,” Greg said. “John told us to bring her to him. I think he’s gonna have Sherlock step out for a bit whilst he and Beth Murray see if they can get her to open up,” Lady Smallwood nodded.

“If anyone can sort her, then John Watson and Beth Murray are the two people to handle it best,” Lady Smallwood said.

Greg nodded, continuing to watch as Elara tried valiantly not to nod off against the tree. Lady Smallwood offered Greg a small smile, gently squeezing Greg’s arm as he began to make his way towards Elara, whose eyes had finally slipped closed. Greg knew she didn’t have her hearing aids in, so he knelt down next to Jasper and laid his hand on Jasper’s side. Jasper lifted his head and licked Elara’s hand. Elara groaned.

“Ew, Jasper,” she whispered out before opening her eyes and looking up to see Greg. Greg smiled at her and waved before signing to her.

Fancy a trip to Baker Street?

Elara raised an eyebrow ever so slightly.

Why?

She signed back.

John and Beth want to talk to you. They are worried about you, sunshine. We all are.

Greg said and Elara sighed.

I am fine.

It is alright to not be okay, Elara. Please do not shut us out. Do not try to do this by yourself. Please. Let us help you, Elara.

Greg signed back. Elara let out a shuddery breath and Jasper nudged her hand with his nose. She gave a small smile and pet Jasper’s head a couple of times before looking to Greg.

Okay. I will go.

Greg fought to keep in the sigh of relief he wanted to let out. He smiled at her.

Thank you, sunshine.

He signed before offering a hand to help her up. She took it, wincing as he eased her up off the ground. Jasper happily trotted back to the garden patio. Greg and Elara began walking slowly back. Elara faltered slightly before she reached out and grasped Greg’s hand. Greg smiled over at her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before they started walking hand-in-hand back to the manor.

As they stepped on to the patio, Mycroft appeared back outside as well, pocketing his mobile. Elara released her hold on Greg’s hand and immediately walked to Mycroft, wrapping her good arm around him and resting her head on his chest. Mycroft did not hesitate to wrap his arms around her, holding her as tightly as he dared. He kissed her head before resting his cheek atop her head and glancing up at Greg, who nodded slightly. Greg stepped forward and snaked his arms around the both of them.

They stood there for several minutes. Mycroft suddenly became alarmed when he felt his shirt dampen. He pulled away slightly and looked down at Elara, who had tears rolling down her face. Concerned, he cupped her face in his hands and wiped away the tears that had fallen.

“I- I’m s-sorry,” Elara’s voice- hoarse from disuse- stuttered out in barely a whisper. Mycroft shook his head.

You have nothing to be sorry for, Elara. Nothing.

Mycroft signed to her. Elara let out a shuddery breath before letting her head fall back to Mycroft’s chest.

Nearly two hours later saw them all pulling up to Baker Street. Elara put her hearing aids in, knowing that John was not as skilled at BSL as she, Greg, and Mycroft were. Elara was also unsure as to whether or not Beth knew any BSL at all. Elara would have to ask and find out. Just as they exited the car, Sherlock emerged from the building. He looked up at them and smiled warmly at Elara.

BSL?

Sherlock signed to her.

You can talk if you want to. I have my hearing aids in.

She signed back. Sherlock nodded.

“I’m following up on a lead for a case, then I’ll be picking up dinner for us all. Beth and John are upstairs,” Sherlock told her. Elara nodded and Sherlock pulled her in for a gentle hug.

“It will be alright, bee,” he murmured quietly to her. “I promise,”

Chapter Text

John ended the call with Greg, tossing his mobile on to the table in front of him and collapsing back on to the couch with a sigh. John shut his eyes and rubbed at his aching head. He felt the cushion next to him dip down slightly and familiar hands pressed firmly against his temples. John sighed in contentment as he felt the pain in his head lessen slightly. Sherlock continued for several minutes, stopping when he felt the last of the tension disappear from John. John opened his eyes and looked at Sherlock.

“Not good?” Sherlock asked in a low murmur.

“Bit not good, yeah,” John admitted with a sigh, leaning forward to retrieve his mobile from the table. “Elara isn’t coping well. Barely eating, hardly sleeping. She’s also stopped speaking again. Greg and Mycroft are doing what they can, but they can’t help her like I can. Well, like Beth and I both can,”

“Beth?” Sherlock asked. John nodded.

“I’m surprised you didn’t pick up on it, but she does hide it very well,” Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows.

“Pick up on what?” John smiled over at him and brought Sherlock’s hand up to his lips.

“Not my story to tell, ‘Lock,” John said, his right hand ghosting to his left shoulder absentmindedly. Sherlock saw this, but did not bring attention to it. He simply reached over and grasped John’s hand in his.

“I need to call Beth,” John said after several minutes. “I think- if she were to join me- we both might be able to reach Elara. Get her to open up a little. If anything, we have got to get her to eat something,”

“I have a case I need to follow up on if you both would like to speak to Elara alone,” Sherlock said. “But I can pick up dinner for us from Angelo’s afterward on my way home once you are finished. Elara has never not eaten Angelo’s seafood risotto, especially if I talk Angelo in to adding more crab and shrimp to it. Oh, and bring back his tiramisu. Those are Elara’s favorites,”

John smiled warmly and pulled Sherlock to his chest, placing a loving kiss to his curls. Sherlock had come a long way from when John had first met him all those years ago. Somehow, he had managed to break through the so-called sociopathic exterior that Sherlock had built up as a defense against others, allowing John to see the true person Sherlock was. John loved Sherlock for who he was, as Sherlock did John. Sherlock squirmed against John’s gentle hold so that he could press a kiss to John’s lips.

“Call Beth,” Sherlock murmured, pressing his head to John’s. “I’ll put the kettle on,”

“Thank you, love,” John said, placing a kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Sherlock,” Sherlock smiled at him.

“And I you, John,” Sherlock said before standing and walking to the kitchen. John smiled after him before opening his mobile and selecting Beth’s number. She picked up on the second ring.

“John? Is everything alright?” Beth asked immediately. John let out a breath.

“Hey, Beth. I’m sorry to disturb you, but are able to come over to Baker Street? I need your help,”

“Of course, John,” Beth said, rummaging around in the background. “What’s going on, love?”

“Elara isn’t coping well at all. I was wondering if you’d help me talk to her. I figure that you and I can relate to her in a way that none of the rest of the group can,” John said. “If you don’t want to, I completely understand-”

“Shut up, John,” Beth cut him off. “I’ll be there in forty minutes,” John let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

“Thank you, Beth,” John said. “Dinner is on me. I hope Bill doesn’t mind?”

“Bill actually left yesterday to his sister’s,” Beth said. “She was in a car accident and broke her arm and a couple of ribs. She’s alright, but he’s going to stay with her for a few days until the corp can get her husband back from where he’s stationed in the Middle East in a few days,”

“Glad Amanda is alright. I met her a couple of times. Give them both my best, yeah?” John said.

