It took a couple of days to get to Heilbronn. Sherlock and Y/N stayed close together, on and off the horse. The practically couldn't take their hands off of one other. They tried to keep it together as best they could with the group they were with. They knew though that one moment alone, both sets of clothes would be off.
They reached Heilbronn in the cloudy night. Simza and her group agreed to stay behind with the horses while Y/N, Sherlock, and John snuck in.
"We'll slip in through the loading bay," Y/N said, having been to this place before on an errand for Moriarty.
"We'll find out what he's doing and then we get out," John added.
"Getting out might be tricky," Sherlock expressed.
"We will get you out," Simza said. "If my brother's in there, get him out alive."
"Of course," Y/N responded.
Sherlock and John gave Simza a nod before the trio began heading towards the factory. Sherlock slipped his rough fingers through Y/N's, feeling the need to keep her close by. When they got closer to the factory, they noticed that there were many soldiers guarding the place. Sherlock kept his grip on Y/N's hand as they snuck around. They got pretty far into the property before they had to hide from a long train of soldiers. They waited with their guns ready until they soldiers disappeared.
"Are you happy?" Sherlock turned to John and asked.
"What?" John questioned. Y/N was confused as well.
"At this moment, are you as happy as you would be on your honeymoon in Brighton?"
"You can't be serious Sherlock," Y/N responded.
"I'm not going to grace that question with an answer," John replied.
"Are you happy?" Sherlock repeated.
"Are we here for another reason? I think we are."
"Okay."
"Shall we get on with—"
"It's a simple question."
"Are we gonna do something, or wait here for them to come back round?"
"What time is it?"
John checked his pocket watch. "3:15."
"Over there in the residential part of the complex should be a telegraph office. Send this to Mycroft." Sherlock handed John a note. "Be back here on the hour."
John swiftly took his leave. Sherlock hastily grabbed Y/N by the waist and kissed her. He kissed her hard and passionately until they were both completely out of breath. He pulled away and she held onto his shoulders to keep her knees from buckling.
"You need to stay here," Sherlock said. "Wait for John."
"No," she shook her head. "I'm coming with you. I know this complex. I've been here before. I—"
"I will not put you in more harms way than I already have."
"Sherlock—"
"I will not. You must stay here, give this to Watson when he arrives back." He pulled out more folded up papers from his pocket and stuff them in Y/N's hand. "My dear..." His hands came up to hold her face, ever so gently for such roughness. "I... you... I feel... I cannot lose you."
"I cannot lose you either. Please let me come with you."
Sherlock shook his head. "No." He kissed her once more. "Stay here." He let go of her and backed away. "Please." Then he was gone.
Y/N took a deep breath and looked down at the notes in her hands. She stuffed them in a crevice near her and went the opposite direction. If Moriarty was here, Y/N needed to find him before Sherlock did. And, hopefully, end him. She slipped into one of the large storage rooms full of guns. Y/N stuffed multiple guns into her clothing before exiting out of the room. She kept one gun in her hand, ready to shoot the next person who she came across.
Creeping slowly around every corner, Y/N made her way to where she knew Moriarty would be. When she got to the room, she could hear him in there and she was pretty sure he was alone. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her.
"Your breaths have never been quiet," Moriarty stated. "It's always been one of your biggest flaws."
"Well," Y/N began, turning the corner with her gun up, "I can surely say that I got it from you."
Moriarty was standing in the center of the room, smirking at Y/N. "You got many things from me, daughter. That was not one of them." He looked behind Y/N briefly. "Where's Holmes? I was led to believe that the two of you hated leaving each other's sides."
"I honestly have no clue. I ignored his want for me to stay put to find you first."
"And what was your plan, daughter-dearest?" Moriarty took a step towards Y/N. "You weren't going to kill me, where you?" Y/N swallowed. "You had a chance to do it before and you failed, what makes you so sure you'd be able to go through with it this time?"
"I'm a lot stronger than I was."
"Yes, but still as scared of me." He motioned to Y/N's hands. "You're failing to hide the tremble in your hands." Y/N clenched her jaw. "Just as you've failed to notice the men behind you." Y/N's eyes widened. "Knock her out and tie her down."
Y/N's world was black before she even had a chance to fight.
~~~
During Y/N's failed attempt to murder her father, Sherlock had been ambushed by Sebastian and two of Moriarty's other lackeys. He was knocked out and brought to the same room that Y/N was already in. Sherlock was woken up by one of the lackeys waving a drink under his nose.
"This is schnapps," the lackey said. Sherlock grabbed the glass and drank the liquid.
"A telegram was sent from here," Moriarty stated from the table he was sitting at.
"This isn't schnapps," Sherlock deduced. "It's aquavit, distilled from potato mash." The lackey turned the medical chair Sherlock was in around to face Moriarty. "A common misconception. Thank you, by the way."
"Who was it sent to?"
"My horror at your crimes is matched only by my admiration at the skill it took to achieve them."
"Who was it sent to?"
