Y/N's P.O.V.
"You're looking... better." Mycroft muttered as he sat in the chair next to the bed I was in.
"Don't lie, Mycroft, you're no good at it." I mumbled tiredly.
"What do you want?"
"There are rumours going around. Rumours that a certain Consulting Criminal faked his death." I looked down at the sheets covering my beaten and bruised body.
"There true, aren't they? He's the one that took you?"
"He didn't take me anywhere. I went to him." Mycroft looked confused and I explained that if I didn't go to him, he was going to the wedding. That he threatened Sherlock.
I answered all of his silly little questions and once he got what he wanted, he got up to leave, letting me know John and Sherlock were waiting to see me.
"Mycroft, let me tell them? They should hear it from me." He hesitantly nodded, leaving the room. A few moments passed, before the door opened, revealing the duo.
"Hey, you two. I guess I should thank you both for saving my arse."
"Who did this to you? Mycroft wouldn't say anything." Sherlock asked almost angrily, taking me by surprise.
"That's because I asked him not to." I sighed and they both looked confused.
"What pain meds are you on?" John asked and I laughed weakly.
"None. It's horrible." His eyes widened.
"I've had enough drugs pushed into my system, thanks."
"Why would you tell Mycroft not to tell us?" Sherlock asked.
"Because when you find out the truth, you're going to hate me more than you already do." I sighed.
"And you should hear it from me."
"I don't hate you, why does everyone think I hate you?" Sherlock sighed and I raised an eyebrow.
"Sherlock the first time you tried to properly deduce me out loud, you told me I was an only child, who got out of a long-term relationship before you faked your death." I explained.
"You also thought I had some kind of criminal record, something that tied me to Moriarty."
"Yes, but it was wrong, how is this relevant?" He asked.
"No. You were right, mostly." I corrected.
"I used to have a brother, a twin. We had each other's backs our whole lives, we had to, because there was no one else who cared. We were as close as siblings got. Our parents weren't exactly... good in their parenting roles. Honestly, they were bloody awful. They hated us. So when Sebastian said we could leave and join the army, I followed. It was our only obvious escape, but somehow we made it. We trained and we killed and we made our way through the ranks."
"I don't see how this is relevant." Sherlock mumbled and John scoffed. I just smiled a little at the interaction.
"So, you were a soldier. I guessed that from watching you fight."
"I was." I nodded.
"Then one day after a particularly long week, there was an inspection on our base. We were prepared for it, just not for the inspector. He tried inviting me to his room on the base and when I said no, he tried forcing me. That didn't end well for him. I got him to back off, but Sebastian snapped when he found out what happened. He almost killed the inspector and we both got dishonourably discharged." John gave me a sympathetic look and I resisted rolling my eyes.
"We moved back to London, at that point our parents were dead, so we had no one to stay with. We found a small flat and did anything we could to make enough money to survive and pay the rent."
"Let me guess, you turned to crime?" Sherlock asked sarcastically, but there was a curious look on his face.
"Not straight away. I'm not really sure when it started, but Seb got a job working as a security guard for some criminal organisation. Before I knew it, we were both working there and it was grim, but good money. Then, someone anonymously hired us. They called and gave us a job, they even sent half the payment before we accepted, just to show they were serious. We did the job. The anonymous man paid us for a few more jobs and we didn't have to work for the criminal organisation anymore. Then he sent us an address, so we could meet properly. It was Moriarty. I had heard whispers about him, the most dangerous man in the world and I was right to believe rumour I had heard."
"You worked for Moriarty? James Moriarty?" John asked in disbelief.
"And you didn't think that was important information to pass on?" Sherlock shushed him and looked at me, expecting me to continue.
"You knew?!"
"Yes, I worked for Moriarty. We both did, but it wasn't like any of the jobs we had done before. Jim... he befriended us. The three of us lived together, we became dependent on him. He made us dependent on him and we didn't try to stop him because for once, someone else cared." I looked down at the bedsheets, not liking the next part of the story.
"Sebastian got himself killed on a job. I was heartbroken. If it wasn't for Jim... we got close. Closer than I had ever let myself get with anyone, but it couldn't last. I loved him, but he became obsessed with his work."
"With me." Sherlock muttered and I nodded my head.
"It was terrifying. I tried to get him to stop, but I knew it was useless, so I left him. I thought that would knock some sense into him. A week later, I tried to confront him again, but then I heard the news that he had killed himself. Blown his own brains out on the roof of Bart's." I muttered dryly.
"I've done bad things, nothing is going to change that, but I was tired of being the bad guy. I took to stopping everything for him. Dismantling the network, breaking ties. You and your brother just... helped."
"So what? You were kidnapped by his old friends? As what? Revenge?" John asked and I shook my head
"He's not dead." I choked out.
"You faked your death he faked his."
"The call on the day of the wedding... that was him, wasn't it?" Sherlock asked carefully, but I could see the anger in his eyes.
"He told me that if I didn't meet him, he was going to your wedding." I looked at John, my cheeks damp from the tears.
"It wasn't even a choice. I had to go to him. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologise. I don't want to say you made the right choice, but you probably saved lives by risking your own." John shook his head.
"We'll leave you to get some rest." He put his hand over mine, before giving it a soft squeeze.
"Sherlock?"
"I'll be out in a minute." The detective mumbled and John left the room.
"You lied."
"What choice did I have?" I asked him.
"Was I suppose to introduce myself as Y/N Moran? Ex girlfriend the psychopath that almost killed you and John on several occasions? The man that made you fake your death for 2 years?"
"No. I don't care about that. You said you loved him. You were terrified of him, you still are." Sherlock looked at me and I sighed.
"Of course I'm terrified of him, he's insane. But you can love someone and fear them too." I muttered.
"He'd hurt me just because he was bored and he could. It made him feel powerful. Then he'd help fix me up and apologise and I made myself believe it was okay."
"You're smarter than that." Sherlock shook his head.
"I know, but he was the only family I had left and I was scared to let him go." I smiled sadly.
"You have a new family now." Sherlock muttered, sitting next to me on the edge of the bed.
"John and Mary, Mrs. Hudson, even Lestrade has become quite fond of you."
"Really?" I asked with a small smile.
"What about you?"
"Me?" He looked at me and I nodded.
"Baker Street isn't the same without you. It's quiet without John there, but the silence is almost deafening without you."
"I'll be back before you know it. If you still want me?" His lips curled up into a small smile.
"Good. Try and rest, Y/N."
