A Study of the Heart and Brain (Book 4) Chapter Twelve
Father Figure! Sherlock Holmes x Teen! Reader
Chapter Twelve: Confrontational Reunion
Summary: Sherlock, (Y/N), and John track down Mary. Ajay does the same.
“Agra?” said Mycroft, raising a brow.
After Sherlock and (Y/N) had recovered from Mary’s escape—apparently it would be good to assume in the future that she always had some sort of weapon or drug on her—they had quickly gone to first tell John and then go to Mycroft for information. Then, they could find Mary. She was a talented agent, but they weren’t going to let her disappear.
“A city on the banks of the river Yamuna, in the northern state of Uttar Pradesh, India,” said Mycroft. “It is 378 kilometers west of the state capital, Lucknow.”
“What are you, Wikipedia?” said Sherlock.
“Yes,” said Mycroft smugly.
“AGRA’s an acronym,” said (Y/N).
“Oh, good, I love an acronym,” said Mycroft. “All the best secret societies have them.”
“Team of agents, the best,” said Sherlock. “But you know all of that.”
“Of course I do, go on,” said Mycroft.
“One of them, Ajay, is looking for Mary, also one of the team,” said Sherlock.
“Indeed. Well, that’s news to me,” said Mycroft.
“Is it?” said (Y/N), narrowing their eyes. “Since their last job was for the British government, we thought you might know a bit more about the situation.” They smiled and tilted their head.
“They’re getting fast,” said Mycroft, smirking at Sherlock, who grinned. Mycroft looked back at (Y/N). “AGRA were very reliable. Then came the Tbilisi incident. They were sent in to free the hostages, but it all went horribly wrong. And that was that. We stopped using freelancers.”
“Your initiative?” said Sherlock.
“My initiative,” said Mycroft. “Freelancers are too wooly, too messy. I don’t like loose ends. Not on my watch.”
“There was something else,” said Sherlock. “A detail. A codeword.” He wrote it down.
“Ammo?” read Mycroft.
“It’s all we’ve got,” said Sherlock.
“But it was just heard over the phone, so spelling could vary if it means something,” said (Y/N). In the world of spies and assassins, all possibilities had to be considered.
“Could you do some digging, as a favor?” said Sherlock.
“You don’t have many favors left,” said Mycroft smugly.
“You owe me,” said (Y/N).
“For what?” said Mycroft.
“Magnussen,” said (Y/N).
“I had to keep Sherlock from being exiled for that,” said Mycroft.
“Yeah, but that was because other people wanted him kept alive, not you,” said (Y/N). They leaned forward. “So even if the British government doesn’t owe me, you do.” They smiled. “Would you help us, please?”
Mycroft hummed. “Sherlock, they’re becoming quite impertinent.”
“I know. I’m proud,” said Sherlock, smiling at (Y/N), who smiled at him.
“However…say you do find who’s after her and neutralize them, then what?” Mycroft looked intently at his brother. “You think you can go on saving her forever?”
“Of course,” said Sherlock.
“Is that sentiment talking?” said Mycroft.
“No, it’s me,” said Sherlock.
“Difficult to tell the difference these days,” said Mycroft.
“Told you, I made a promise. A vow,” said Sherlock, gaze hard and set.
“Alright, I’ll see what I can do,” sighed Mycroft. “But remember this, family mine.” For all the sentiment insults, (Y/N) was considered a Holmes by Mycroft as much as by anyone else. “Agents like Mary tend not to reach retirement age. They get retired in a pretty permanent sort of way.”
“Not on my watch,” said Sherlock.
… (Y/N) glanced down, and their fingers twitched for a lollipop.
l
(Y/N) leaned back with their eyes closed as the Moroccan heat baked the entire house they were in despite the shade. They were used to London air—which lacked sun so often that no one remembered it existed.
Sherlock was playing a board game with a boy, Karim, who had given them some water while they waited for Mary to arrive.
“You haven’t got a chance. Not a chance,” he said. “I got you where I want you. Give in, give in. I will destroy you. You’re completely at my mercy. Mr. Baker. Well, that completes the set.”
“No, it is not,” said Karim.
“Well, who else am I missing?” said Sherlock.
“Master Bun. It’s not a set without him,” said Karim. “How many more times, Mr. Sherlock?”
Sherlock’s luck with board games continued to be poor. “Hmm, maybe it’s because I’m not familiar with the concept.”
A woman walked around the corner and stared in astonishment at the gathering. It was Mary, holding a gun, not having expected them at all.
“Oh, hi, Mary,” said Sherlock.
“Hello, Mary,” said (Y/N).
“What concept?” said Karim.
“Happy families,” said Sherlock. He looked back at Mary. “Nice trip?”
“How the f—”
“Please, Mary, there are children present,” said Sherlock.
“I’ve heard and seen worse,” said (Y/N).
“Still a child,” said Sherlock.
“How did you get here?” exclaimed Mary.
“Karim let us in,” said Sherlock.
“Hello,” said Karim.
“Karim, would you be so kind as to fetch us some tea?” said Sherlock.
“Sure,” said Karim, rising and heading to the door.
“Thank you,” said Sherlock.
“No, I-I mean, how did you find me?” said Mary.
“We’re Holmses,” said (Y/N).
“Really though, how?” said Mary. “Every movement I made was entirely random. Every new personality, just on the roll of a dice.”
“Mary, no human action is ever truly random,” said Sherlock. “An advanced grasp of the mathematics of probability mapped on to a thorough apprehension of human psychology and the known dispositions of any given individual can reduce the number of variables considerably. I myself know of at least fifty-eight techniques to refine the seemingly infinite array of randomly generated possibilities down to the smallest number of feasible variables.”
Mary nodded.