“Of course,” Beth said as she zipped up a bag. “Right, well, I’m headed your way now. I’ll see you shortly,”

“Ta, Beth. I really appreciate this,” John said. “Be careful, and I’ll see you here in a bit,”

John and Beth bid each other goodbye and John hung up. John looked around and began to tidy up a bit. John figured that Elara was probably going to be staying the night. Even if she didn’t necessarily need to, John would feel much better if he could monitor her for the night. If she were to have any nightmares, John would be able to gauge how bad they were and give Mycroft and Greg some pointers.

Now that John thought about it, Sherlock may actually be a good person to have for that conversation. Lord knows Sherlock has dealt with hundreds of John’s nightmares and night terrors over the years. The man had gotten very good at gauging how exactly to deal with each situation as they occurred and would likely be able to give even more advice on how to handle Elara’s.

“Is Beth on the way?” Sherlock asked as he entered the room with two steaming mugs of what smelled like John’s favorite peach tea.

“’Course she is,” John said with a nod of thanks as he took his mug of tea. “She’ll be here in about forty minutes or so. I’m waiting for Greg to let me know when he and Mycroft are on their way with Elara,”

“Will we need to ready the guest room?” Sherlock asked.

“I know that I would like for Elara to stay the night,” John said. “I’d feel a lot better if I could just monitor her for a night or two and ensure she gets some sleep on top of a couple of decent meals. Bill is out of town with his sister, so Beth may also stay the night, but I’m not sure,”

“Regardless, I’ll go and get the spare linens,” Sherlock said as he finished his tea and kissed John before going to retrieve the stated items.

John let out a small sigh, placing his mug on the table before standing and following Sherlock down the hall to the linen closet. He was rummaging around within the tiny closet, murmuring to himself as he looked for what he needed. John reached out and grasped his arm. He tugged gently at Sherlock’s arm until the man was standing to face him.

“It’s alright, ‘Lock,” John said as he brought his husband to his chest in a hug, keeping firm pressure around the man’s core. “She’ll be alright,”

Sherlock let out a small, near imperceptible shuddery breath and let his head drop to John’s shoulder. John continued to hold Sherlock in his grip until he finally felt the man sigh as the tension finally melted away from Sherlock’s body. John loosened his grip, allowing his hands to fall from around Sherlock to rest on the man’s biceps. Sherlock lifted his head and John pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Better?” John asked. Sherlock gave a tiny smile, kissing John once more.

“Better,” he answered John.

“Good,” John said with a smile. “Because I need you to get the feet out of the bathroom sink if we are having company,” Sherlock let out a gasp of protest as John snickered on his way back to the front room.

Chapter Text

After Sherlock had left, Elara was quickly brought upstairs to 221 B by Greg and Mycroft. John immediately swept Elara inside and in to his arms as Beth greeted Mycroft and Greg. Greg was pulled in to a hug by Beth.

“It’ll be alright, love,” Beth said. “We’ll put her right,”

“Thank you, Beth,” Mycroft said as Beth turned to him. He was taken aback slightly as she hurried to hug him as well. He returned the hug after a second.

“No need for thanks. I am happy to help. You lot are family now,” Beth said.

Mycroft swallowed thickly before releasing Beth and turning to where John and Elara were. John had made quick work of sitting Elara on the couch, draping a blanket over Elara’s shoulders and pressing a mug of tea in to her hands. There was also an unopened package of her favorite chocolate biscuits- the very ones that Mycroft had shared with Elara upon their first meeting all those years ago- in front of her on the table. Beth walked over and sat down next to Elara, wrapping her arm around her shoulder and pressing Elara to her side. John walked out on to the landing with Greg and Mycroft.

“Since the boys have left the room,” Beth said to her in a low tone. “I’m going to ask you something. What you say to me will not leave my person unless I deem it necessary to tell someone else for your personal safety. Do you understand?” Elara nodded her head.

“At any time- be it in Russia or during the confrontation at your home- were you ever touched or assaulted against your will?” Beth asked in a very calm tone. Elara’s head snapped up, horrified as she shook her head.

“No. Never. Nothing like that happened,” Elara whispered out truthfully. Beth felt a bit of relief wash over her as she nodded.

“Thank you for telling me the truth,” Beth told her. “I’m sorry, but I had to ask and I know that you wouldn’t want knowledge of that on your fathers’ shoulders,”

“Thank you,” Elara whispered out with a sniff.

“Is there anything at all you want to tell me or talk about with the boys out of the way?” Beth asked her. Elara shook her head.

“Alright. If you change your mind at all tonight, tell me. If you change your mind down the line, my number- and Bill’s- has been programmed in to your new mobile, as I am sure you have seen. You can reach out to either of us. Any time, any day. If you need us, we will answer. We will be there,” Beth said.

Elara- unable to speak- nodded her head, sniffing as she rested her head on Beth’s shoulder. John, Mycroft, and Greg entered the room again after a few more minutes. Mycroft approached the couch and knelt down in front of his daughter.

“John would like to keep you here overnight. Is this alright with you, or would you like for me or Gregory to stay or return back to Lady Smallwood’s with us?” Mycroft asked her. Elara sat up.

“I’ll be okay here,” she whispered out. “Go and get some rest,” Mycroft pulled his daughter in to his arms, placing a kiss to her head.

“If you need us at all, you call me or have John of Beth call me,” Mycroft told her sternly. Elara gave him a tired smile.

“I’ll always need you both,” Elara told him before kissing his cheek. “But you both are exhausted. Go get some sleep. I’ll be alright here, I promise. If anything changes, we will let you know,”

Mycroft engulfed Elara in his arms once more, taking care to wipe the tears from her face before kissing her head once more. He stood and Greg quickly took his place, hugging her and gently rubbing his fingers along her scalp.

“We love you sunshine,” he said as he kissed her forehead. “Everything’ll be alright,”

“I love you both too. So very much,” Elara whispered out.

Greg held her for several moments before he finally released her and stood. John walked them both to the door, promising to call the moment Elara needed them. They left and John turned to the women on the couch. He walked over and sat down on the table in front of them, reaching out for Elara’s hand. Elara took it after a moment. They sat there in silence for a long time, Elara’s hand in John’s and Beth’s arm around Elara’s shoulders.

“The nightmares are back,” Elara whispered out eventually. John looked up at her, not saying anything as he wanted her to continue uninterrupted.

“They’re not just about what happened recently,” Elara murmured under her breath. “Things I thought I’d long gotten past. Things I’d rather not ever remember,”

“You are referring to your childhood before Mycroft took you in, yes?” John asked gently. Elara nodded.

“It was the same for me, when I got back,” John said. “There were nightmares and night terrors of the war, yes. But, that trauma also brought back memories of my childhood,” Elara squeezed his hand and Beth reached out her other hand and placed it on John’s knee.

