Chapter 44 head above water

A/N: Thanks Tishbing for looking this over and for your encouragement now get to writing more I have to know what happens next in both of the stories i'm currently following! you are a beast! Also thanks all for your encouraging reviews. here is another chapter. Soon we'll be at an end. Sorry for the slow builds and concentrating on the OC characters but they are so much easier to kill then a regular one. So :p lol Thanks for the follows, come join my tumblr at Marylousfanfictionspace

John's nerves were strained from the week of walking on eggshells. He had to keep up the façade that he wasn't bothered by Granmere's murder, by the fact that Jim was wearing John's bonding bracelet, that his sister was dead and certainly unaffected by Sherlock's and Mycroft's planned demise.

Sebastian wasn't helping by following him around the compound like an unneutered puppy. John's stomach clenched at the Alpha's touch and he easily side-stepped the taller soldier.

"John, I think I've proven my worth to you. Why do you move away? I'm not like the bastard you were with. I saved you from him."

John couldn't keep the sneer out of his voice. "You saved me for your own selfish purposes. I'm not a fool, Sebastian. I'm not interested and James has made it clear that I don't have to be with anyone. I have a job."

"Dammit, John!" Sebastian snarled, blocking John's retreat from the designated rec room. Several of the other thugs in the room looked up from their card games, pool game and darts. The air was heavy with tension and John sensed the Omegas in the room start to hiss. The other Alphas weren't bothered by the scene. Some were actually amused. John knew he would find no help from this lot. Everyone here was of mixed gender but James had one rule and that was everyone was obedient and loyal to him. They weren't paid to care and John never understood indifference. Everyone here had their own story and he was the new guy. They didn't respect any sign of weakness, no matter the gender.

So, John standing up to Moran was turning a couple heads but that was it. John wanted to escape, his biology demanded he submit to the angry Alpha. It took the soldier's trained stubbornness to keep him rooted in place. He growled in response, controlling his anxiety.

"You bloody Alphas think you can throw your weight around and I'll submit. Well, let me tell you Sebastian Moran. I didn't submit to the lunatic that carved MINE into my shoulder and I sure as hell am not going to submit to you! Now get the fuck out of my way! I have had the longest day repairing and treating you lot from gunshot wounds, to crabs! Now. BLOODY. MOVE!"

John pushed past the tall blond soldier and barreled through the heavy doors of the rec room. He kept his steady momentum, passing Caleb without a nod and he kept marching towards his room. Once inside, John ran to his personal bathroom and emptied out the contents of his stomach, which wasn't much considering he was finding it hard to eat under this stress.

Dammit, and he still hadn't come up with a plan to save Sherlock and Mycroft. He owed Grandmere that much. There was a knock on his door. "Go away!" He shouted. "I'm off duty!"

The knock was insistent. John wiped his mouth, hoping his anxiety wouldn't be so apparent.

"Sorry." Caleb took a step back, eyes darting around the room behind John, holding his breath. "The boss has orders."

John sighed, "Of course he bloody does. He must think we are all machines!" Caleb didn't respond he only kept his distance from the doorway and John rolled his eyes. "Let me grab my medical bag."


The job was simple, or so Sebastian said, he glared at those standing around listening to his instruction. They were to drop off a shipment of newly liberated army weapons and pick up the payment. John was going along because James wanted him to get used to the work they did. He didn't expect casualties. It was a simple enough run that Sebastian had done several times. James didn't need John to bring his bag. He, instead, handed John a 9mm. John felt the weight in his hands, wishing to turn it on the smug posh Omega bastard. Instead, he smiled a thanks and checked the weapon for bullets, placing it easily into the waistband of the designer jeans he was wearing.

"I'll take my bag anyway."

"Have fun, Johnny boy. Make me proud. Oh and boys, remember to bring back my money or don't come back at all." John loathed the sing song voice and itched to take out that weapon and put a bullet in the bastards head.

The three Alphas and one other Omega in the group nodded their understanding. John watched the skinny dark haired Omega, dressed in white today with his signature red tie pop something in his mouth. John thought it was odd that the boss of such a dangerous empire was taking oral heat suppressors. Why not take something that lasts longer? John's shots seemed to always work. He made a note to himself. He would casually bring up the topic with the quick minded Moriarty. Until then, it gave him an idea. A plan was starting to form.