“But that’s super hard, so we just put a tracker on the flash drive before we met you,” said (Y/N), straight to the point.
“Oh, you bastards,” said Mary, beginning to laugh.
“Yeah, but your face,” said Sherlock, grinning.
“ ‘The mathematics of probability,’ ” said Mary.
“You believed that,” said Sherlock.
“ ‘Feasible variables,’ ” said Mary.
“He hadn’t practiced any more lines,” said (Y/N).
“In the memory stick,” groaned Mary.
“Yeah, that was my idea.” John stepped into the room.
Mary looked at him, and her smile turned somber.
“We need to talk,” said John.
Mary nodded.
“AGRA,” said John.
“Yes,” said Mary.
“You said it was your initials,” said John.
“In a way, that was true,” said Mary.
“In a way?” repeated John. He shook his head. “So many lies.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Mary.
“I don’t just mean you,” said John.
“What?” said Mary.
“Alex, Gabriel, Ajay. And you’re R,” said John.
Mary nodded.
“Rosamund?” said John.
“Rosamund Mary,” said Mary. “I always liked Mary.”
“Yeah, me too,” said John. He smiled, but it fell. “I used to.” He stood and turned away.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” said Mary.
“You could have stayed. You could have talked to me,” said John. “That’s what couples are supposed to do. Work things through.”
Mary nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course.” She looked down, knowing she had been in the wrong.
“Mary, I may not be a very good man,” said John. “But I think I’m a bit better than you give me credit for. Most of the time.”
“All of the time,” said Mary. “You’re always a good man, John. I’ve never doubted that You never judge. You never complain. I don’t deserve you, I…All I wanted to do was keep you and Rosie safe, that’s all.”
“I will keep you safe,” said Sherlock. “But it has to be in London. It’s my city, I know the turf. Come home and everything will be alright, I promise you.”
A red dot appeared on John.
“Get down!” shouted (Y/N).
Mary’s reflexes were quick, and she pulled John to the ground as a loud “Bang!” shattered the night. More gunshots followed as the group found cover, Sherlock pulling (Y/N) close protectively. Ajay kicked the doors of the hotel open and came in, gun still cocked. Mary pulled hers and shot at him. The two circled each other before ending up behind columns in the wall.
“Hello again,” said Ajay.
“Ajay,” said Mary.
“Oh, you remember me, I’m touched,” sneered Ajay.
“Look, I thought you were dead. Believe me, I did,” said Mary.
“I’ve been looking forward to this longer than you can imagine,” said Ajay.
“I swear to you, I thought you were dead,” said Mary. “I thought I was the only one who got out.” She held out her gun to Sherlock, and he took it. Now Ajay wouldn’t know who had it.
“How did you find us?” said Sherlock.
“By following you, Sherlock Holmes,” sneered Ajay. “I mean, you’re clever. You found her, but I found you, sir. Perhaps not so clever. And now here we are. At last.”
Sherlock shot the light, and they were thrown into darkness.
“Touche,” said Ajay, now having a harder time figuring out where they were.
“Listen, whatever you think you know, we can talk about this, we can work it out,” said John.
“She thought I was dead,” scoffed Ajay. “I might as well have been”
“It was always just the four of us. Always, remember?” said Mary.
“Oh, yeah,” said Ajay.
“So why do you want to kill me?” said Mary.
“Do you know how long they kept me prisoner?” said Ajay. “What they did to me? They tortured Alex to death. I can still hear the sound of his back breaking. But you, you, where were you?”
“That day, at the embassy, I escaped,” said Mary.
“Ha!” scoffed Ajay derisively.
“But I lost sight of you, too. So you explain, where were you?” said Mary, buying for time.
“Oh, I got out. For a while,” said Ajay. “Long enough to hide my memory stick. I didn’t want that to fall into their hands. I was loyal, you see. Loyal to my friends. They took me, tortured me. Not for information. Not for anything except fun.”
(Y/N)’s gaze went to the ground. Even if they didn’t want him to hurt Mary and didn’t agree with going after people without proof, they could understand his pain.
“They thought I’d give in. Die,” continued Ajay. “But I didn’t. I lived. And eventually, they forgot about me rotting in a cell somewhere. Six years they kept me there. Till one day, I saw my chance. Oh, and I made them pay. You know, all the time I was there, I just kept picking up things. Little whispers, laughter, gossip. How the clever agents had been betrayed. Brought down by you!”
“Me?” said Mary. He really believed it, just as (Y/N) said.
A truck passed by, and light circled in. Everyone moved at once. Sherlock handed the gun back to Mary, and Ajay stepped out. They faced each other, guns drawn. John held his own gun at the side, trained on Ajay.
“You know I’ll kill you,” she said. “You know I will, Ajay.”
“What? You think I care if I die?” said Ajay. “I’ve dreamed of killing you. Every night for six years. Squeezing the life out of your treacherous, lying throat.”
“I swear to you, Ajay,” said Mary.
“What did you hear, Ajay?” said (Y/N). If he would just see sense, then maybe they could stop this situation from escalating. “When you were a prisoner, what did you hear that made you think Mary betrayed you? What exactly?” They needed facts, logic.
“Ammo,” said Ajay. “Every day, as they tore into me, ammo, ammo. We were betrayed!”
“And they said it was Mary?” said (Y/N). “They said her name?”
“Yeah, they said it was an Englishwoman,” said Ajay, still glaring at Mary.
There. It couldn’t be certain it was Mary. (Y/N) opened their mouth.
Bang! Bang!
Two shots from the doorway. Ajay fell. He lay unmoving.
“No, no!” Mary fell to her knees next to Ajay.
The policeman who had arrived at the site of the gunshots stared at the scene in front of him. (Y/N)’s eyes softened in sadness. They had been so close.
But too late all the same.
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