“I won’t go in to too much detail, but my father was a brute of a man, especially after my mum died. I took a lot of beatings for Harry. She left home at sixteen and I didn’t blame her for it. I finally had enough at fifteen and ran out, never looking back,” John said quietly.

“What- what happened to him?” Elara asked.

“He died during my second deployment. Drank himself to death and died alone. Neither Harry nor I went to his funeral,” John said.

“Did- did they stop? The dreams?” Elara asked. John thought for a moment.

“They became less and less,” John answered carefully. “They are very rare now, but they do still crop up occasionally. Nowadays, it’s mainly the war, Sherlock getting shot, and Sherlock’s fall more than anything,”

“You’ll have your good days and your bad days,” Beth said. “Just know that you are not alone in this at all, sweetheart. You’ve got John and Sherlock, your fathers, your aunts, Sally, and even Bill and myself now. Stay within your support system. Rely on them. Ask for help when you need it. Don’t shut people out, Elara. I can attest personally that shutting people out will do more harm than good in the end,” Elara furrowed her eyebrows and glanced up at Beth.

“As you know now, John, Bill, and I- amongst several others- were all part of a Special Ops group. We specialized in POW retrievals and snatch-and-grabs, which is why John was placed in charge of heading our group to get you back- he was the leader of our Special Ops group back when it was active,” Beth explained.

“About six months after our group was disbanded and we were dispersed within our branches, I was captured by a group of hostiles who had been tailing me for my part in a hostage retrieval we had done prior. John and Bill were stationed elsewhere in the world. It was just pure coincidence that they saw and recognized me and decided to act. They waited until I was alone one night after exercises. I’m actually ashamed to admit that I was not on my guard as I usually was. Bill and John were going to be crossing paths with me soon and I was excited to see them again, especially Bill. We weren’t together yet, but we both knew it was what we wanted,”

“They took me down surprisingly easily. A simple tranquilizer to the neck and I was down for the count. I woke up in some shabby little shack, chained up to the wall. They wanted me to disclose where the other members of our Special Ops group were so that they could go after them as well. I refused to say anything. They had me for twenty-seven days. They used many different methods of torture to try and get me to talk. I refused, of course. I won’t go in to detail, but they were very creative with their methods,”

“John and Bill- once they discovered I had disappeared- immediately reformed the group and came looking for me. When they found me, I’d been beaten nearly beyond recognition. I actually thought I had been hallucinating John when he appeared above me at first. John was the one to free me from my bindings and started to finally give me some relief to my pain. I was nearly on the verge of unconsciousness when two hostiles burst in, having gotten past the rest of the Ops team. John immediately dropped one of them, but he wasn’t quick enough for the other one and John shielded me with his body as he was shot through his shoulder,” Elara gasped quietly at this revelation, looking to her uncle who nodded.

“Still ended up getting Beth, though,” John said bitterly. “Damn bullet went straight through me and in to Beth’s abdomen,” Elara’s head snapped to Beth, horror in her eyes.

“John saved my life that day, undoubtedly,” Beth said. “He’d been grievously injured himself, but he paid it no mind. He took out the other hostile and continued to work to save my life. I don’t really remember much after that until I woke up in a military hospital in Iraq with John right beside me,”

“What happened?” Elara asked. John looked to Beth, who nodded.

“My whole life, I wanted to be a mum,” Beth said as she swept a piece of hair from Elara’s face that had escaped the braid Greg had done for her that morning. “I wanted so desperately to have my own children. I was the oldest of four, so I was able to see my own mum go through the stages. I knew what to expect and I was so excited and eager to be a mum myself,”

“So, when I woke up in hospital and the doctors told me that- in order to save my life- I had to have my uterus removed, I broke down completely. I still feel bad to this day the way I acted and the things I said to John and Bill,” Beth said quietly. “I admit, I threw things. I screamed. I asked Bill what he would ever want with me now. I even demanded John to tell me why he bothered saving me. I am still so sorry about that, John. I never should have placed that on your shoulders,”

“No, Beth,” John said firmly, but not unkindly. “I never once held any resentment or ill-will towards you for how you acted, nor for what you said. You were grieving,”

“Still doesn’t excuse the behavior,” Beth said. “I refused to speak. I didn’t eat. It got bad enough to the point of them having to forcibly shove a feeding tube up my nose before sending me to psych,”

“Bill and I got through to you eventually,” John said. Beth smiled.

“Bill called me an idiot and proposed to me anyway,” she said with a soft smile on her face.

“He told me that my not being able to have children changed nothing about how he felt about me. We had our ups and downs, of course. I had nightmares an a near nightly basis for months, but it got better as time went on with the help of Bill- and John, of course,” she said with a small smile towards John, who returned her smile with one of his own.

“Once we both retired, we became licensed foster parents, specializing in emergency placements and children who need specialized care. We’ve helped dozens of children now. While it doesn’t take away from the pain and disappointment of not being able to bear my own flesh and blood, it helped me heal,” Beth told her.

“The more you try to shut everyone out, the harder you’ll make this for yourself, darling,” John said, reaching out to wipe the stray tears that had coursed down her face at Beth’s story. “Let us help you, love,”

“I’m just so tired,” Elara said with a small sob. “I just want to sleep. Just one night. Just a few hours. I just want sleep,”

“Here’s what we’re gonna do,” John said. “Sherlock is going to be back shortly with dinner for us all. We’re all going to eat, then we’re going to camp out in the front room here and watch movies until you fall asleep. If you’d like, I can give you something that will help you to sleep and stay asleep,” Elara nodded, more tears pouring down her face.

“Please,” she whispered out. “Please, I just want to sleep,”

Elara dissolved in to tears, curling over in to herself. John did not hesitate to stand from his position on the table to sit next to his niece, wrapping his arms around her firmly as she sobbed. Beth rubbed her back as John carded his fingers through her hair.

“Easy, darling. You’re alright,” John murmured in to her hair.

“Just breathe, Elara,” Beth said. “We all grieve, baby girl. We just have to make sure it doesn’t consume us,”

Chapter Text

Greg and Mycroft exited the vehicle an hour-and-a-half after leaving Elara at Baker Street with John and Beth. Greg stretched with a small groan before he and Mycroft approached the farmhouse. Just as they were about to reach the steps of the front porch, a young woman- seemingly a few years younger than Elara came from around the back with a dog close at her heels. She glanced up and then did a double take, a wide grin appearing on her face as she giggled and rushed towards Mycroft, who smiled and opened his arms to catch her. Mycroft released her and she backed up slightly, her hands signing so quickly that Greg couldn’t keep up. Mycroft smiled at her and pulled Greg closer to him. Mycroft signed back to her, but spoke aloud for Greg’s benefit.

“This is my husband, Gregory,” he said as he signed. “Gregory, this is Rachael O’Malley, Charles’ daughter, and her service dog, Rocky. She is completely deaf. Rachael, Gregory can sign a bit, but he cannot sign or comprehend sign as quickly as you and I, so we must go slowly,” Rachael grinned and nodded, turning to Greg.