"Oh! Sebby! Remember what we talked about earlier. I don't want to be bothered while I'm on my date tonight. It's bad enough I've had several interruptions. Oh wait! Johnny boy! Maybe you can help me. I'm trying to break in a new stud. A male by the name of Gregory Lestrade. A beautiful specimen, if I've ever seen one."

Warning bells were going off but John kept his usually passive face. GREG! "Greg?"

"Yes that delicious Scotland Yard Detective Inspector."

"I thought he was only into Alphas." John shrugged, "What about him?"

"Well he agreed to a second date."


"You're surprised? I can see it in your face. I just want to take a ride and then maybe rub it in Mycroft's fat face. Take a ride, then maybe bring the man here where he can be broken in and retrained. Clara promised me she would give me a few tips. She, after all, has the best insight-well look at me holding up the conga line. Just go, Johnny boy. We'll talk later."

Great! That's all John needed, just one more bloody person to worry about. He had to act soon!


John reached the getaway van under the cover of fire before any of the others. The driver started the engine. "Do you have the fucking money mate? Tell me you got it!"

"Yeah! Wait!" John panted as the man started to hit the gas. "The other's are still back there!"

"Bad luck for them. We've got what the boss wants!"

"No! We can't just leave them! It's a war zone out there!"

"And they knew what they were getting into!" The driver, an Alpha by the name of Keith, snapped back. "Now sit down and shut up!" John whipped out the loaded 9mm pointing it at the man.

"Fuck you! Now, you listen and you listen good. We are going to wait!" John didn't understand why he cared so much. These weren't any of his friends. However, something in him couldn't just leave them behind. Other than Moran, the others hadn't ever done anything to John. It was wrong to just leave them to be picked off. It seemed the arms dealers wanted to keep the money and the weapons.

"You have to be kidding!" Keith hissed, griping the wheel keeping his foot on the brake.

"I'm dead serious!" John growled just as the back doors opened. It was Sebastian. He was panting hard from running and adrenaline.

"What the fuck is going on?" Sebastian growled.

"He was going to leave."


"You know the rules. The boss cares about the money!" Keith turned to meet the challenge in Sebastian's eyes.

"It's not the time! Where's Caleb and Marcus?" John lowered his weapon, the sound of bullets bouncing off the outside of the van made him flinch.

"I don't know. But they are getting closer."

"We aren't leaving anyone!" John yelled back.

"John, they're probably dead!" Sebastian replied.

John couldn't believe his ears. These people were loyal to no one. "Well, keep the bloody money!" John tossed the metal case away from him, moving to open the van's doors.

"John!" Moran made a grab for him but John was quick and slipped out. He fired a few returned shots. He yelled out. "Caleb! You idiot where the hell are you?"

The parking garage wasn't helping with the loud pops from the bullets, and the flickering lights, John couldn't see who was shooting but he knew there were just a handful of men with military grade rifles. He kept himself on the left side of the van keeping it between him and the unknown attackers. He ignored the argument going on inside between Keith and Moran. God this sucked.

Caleb and Marcus finally answered and John spotted them just a few feet away using a black SUV for cover. The same SUV that housed the stolen weapons. They were stuck and John knew they would be running low on bullets soon.

He climbed back into the van, pounding on the door before allowing Moran to pull him inside.

"Move!" John pulled a surprised Keith from the driver's seat. He shifted the van into reverse tossing the two Alpha's inside to the back of the van. Then with a screech of tires John was turning the wheel aiming for where the two men were pinned.

"GO! I'll follow you!" John commanded as he moved to the other van climbing inside, he had learned a few things from Sherlock so hot wiring a SUV wasn't going to be difficult. Thankfully, someone left the keys in. He didn't have to shout for the two men to get in. Marcus was already pulling Caleb in and slamming the door. Just like that, they were inside and John was speeding away, the smell of blood very apparent. John followed Keith and Sebastian. When they had managed to get a few miles away with no sign of pursuit John pulled the SUV up alongside the black, apparently bullet proof vehicle.

"We have to lose the vehicle." Keith snapped. "Go to the rally point. I have another van we can utilize. This one's shot up and we don't want to attract attention."