Hello, Gregory! My name is Rachael! Very pleased to finally meet you!

She signed to him. Greg smiled back.

Hello, Rachael! Please, call me Greg. It is very nice to meet you as well!

Greg clumsily signed back.

“Is your father in, Rachael?” Mycroft asked as he signed.

Rachael nodded, smiling as she beckoned them around the back of the farmhouse. She led them to a barn, entering the building and locating her father. She clapped once and the man glanced up from where he was attending to four different dogs and smiled at her and their guests.

“Mycroft,” he said, approaching them and shaking Mycroft’s hand.

“Charles, thank you so much for seeing us on such short notice,” Mycroft said. “May I introduce my husband, Gregory Holmes-Lestrade?”

“Pleased to meet you, sir,” Greg said as he shook the man’s hand. “Thank you so much for helping us out on this,”

“Please, call me Charles,” he said with a smile. “I’m happy to help with this. More than. I’ve pulled four dogs for you that I think will fit well with what your daughter needs. They are trained to recognize alarms, timers, ringtones, mobile alerts, doorbells, and the like. They are also trained to alert if they see someone trying to get their owner’s attention. They can detect smoke and carbon monoxide and are trained to get their owner out should they smell it. They can also understand an array of commands in BSL and they are more than capable of learning more. These four are also very adept at detecting the feelings of people. If they sense anything negative, they will assist the owner as the situation needs it,”

There were four dogs sat in a row, tails wagging. Two appeared to be golden retrievers, one was a yellow lab, and the fourth one was a chocolate lab. Mycroft and Greg approached the animals.

“What do you think, Gregory?” Mycroft asked as Greg knelt down to greet the dogs. Greg got to the chocolate lab and noticed scarring on his poor little ears.

“What happened to you, buddy?” Greg murmured as he gently stroked at the dog’s head.

“That’s Bucky. I rescued him as a puppy,” Charles said, noticing that Greg had seen the scars. “A small group of teens were doing what they pleased with the poor thing when I came across them. I manage to get the pup from them and brought him back here. He’s the first dog I’ve trained that I’ve not also bred. He’s very guarded at first, but warms up to people very quickly and is fiercely loyal and protective,” Greg grinned madly, looking up to Mycroft.

“This one,” Greg declared. Mycroft cocked an eyebrow.

“Are you sure?” He asked as he knelt down to hold his hand out for the dog to sniff.

“Absolutely,” Greg said. “He’s got a lot in common with Elara. I think he’ll do very well with her and vice-versa,”

“Yes, I think you’re right,” Mycroft said as he reached out a hand to pet the dog’s head before looking up to Charles. “I believe this is the one we will take,” Charles grinned brightly.

“Oh, brilliant!” He exclaimed as he excitedly clapped his hands together once.

He turned to Rachael and signed something to her that Greg didn’t catch. The girl nodded and hurried off to do whatever it was her father had requested, Rocky following close behind her. Charles turned back to Greg and Mycroft.

“Alright. Let me get these three put in the pen out back and I’ll be right back with you three,” Charles said as he took the three dogs not chosen outside behind the barn.

“Do you think Elara will like him?” Mycroft asked as he allowed Bucky to investigate his umbrella. Greg smiled as he glanced over at his husband.

“Yes,” Greg said. “She looked more relaxed with Jasper earlier today than I’ve seen her since before this whole debacle started. She’d started to even doze off with his head in her lap. This is the right decision to make. Even better that he’s trained to assist the deaf and hearing impaired,”

“Speaking of,” Mycroft said, wincing as he stood. “We have more shopping to do if we are to make our home more accessible for Elara and now Bucky,”

Mycroft offered a hand to Greg, who took it and was hoisted up to a standing position. Bucky also stood, but stayed where he was, looking from one man to the other as he awaited instruction.

“What all would we need?” Greg asked.

“Well, smoke alarms with LED alert flashes for starters,” Charles’ voice cut through, startling both men.

“I can show you what I had installed as well as a couple of websites that strictly sell technology for the deaf and hard of hearing. The fire alarms I’ve got work beautifully, but might deafen anyone who isn’t already deaf. Before you buy too much, you’ll want to see what she would prefer for more personal affects such as wake-up alarms and other alerts,” Charles said as he knelt down and slipped a service vest on to Bucky.

“And, of course, if you have any questions or need any help with anything, I will be more than happy to lend a hand,” Charles said, a folder in his hand. “It’s a bit overwhelming at first, but it’ll be less so if you’ve got someone who knows their way around this side of things,”

“Charles, I truly cannot thank you enough for all of this,” Mycroft began. “If there is any way I can repay you-”

“Oh, bah,” Charles said as he waved his hand in dismissal. “Think nothing of it, Mycroft. You’ve done so much for me and Rachael over the years. This is the least I can do for you,” Rachael and Rocky entered the barn at that moment, pulling a wagon behind her.

“We’ve got you a bag of food to get you started,” Charles said as he took the wagon handle from his daughter and pulled it towards the men. “We’ve also got a package of Bucky’s favorite training treats, his leash, a food and water bowl, his dog bed, and a couple of toys for him. I have here in this folder his training and service animal certifications and licenses, vet records, and proof of vaccinations. We use a local vet clinic for all our animals, but the records can be easily transferred elsewhere since I know we are pretty out of the way for you,”

“Thank you, Charles,” Greg said, reaching his hand out to shake Charles’. “This is wonderful, truly. Thank you for everything you do to help others,”

“It’s no problem, really,” Charles said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Just happy to help others who need it,” Rachael approached them and began to sign to Mycroft.

Please give your daughter my number. Let her know that I am happy to lend a hand or answer any questions or even just an understanding mind if she needs it.

Rachael signed to them. Mycroft smiled and hugged her. He released her before signing back.

Thank you, darling. I will let her know and ensure that she has your contact information.

Mycroft signed. She smiled and turned to Greg.

Nice to meet you Greg. Good luck with Bucky! He is a truly wonderful dog and one of my favorites.

Greg smiled at her and signed back slowly.

You as well, Rachael. We will take good care of him for you.

Rachael smiled, signed something to her father- who nodded at her- and left the barn, Rocky trotting happily beside her. Greg turned to Charles with a smile.

“Lovely girl,” he said. Charles smiled fondly after his daughter as he watched her leave the barn.

“My whole world, that girl is,” Charles said. “Much like I’m sure Elara is both of yours’ as well,”

“Too right, I’m afraid,” Mycroft said before turning to Greg. “Well, shall we continue on our quest?”

“Let me help you load up the vehicle,” Charles said as he wheeled the wagon out on to the gravel.

“Come along, Bucky,” Mycroft called to the dog, who followed immediately.

Charles helped them load the vehicle with Bucky’s things, showing them how to attach his harness to the dog seat belt he also supplied them with before wishing them luck and to reach out with any questions or problems. Mycroft and Greg got in to the vehicle and they drove off towards their home, which had finished renovations earlier that day. Mycroft and Greg’s mobiles went off with a text alert at the same time. Both men opened their mobiles, seeing that John had sent a photo to their Four Musketeers group chat.

The photo showed Elara, bundled up in a blanket next to a half-eaten package of chocolate biscuits, her head in John’s lap and her feet in Sherlock’s as she slept soundly. Mycroft let out a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding in.

“Thank God for John Watson,” Greg said as he reached out and grasped Mycroft’s hand. Mycroft smiled over at him and pressed his lips to the back of Greg’s hand.

“And Beth Murray, of course,” Mycroft added as Greg let his head fall on to Mycroft’s shoulder.

“And Beth too, yes,” Greg agreed. They were silent for several minutes.

“She’ll be alright,” Greg said suddenly, squeezing Mycroft’s hand lightly. “It’ll be an adjustment for her- and all of us- but everything will work out in the end,”

Chapter Text

Sherlock hurried up the steps to his and John’s flat, his arms laden with bags of take-away from Angelo’s- who insisted on giving him extra portions when he heard that Elara was not wanting to eat. He knocked gently before entering, seeing that Elara was seated on the couch with a mug of cocoa and munching on a chocolate biscuit. Something in Sherlock’s chest loosened at the sight of Elara eating something- even if it was only just a biscuit or two.

“You didn’t buy Angelo out, did you?” John said with a grin as he took a couple off the bags off Sherlock. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Of course not, John,” Sherlock said as he began to unpack the bags on to the table. “Angelo heard Elara was back and having a rough go and wanted to ensure she ate properly,” John smiled as he got out plates and cutlery.

“A saint, Angelo is,” John said as Beth entered the kitchen.

“Oh, wow,” she said. “Are we feeding the army?” John snickered as Sherlock rolled his eyes again.

“No,” John replied. “Our friend, Angelo, runs the Italian place we frequent and he’s taken Elara in as an honorary niece. He’s worried and- when Angelo worries- his answer is food,” John said as he gestured to the food on the table.

“Clearly,” Beth said with a grin. “Anything I can help with?”

“If you could put the kettle on, that would be great,” John said, his hands full with plates as he tried to dish out food.

“Do stop trying to be an octopus, Uncle John,” Elara’s voice startled the other three adults. “I’ll put the kettle on. Beth, could you please make sure Uncle John doesn’t ruin Angelo’s hard work by dropping anything?”

“You are supposed to be resting,” John said as he tried- and failed- to hide a grin. Elara rolled her eyes.

“Yeah? And how’s that working out for you so far?” Elara sassed back as she filled the kettle.

Beth snorted as John sighed. Sherlock turned his head to hide his grin. They all did their separate tasks before sitting down to eat. By the time they were all finished, Elara hadn’t eaten as much as she usually did, but it was enough for John to be happy. After dinner, John and Sherlock made quick work of putting the food away before they all retired to the front room. John turned on a Disney movie and they all settled down to watch as a package of Elara’s favorite chocolate biscuits was pressed in to her hands by Sherlock. Elara rolled her eyes, but opened the package and pulled out a biscuit to nibble on, quickly finishing it and reaching absentmindedly for another. Before she knew it, she had eaten nearly half the package of biscuits.

Elara was exhausted to her very core. She- and consequently her fathers as well- had not been sleeping well at all since the attack on her in her father’s office. She tried valiantly to stay awake after a pitiful twenty minutes of the movie, but she was losing the fight very quickly. She suddenly found an old afghan- one that her beloved Nanny Hudson had made her Uncle Sherlock many years ago- being draped over her as Sherlock guided her to lay down with her head on a pillow that had been placed in John’s lap and her feet in Sherlock’s lap.

“Relax, darling,” John murmured as he undid her braid and carded his hand through her hair. “We’ve got you,” Elara reached up and pulled the hearing aids out of her ears and placed them in to Sherlock’s outstretched hand.

Will you stay?

Elara signed hesitantly.

As long as you need us, bee.

Sherlock signed back. Elara set her head back down on John’s lap with a shuddery breath. She lasted another few minutes before her eyes slipped closed and she drifted off. The other three adults waited for several minutes before Beth finally broke the silence.

“Is she out?” Beth asked in a low tone.

“Yeah,” John said, never ceasing in running his fingers through her curls. “Her breathing has evened out and her pulse has slowed. She’s asleep,”

“Should we move her to bed?” Beth asked. John shook his head.

“No. I don’t want her to wake up in my arms and panic,” John said. “If she wakes in the night and wishes to go to bed, then we’ll take her to bed. Otherwise, I’m staying right here with her,” Beth smiled, pulling out her mobile and snapping a photo before sending it to John.

“Greg and Mycroft will appreciate that photo,” Beth said before leaving the room.

John smiled at her retreating form before saving the photo and sending it to the aforementioned men. John carefully arranged the blanket over Elara, ensuring that she was covered properly. Beth returned a few minutes later with fresh tea for the three of them that she handed to each of the men on the couch, both men thanking her before she returned to the chair she had been seated in.

“Let me know if you both need anything,” Beth said as she sipped from her mug. “I’d be happy to get it for you so as to not disturb Elara,”

“Thank you, Beth,” Sherlock said.

“You’ve been brilliant, Beth, thank you,” John said with a smile. “If you aren’t wanting to return home tonight, you’re welcome to the spare bedroom upstairs. We changed the sheets this morning. It can get a bit colder up there, so, if you need extra sheets or blankets, we have spare in the linen closet by the bathroom down the hall,”

“Thank you both,” Beth said with a gentle smile. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like to stay the night just in case, but I’ll probably kip out down here with you lot in case something happens,”

“Well, if you change your mind, the bedroom upstairs is free,” Sherlock told her. Beth smiled and nodded.

Much to the relief of everyone, Elara slept mostly through the night, only waking once with a small gasp and a jolt, but she insisted she didn’t know why she had woken. Beth helped her to the loo before she returned to the couch, wanting to stay closer to everyone for the night. John had her drink a bottle of water and eat two biscuits before he let her fall back to sleep.

Elara woke much more slowly the second time around. Her head was still on a pillow in someone’s lap, but she knew it wasn’t her Uncle John. She wriggled a bit in place and glanced up to see her Uncle Sherlock, head tilted back and snoring softly. She smiled at the sight before glancing over at her Uncle John’s chair, where Beth was curled up asleep. John suddenly appeared in her line of sight, kneeling down in front of her with a smile.

Good morning. Breakfast is nearly done. How are you feeling?

John signed to her before helping her to slowly sit up.

Better. Stiff and sore.

Elara signed back, wincing as she tried to move her right shoulder slightly.

When you are ready, I will have a look at that. I can make sure that graze wound is clean and healing up and then we can have a spot of breakfast.