John just followed the idiot's route, trying to ignore the pounding in his head and the ache in his leg. It wasn't long until they were climbing into another van, this time white. John had his bag and he was grateful for it. Marcus was grazed by a bullet and it took a large chunk from his bicep. This was a quick pack job. However, Caleb was going to be a harder fix. He had taken a bullet to the side and the amount of blood he was losing was increasingly alarming. Keith and Moran loaded up the stolen, restolen weapons minus the ones their aggressors had decided to keep.

John was holding pressure to it. "Leave him! He's going to slow us down." Keith snapped. John only drew his weapon again. "I said we don't leave anyone behind."

"Fuck off Keith. I'm still breathing!" Caleb snarled.

"Sebastian, help me get him to the other van." John didn't ask. He ordered and everyone tensed.

Moran hesitated. "He's dead weight-"

John growled turning his gun on the other Alpha. "I wasn't going to let Keith leave you behind and you aren't going to let him leave Caleb! Now this is fixable! However, the longer we wait, the less fixable it is!" John snarled, keeping pressure to the bleeding Alpha's side.

Sebastian nodded. "Fine." He helped the injured man out of the van. Marcus produced a gas can out of nowhere, dousing the inside with the accelerant then lighting a match.


Later, after John had sewn Caleb up, he had a moment to reflect and tend his own wound. It seemed he managed to be grazed by a bullet low on his thigh. Caleb was receiving a blood transfusion, his eyes glazed over from pain medication.

"I owe you, doc." Was all he said before falling into a painless sleep. John only wondered what the hell he was doing. Saving these lives was pointless. He just couldn't bring himself to let people die.


John was exhausted but James still summoned him to the office, which was just a posh study with expensive leather couches and a white carpet. One that John had heard some of the lackeys complain about having to clean up and replace every other day.

Dead on his feet, the Omega entered the already open oak doors. He noted some of the less friendlier of James's thugs were standing outside. These ones, in their expensive westwood suits always wore black with matching red ties. Sebastian had introduced them as the cleaners. They weren't the type to shampoo carpets by the looks of them.

"Wonderful! I'm glad you decided to join us, Doctor Watson!" Moriarty snapped pacing back and forth. John thought the man's scent was off. He was agitated and more twitchy than usual.

"Sorry. I was just cleaning up." John sighed, swaying on his feet, his leg throbbing in rhythm with his aching head.


John didn't envy Sebastian at that moment. James had his full fury turned on the tall blond, his green eyes narrowed and unblinking.

Sebastian took a deep breath, his posture relaxed. He must be used to this kind of interrogation from his boss. However Keith and Marcus were eyeing the door nervously.

Sebastian surprised John by keeping himself in front of the Omega. Marcus was giving off an anxious scent and John rolled his eyes. Moriarty was unaffected, his face scrunched up and he let out a dangerous warning hiss towards the offender.

Sebastian was attempting to explain that these long time clients had planned on double crossing and keeping the weapons as well as the money.

"Oh, this is a load of shit!" John stepped forward, "Jim, they had the idea that they could keep both. It's simple. We decided they couldn't. We have the money and the weapons. I'm sure they're hightailing it out of town realizing it wasn't as easy as they hoped. I don't appreciate the fact that when shit gets rough the rule is to turn on those who are loyal to you. "

James wasn't accustomed to being spoke to like this. "John wouldn't leave Caleb or Marcus behind. He, also is the reason we have the weapons. Things got heavy and he acted-"

"Like a bloody madman! I told him to cut those two loose. They know the rule! They were dead weight! We almost-" Keith cut Sebastian off with a growl and Moriarty cut the Alpha off with one bullet to the head.

"Well, that's solved. I was wondering who to kill for this cock up. He was so annoying." James smiled brightly. "Johnny! I'm so proud of you! You're such a surprising Omega." Then he glared at the other Omega in the room. "Marcus!" James growled. "Stop with that stink and learn from this soldier here. And you're right, John Watson. We shouldn't leave men behind. Hmmm, maybe I should change the ever changing rule. Now, everyone get the fuck out of here! I have a headache! And my date was ruined! That bastard Mycroft Holmes is a knott blocker!" John released the breath he had been holding. So Lestrade was safe. Good.