Elara nodded, going to use the loo before meeting John in the kitchen. He made quick work of her arm and collarbone surgical site, nodding to himself in satisfaction as he helped her ease her arm back in to the sling. Sherlock took that moment to stumble bleary-eyed in to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes with his fist in a way that John couldn’t help but smile softly at as he walked over to his husband and pulled him in to his arms. John said something to Sherlock, but wasn’t sure what it was he said. She turned her gaze to her mug of tea, wanting to give them a moment of privacy as they embraced. Elara started at a hand tapping her arm gently. She glanced up to see Sherlock holding her hearing aid case out to her.

If you would like them. You do not have to wear them if you do not wish to.

Sherlock signed to her as she took the case from him. She smiled at him, signing her thanks before placing the devices in her ears.

“I don’t want to put anyone out,” Elara said quietly as she fiddled with the mug in front of her. “And I’m not sure if Beth can sign or not, so I don’t want to be rude-”

“I’m actually quite adept at BSL,” Beth said as she suddenly appeared in the doorway. “I learned in the service, but kept up with it because we have an elderly, deaf neighbor that we help out and house-sit for frequently,”

“And it wouldn’t be rude,” Sherlock said. “Everything that has happened to you- including your deafness- was no fault of your own. You are communicating effectively in a way that you understand. John and I also understand it, so even if Beth was not fluent, either one of us would happily translate for the both of you. It would not be rude, Elara. Trust me, I know rude. That would not be it,” John snorted at that.

“Definitely not rude,” John said with a grin. “Compared to everything I’ve seen Sherlock do and say over the years, that is so far from rude, darling,” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“John exaggerates,” Sherlock muttered in to his mug of tea. John scoffed good-naturedly.

“Yeah. Exaggerating. Alright, then,” John said as he rolled his eyes.

“John, I am eccentric- an acquired taste,” Sherlock said as he steepled his hands under his chin, leaning back in the kitchen chair. “If you don’t like me, then acquire some taste,”

“Jesus,” John said. “You aren’t just a drama queen. You’re the whole bloody Royal Family,”

Beth nearly snorted tea out of her nose and Elara found herself genuinely laughing for the first time in a long time. John smirked as Sherlock scowled and rolled his eyes before hurrying over to Beth and patting her back to help clear her airway as she coughed and sputtered.

“Dare I ask what chaos my little brother has caused now?” Mycroft’s amused voice came from the kitchen entryway. Elara’s head snapped to her father and she stood up and hurried over to hug him. Mycroft wasted no time in wrapping his arms around his daughter.

“Actually, it was John causing the chaos this time,” Beth said as she finally stopped coughing and cleared her throat. Mycroft chuckled softly before placing a kiss atop Elara’s head.

“Have you eaten yet?” Mycroft asked her. Elara shook her head.

“I was just about to start breakfast,” John said.

“Where’s papa?” Elara asked as she peeked around Mycroft to see if Greg was waiting in the front room.

“He had something to finish up at home,” Mycroft told her as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “He is also making breakfast, unless you would rather eat here?” Elara bit her lip and glanced over at John, who smiled at her.

“Go home, darling,” John said kindly. “Go and be with your fathers. You know to call me if you need me,” Elara crossed the kitchen and hugged her uncle.

“I’ll always need you,” she murmured to him as he gently wrapped his arms around her. John released her after a few moments and kissed her head.

“Go on, then,” he said with a grin. “And, if Greg is making those cinnamon rolls, have one for me, yeah?” Elara grinned.

“Of course, Uncle John,” she said.

Mycroft and Elara pulled up to the Holmes-Lestrade manor shortly afterward. Elara heaved herself out of the vehicle one-handed before linking her arm through the offered arm of her father as they walked inside. Elara was hit with brief flashes of memories as they passed by Mycroft’s office. Mycroft- who missed nothing- gave her arm a gentle squeeze, keeping Elara grounded and in the present.

“Gregory? We’re home, love,” Mycroft called as they walked in to the kitchen.

Greg was pulling a pan of his cinnamon rolls out of the oven. When finished, he turned to them, slinging a tea towel over his shoulder as he broke out in to a relieved and warm smile before ushering Elara in to his arms. Greg placed a loving kiss to her forehead before letting out a content sigh.

“Did you sleep alright, sunshine?” He asked her. Elara nodded against his chest. “Good. Breakfast is nearly done. Hope you’re hungry,”

“Starving, actually,” Elara said with a grin as Greg released her. “I’ve been dreaming of your cinnamon rolls for months now,”

“Well, go and set your bag down in your room and then we’ll have breakfast,” Mycroft told her.

“Alright. Be right back,” Elara said before she left the room and headed upstairs to her bedroom.

Elara stopped in front of her closed door and noticed a button on the wall next to the door. Confused, she opened her door and was slightly taken aback at the changes. On her wall, there was a new smoke detector that appeared to have an LED flash alert on it. She glanced over and saw another light now above her door. Curious, she reached around and pressed the button outside her bedroom, smiling lightly as the green light above her door turned on every time she pressed the button. She entered her bedroom fully, tossing her bag on to her desk chair to unpack later after breakfast. She turned to leave, glancing at her bed before stopping. There were two bowls- one empty and one filled with water- and what appeared to be a large pillow-looking thing on the floor by the foot of her bed. Elara furrowed her eyebrows.

“Are they expecting Caesar to live in here with me?” Elara muttered to herself as she left her room and headed back down to the living room.

“Dad, Papa, what’s with the animal bowls and bed-”

Elara stopped dead in her tracks as she looked up and saw her fathers standing hand-in-hand smiling at her with a gorgeous Chocolate Lab dog sitting obediently in front of them. Elara let out a small breath as she saw the service vest on the animal. She knelt down slowly and held her hand out to the dog, who immediately approached her and sniffed her hand before nudging her hand with his head for her to pet him.

“This is Bucky,” Mycroft told her. “He is yours, darling,”

“He’s a trained service dog for the deaf and hard of hearing,” Greg said. “He also is adept with detecting emotions and can help if you feel upset or overwhelmed,”

“I trust you saw the updates to your bedroom?” Mycroft asked. Elara nodded.

“You-” Her voice cracked horribly with emotion and she swallowed thickly, clearing her throat before trying again.

“You both did all this for me?” She whispered out as she looked up at them, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. Greg and Mycroft wasted no time in kneeling down next to her and pulling her in to their arms.

“Of course we did, Elara,” Greg said.

“The smoke alarm is for your safety. I plan on installing more in the kitchen and all the main rooms as well,” Mycroft said as he rested his chin atop her head. “The light above your door is so that we can ask for permission to enter your bedroom if you can’t hear us knocking. At some point this week, you and I can go over a few websites that specialize in technology for the deaf and hard of hearing and we can get you anything that strikes your interest. And Bucky is an added protection and assistance for you as well as something to help you if you feel overwhelmed or upset and we are unable to assist you,” Elara choked back a sob.

“Thank you,” she whispered out as the tears she had been holding at bay finally cascaded down her face. “I love you both so much. Thank you for all this,”

“We love you too, sunshine,” Greg murmured to her as he gently rubbed her back. Bucky laid down with his head in Elara’s lap.

“Good boy, Bucky,” Mycroft said before kissing Elara’s head and turning her to look at him.

“This is going to be an adjustment for us all,” Mycroft said as he brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. “We will likely stumble along the way, but we will overcome this as we have every other obstacle that we have encountered over the years- Together,”

Chapter Text

Six Months Later:

“So, are you gonna do it, then?” Sally asked her as she sipped her coffee. Elara let out a breath.

“I think so,” she said as she fiddled with the mug in front of her.

Elara had met up with Sally at their favorite coffee place just around the corner from The Yard. Greg had put in for retirement shortly after Elara had come home from Baker Street after the shooting in the Holmes-Lestrade house, claiming he’d had enough excitement to last him several lifetimes, thanks to Sherlock. Sally had then stepped up to the role of Detective Inspector and was currently engaged to a coworker of Molly’s that she had introduced to Sally- who immediately requested that Elara be her Matron of Honor.

“I’m back to work now,” Elara said. “Working at Bart’s in the A&E isn’t quite like it was in the service, and I’m happy where I’m at now, but I just-” Elara cut off, unable to describe exactly what it was she was feeling.

“You want the independence you once had,” Sally finished for her knowingly.

“You want to prove- not just to everyone but also to yourself- that you can be independent,” Elara let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding in. Sally had just explained it perfectly.

“That’s- That’s exactly what it is,” Elara said with a small grin, which Sally returned.

“I kinda felt the same way,” Sally told her. “After the whole thing with Anderson and I was staying with you lot there for a spell. I knew that if I didn’t try to go back home, then I never would. I wanted to prove to everyone, but mainly myself, that I could do it. That I could be alright again on my own,”

“And look at you now,” Elara said with a grin. “A D.I. of Scotland Yard, civilly and willingly working with Uncle Sherlock, and a hunk of a doctor to marry in a month,” Sally snorted.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sally said as she rolled her eyes at Elara. “Who’d have thought, right?” They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments before Sally broke it.

“How will you tell them?” She asked Elara. Elara bit her lip.

“Not sure,” Elara murmured before looking Sally in the eyes. “Surely it can’t be more difficult than my ‘Joining the Royal Air Force Medical Corps’ announcement,” Sally sucked in a slow breath.

“I dunno,” she said in a light, almost teasing tone. “You’d have always come back from the RAF on leave. Their little girl could be leaving and never coming back now. Who knows, once you get a glimpse of the real world, you may never wish to return,” Elara scowled and chucked a small chunk of her pastry at Sally, who snickered at her antics and brushed the crumbs from her face and blouse.

“Seriously, though,” Sally said as her grin faded in to a kind smile as she reached out and grasped Elara’s hands in hers. “You’ve got a plan as to what you want to do and where you want to go. It’s a sound and good plan. And, in the very rare event that it fails, you’ll have all of us to fall back on,”

“Thanks, Sally,” Elara said with a small smile before glancing at her mobile. “Shit, it’s getting late. I need to get going or I’ll be late for dinner,”

“Yeah, don’t want your dad sending in the army to find you if you turn up missing again,” Sally said with a grin as they tossed some bills on to the table. Elara rolled her eyes.

“It wasn’t the army,” Elara said.

“It was John- former Army Captain- Bill Murray- former Army Colonel- Beth Murray- former Royal Air Force Marshal- Mycroft, Lady Smallwood, and Anthea- all former MI5- and Sherlock and Greg- the crime solving duo,” Sally said counting on her fingers as they exited the cafe. “It may as well have been the army,” Elara stayed silent, knowing that Sally did have a point.

“I’ll tell them tonight at dinner,” Elara said as they reached the steps of the NSY building.

“Text me, yeah?” Sally said as she hugged Elara. “Let me know how it goes,”

“Of course,” Elara said as she released Sally. “Remember we and the bridesmaids have out final dress fittings next week,”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sally said as she waved Elara off. “Quit stalling. Go and claim your independence,”

Elara snorted, but did as Sally bade her. She hugged the woman goodbye one final time before turning in the direction of the main road to hail a cab. Just as she was about to give up, a sleek, black, unmarked car pulled up beside her. Elara rolled her eyes, but smirked as the window rolled down and her father peeked out at her.

“Can I give you a lift?” Mycroft asked her. Elara huffed out a laugh, rolling her eyes once more as she got in to the car and hugged her father.

“You do know that I could have taken a cab home, right?” Elara asked as she cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Now why would I have let you do that when I was just down the road running an errand?” Mycroft asked her. Elara grinned.

“An errand?” She asked innocently.

“An errand, yes,” Mycroft said as he fidgeted ever so slightly in his seat. Elara stared at him with a smirk as Mycroft determinedly looked anywhere but in her direction.

“And does papa know that you intend to ask him to ‘marry you’ for your twentieth wedding anniversary?” Elara asked, grinning madly when Mycroft swore lightly under his breath, confirming her deduction.

“Yeah, not so fun when you’re the object of the deductions, is it?” Elara said, still smirking.

“Do not make me make you walk the rest of the way home,” Mycroft threatened with no real bite. Elara snickered before falling to the side to rest against her father’s shoulder.

“You wouldn’t do that to me and we both know it,” Elara said lightly as she looked up at him with wide, green eyes.

“Hush. I’m cross with you,” Mycroft told her. Elara snorted.

“Only because I figured out your plan. You’re losing your touch, old man,” Elara said teasingly.

“Get out. You’re walking now,” Mycroft said as he playfully tugged a lock of her curls. Elara giggled as she wrapped her arms around Mycroft’s middle.

“Why don’t you make me?” Elara said smugly. Mycroft sighed.

“No thank you,” he said as he rested an arm around her shoulders. “Too much legwork involved,” Elara snorted.

“Or you’ve deduced that I can lay you out in less than ten seconds and don’t want to prove that particular deduction,” Elara said.

“Don’t be cheeky,” Mycroft said. They continued to tease back and forth until they arrived home, continuing the banter as they walked in to the kitchen.

“Do I want to know what you both are bickering about?” Greg said with a grin as he pulled the both of them in for a hug.

“You and dad are both old,” Elara said with a grin. Greg let out a mock gasp of offense.

“You bite your tongue, child,” Greg told her. Elara snorted, kneeling down to greet Bucky as he came through the dog door after he heard Elara inside the house.

“How was Sally?” Greg asked after a few minutes as he placed mugs of tea down on the table as they waited for dinner to finish baking in the oven.

“She’s alright. She loves being a D.I., but not fond of the paperwork involved,” Elara said. Greg chuckled.

“I warned her,” he said amusedly.

“What of the wedding planning?” Mycroft asked.