He sidestepped the two cleaners who entered to drag the body of another dead man. "Dammit, Jim. That's four this week!" Sebastian growled. "And it's only tuesday!"


Mycroft ignored his mother's question. His eyes were only trained on something just behind her. A photograph on the mantel. Something from long ago when he and Sherlock had been children. Grandmere had always seemed old and she had worn her black mourning clothes.

He leaned back in his throne-like chair, his elbows resting on his antique oak desk. His mother was frowning. She sighed, sitting in front of her son, pouring them both a large glass of scotch.

"Mycroft. Now is not the time to stand divided. Your grandmother would say that to you if she were here." Violet pushed the crystal tumbler towards her son. They were both wearing black. Violet made sure her black dress was unwrinkled as she adjusted the skirt over her thin legs, crossing them she leaned back.

"You don't remember him but I do. Your grandfather, " Violet smiled sadly. "He was very big on family. That's why he followed your Uncle Walter into war. Grandpa Johnathan was CIA. He had built up an empire of contacts and forged so many covert deals. He was a genius chess player and he loved your grandmother. This, was very apparent. There was never a doubt and he loved everything she did. He knew if her sister died she would go as well. So, he chose out of loyalty to follow Walter Hill around." Violet held a sad expression. "Or at least he thought that's why he was keeping the other man close. I've heard from several witnesses that the two were good friends. Unlikely friends but friends still. " Violet sipped the dark liquid before continuing.

"Your grandmother hated me. She thought I was a poor choice for her son. His temperament wasn't-well. When I first met him he was so carefree and young. He could dance Mycroft. Your father he was an excellent dancer. He-" Violet shook her head. Her son was about to interrupt her and she waved her hand. "Hear me out. You will listen to me. I know you think I am a weak Omega for allowing what I did but your father wasn't the same man then. He took on the family business. He thought he could fill your grandfather's shoes. He was very wrong. I hated her for trying to make him into the same man your grandfather was. I feared that he would go and follow those damn Hills to his death!

Instead he gave into his own vices. He was working a mission and wasn't as clean as some of the ones you do. He was too deep, too involved. I know that when he returned home, he was addicted to the drugs he was supposed to be stopping from entering into the country. He was different. He had a scent that wasn't mine and he wasn't ashamed of it. Responsibility will do things to young men. It can twist you if you're not strong enough. And he wasn't. God help him, he wasn't strong. Not like you, Mycroft. Not like Sherlock. I know I worry about your brother. I worry that of the two of you he is the one that would turn out like his father.

Your father gave up on this family long before his life ended. You are young. You can't blame your cousin for this folly. The blame is not inward either. It should be placed on those who dared strike this family! Do not go down the road of selfish feuding. The Holmes family motto is clearThere is logic in family. It's true Mycroft. Separate, we are targets but together, we are a force. Your grandmere died-she had no words for me. She had only a blank look and dammit, I swear she's looking down on me. That old witch finally did it. She got the last word. Well, I won't have the blame for this family falling apart placed on my shoulders. You will find those who did this and you will see them suffer slowly for daring to challenge what is ours.

Commoners would hiss and lash out at anyone. We are not common, son. Your brother has been out there, working tirelessly to find his fiance's murderers. What are you doing? Blaming your cousin? I want you to send your own men to guard Quinton, Aunt Hill and Tobias's room. No one will touch what is ours. Then you will focus on the bigger picture. Our family is under attack. What will you do about it? Grandmere's funeral is in a week. I expect you tell me exactly what you plan on doing after. They've spilled blood. We will take all that is theirs and burn it! Do you understand? Now, I hear from sources that all of us are under attack. I want you to put extra guards on those open for attack. This sweet DI that Sherlock swears you're sweet on? I want him here!" Violet cut off any protests his son would have with a hard look, one she borrowed from Grandmere Holmes.

Mycroft's eyes were focused on the woman that had taken his mother's place. "Yes, mother. It will be done."

"Oh and Mycroft, the time for beating around the bush and pretending indifference is over. Yes? I think it's time to tell those you love just how you truly feel before it's too late." Violet stood, taking a quick drink from the glass before placing it firmly on her son's desk. "Good boy."

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