Mycroft- years ago- had began to see Sally as one of his own. When she got engaged, her fiancé had sought out him and Greg for permission for Sally’s hand. They gave their blessing- Mycroft had already thoroughly vetted the man and abducted him twice- and Mycroft insisted on helping pay for the ceremony. Sally had- in turn- hesitantly asked if Mycroft and Greg would escort her down the aisle. Both men readily agreed. Sally bawled when they both answered her so quickly and eagerly and she nearly choked Mycroft and Greg hugging them so hard.

“We have our final dress fittings next week,” Elara said as she sipped her tea. “Nothing much more to do on her part. I’ll be finalizing the timetable with all the vendors and other details with Auntie ‘Thea in the next couple of days. You both need to go in for your final fittings on Tuesday. If you both don’t show or are late, you’ll be offered a choice of either me or Auntie ‘Thea to deal with you both,”

“We’ll be there, I assure you,” Mycroft told her, not wanting to incur either woman’s wrath. They were silent for several minutes before Greg broke the silence.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, sunshine?” Greg asked her. Elara glanced up at him questioningly.

“You have a look on your face. The same look you had for the two weeks leading up to your decision to join the RAF,” Greg said. “You’ve been thinking hard on something important. And don’t tell me it’s just about Sally’s wedding. Contrary to what Sherlock says, I’m not an idiot,” Elara snorted.

“He’s not called you an idiot in a while,” Elara said.

“He says it without saying it,” Greg clarified. “It is heavily implied in the sarcasm,”

“That’s just his love language,” Elara said. Mycroft bit his lip to stifle a grin.

“Nice try, My. I can see you,” Greg griped. Mycroft smiled guiltily as he reached to grasp Greg’s hand. Greg turned to his daughter. “I’m also not going to fall for your attempts to get the spotlight off of you,” Greg said with a smirk as Elara let out a breath.

“I just- I didn’t know how to tell you both-”

“Just tell us, little one,” Mycroft said as he grasped one of her hands whilst still holding Greg’s with his other. Elara bit her lip before taking a deep breath.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said carefully. “I- I’d like to try living on my own,” there was a stretch of silence before Mycroft spoke.

“If you are certain on this-”

“I am,” Elara interrupted her father in a confident voice. “I’ve found a place that is closer to Bart’s as well as Baker Street. I’ve vetted the landlord. He’s a pleasant old man and he said it would be absolutely no issue to have the necessary technology installed for my safety and comfort. He’s met Bucky and Bucky likes him too, and Bucky is an excellent judge of character,” Greg looked on amused as Mycroft let out a breath.

“You’ve done your research,” Mycroft said as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re sure you want to do this?” Elara nodded as Greg took her other hand in his.

“I know I don’t have to prove anything to anyone in the family,” she stated. “I know you all know that I can do it, but, I guess I just need to prove it to myself,” Greg lifted the hand he held hers with and pressed a kiss to it.

“Elara,” he said gently. “You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, you included. You already know you can do this, which is why you’ve already done your research and even vetted the landlord. Because of what you’ve been through, you’re cautious, and that’s a good thing,” he told her.

“But, you’re letting your caution lead to self-doubt,” he continued. “Never doubt yourself, love. You can do anything you put your mind to. You’ve overcome so much in your life, and your father and I could not possibly be more proud of the woman you have become. Never, ever doubt that, or yourself, Elara,” Elara smiled a watery smile as she wiped the tears that fallen with her sleeve, as both hands were occupied.

“You wake up every morning to fight the same battles that have left you exhausted from the day before,” Mycroft said. “And that, my darling girl, is pure courage and bravery,” Elara sniffed and Mycroft pulled her in to his arms.

“You’ll be required to have dinner with us at least once a week,” Greg said as he stood and pulled the both of them to his chest. “And you’ll text us? And phone when you can-”

“Papa,” Elara said as she reached out and grasped his hand. “I’ll be fine. Everything will be fine,” Greg let out a breath before kissing her head.

“I know, sunshine. I just worry,” he said as he rested his head atop hers. They sat there for a moment before Bucky barking and tapping Elara and then Greg and then Mycroft with his nose startled the three of them.

“What is he doing?” Greg asked as he tried to shush the dog, who was still barking.

“He’s signalling,” Elara said before sniffing the air.

“Um, papa, I think dinner is burning,” Elara said seconds before the smoke alarm in the kitchen went off.

“Shit!”

Greg yelled out several colorful swears over the wailing of the alarm as he rushed to get the now burnt chicken from the oven. Mycroft hurried to open the windows as he waved a tea towel around to dissipate the smoke a bit. Elara hastily removed her hearing aids from her ears, silencing the alarm to a much quieter level as Mycroft reached up to reset the device. Elara reached down to pat Bucky on the head.

“Good boy, Bucky,” she said as she stood and retrieved a small treat to give him. Elara replaced her hearing aids back in to her just in time to hear Greg swear once more.

“Fucking Hell,” Greg growled as he bitterly grabbed the pan of chicken-bake-turned-flambé and placed it in the sink, turning on the tap. “Fucked it up, you have, Lestrade. Bloody Christ,”

“You’re gonna go bankrupt to the swear jar if you keep that up,” Elara said brightly.

Greg’s head snapped up to Elara, his face pinking slightly when he noticed that she had replaced her hearing aids back in to her ears. He shut his eyes and groaned before taking a deep breath.

“Sorry, guys,” he said before gesturing to the mess in the sink. “No way I can salvage this,”

“No matter,” Mycroft said as he pulled his husband in for a kiss. “We can go out,” Elara grinned.

“I’ll need to shower first, but I’ll be quick,” she said before hurrying upstairs. Greg and Mycroft watched her go.

“We are about to be empty nesters,” Greg said.

“I suppose we are,” Mycroft said as he pulled Greg to his chest. “At least she won’t be in any direct danger this time,” Greg chuckled.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that, love,” Greg said amusedly. “She is a Holmes after all,” Mycroft huffed out a laugh.

“I suppose you’re right,” Mycroft said. “She does tend to take after her uncles,”

“Yeah,” Greg said. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “D’you think we should warn the landlord chappie that there’s a chance he might find thumbs in her fridge?” Mycroft burst out laughing, Greg following suit shortly afterwards.

Two weeks later, Elara closed the door to her new flat. Her family had just left after helping her move and unpack. She looked down at Bucky, who was laying down in front of the couch.

“Well, Buck, it’s just us now,” she said.

Bucky stood and walked over to her and she reached down to pet his head. She stood after a few minutes and went to shower before getting ready for bed. She climbed in to bed, Bucky jumping up after her to lay down by her side, and texted her fathers to give them her love and bid them goodnight before settling down in to the covers. She scratched Bucky’s ears absentmindedly as she thought about everything in her life that had brought her to this point.

I wouldn’t change a second of it. Elara thought. Not for the world. She smiled before drifting off to sleep, excited for what this new chapter in her life would bring her.