"You used the anarchists and their bombs to create a crisis in Europe, nation against nation. Under various pseudonyms, you bought, schemed, or murdered your way into numerous industries, assuring that none of it could be traced to you. Cotton, opium, steel, now arms and chemical weaponry. All to be shipped across Europe in less than a week. Everything from bullets to bandages. Now that you own the supply, you intend to create the demand... a world war."
Moriarty tapped his pen against the stack of papers on the table before standing up. "You are familiar with Schubert's work. 'The Trout' is perhaps my favorite. A fisherman grows weary of trying to catch an elusive fish. So he muddies the water... confuses the fish. It doesn't realize until too late that it has swum into a trap."
Moriarty walked over to the chair that matched Sherlock's near the detective. Sherlock had failed to notice the chair near him. He looked over as Moriarty spun the chair around. His heart broke and eyes grew wide at the sight of Y/N tied tightly to the chair. She had a gag in her mouth, clearly too tight. She was awake, her eyes and cheeks stained with tears.
"Y/N!" Sherlock exclaimed, moving to get to her.
Sherlock didn't get anywhere before a man came up from behind and shoved a giant hook, on a rope tied to the ceiling, into Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock grunted in pain as Y/N let out a muffled screamed, trying, and failing, to thrash around in her restraints. The rope pulled Sherlock out of the chair and into the air. The tears were now freely flowing from Y/N's eyes, and she didn't care. Sherlock grunted, trying to mask the pain he was feeling. He didn't want to give Moriarty the satisfaction. But he really didn't want to freak Y/N out anymore than she already was.
Moriarty turned on Schubert's 'Die Forelle' on the record player he had in the room. He turned on the mic that was wired to the speakers around the complex and faced it towards the record player. Y/N tried to scream Sherlock's name as he hung in the air, breathing heavily. His grip was on the hook and rope, trying to ease the pain. Moriarty began singing the lyrics as he watching Y/N and Sherlock struggle behind him from the mirror he was standing in front of.
He sung as he turned around and spun Sherlock around. Sherlock let out screams with each rough hit. Y/N's heart broke further with each cry of pain Sherlock was going through. Moriarty swung Sherlock around through the whole song. He finally signaled for Sherlock to be dropped with the record was done playing. Sherlock laid on the ground as he held onto the hook.
"Who was the telegram sent to?" Moriarty asked again, heading towards Y/N.
Sherlock didn't answer as he panted through the pain. Moriarty smirked as he lifted his hand and hit Y/N across the face.
"No!" Sherlock grunted, turning to lie on his back. "Don't!"
"Then let's try this again, shall we? To whom did you send the telegram?"
"To my..."
Sherlock was losing consciousness due to the pain. His eyes fluttered close. Moriarty rolled his eyes, reached down and pushed the hook further into Sherlock's shoulder. Y/N let out another muffled cry. Sherlock gasped for air as Moriarty put his face close to Sherlock's.
"To my brother, Mycroft," Sherlock whispered.
"I've just got one more question for you," Moriarty said, sitting up. "Which one of us is the fisherman, and which the trout?"
A blast went off outside the building. From where Sherlock was on the ground, he could see that the lighthouse beside the building was going to fall into the building. He rolled over to protect his shoulder.
"Y/N!" He shouted, unable to move to get to her.
Bricks and glass rained down on them as the lighthouse broke through the building. Y/N's chair fell over, shielding her from some of it. John, having been the one to shot down the lighthouse, ran into the destruction.
"Holmes?" He called out. "Y/N?" He paused as he heard Sherlock groan. "Holmes?"
"Take your time, Watson," Sherlock replied. "Take your time."
John rushed over and dug Sherlock out. Sherlock was clearly exhausted. John turned Sherlock over and ripped out the hook, putting pressure on it with one hand as his other held Sherlock up.
"Always good to see you, Watson," Sherlock rasped.
"Where's Y/N?" John asked.
"Y/N! Help me up John! Up, up!" John did was he was told and kept Sherlock at his side for needed support. "Over there. She was over there."
They hurried to where Sherlock and motioned to. John let go of Sherlock so that he could uncover Y/N. She was still tied to the chair and gagged. Her eyes were clenched shut and she was crying when they found her. John reached out to begin untying Y/N but she flinched as her eyes snapped open in fear.
"It's just me," John held his hands up. "I'm just going to untie you, alright?" Y/N nodded. She found Sherlock and cried out.
"Sssshhh, darling," Sherlock cooed, crawling over. He placed a hand on her cheek once John and freed her mouth. "I'm okay, you're okay... we're going to be okay."
Y/N couldn't get herself to speak. Instead, once she was completely freed, she launched herself at Sherlock and grasped onto him. He wrapped his mobile arm around her, keeping her as close to him as possible. His lips found his head and he held a kiss there.
"We've got to go," John said.
"Right," Sherlock agreed. He pulled away, keeping his arm around her. "You're safe now. We're going to get out of this."
Y/N nodded, keeping silent as she was still too rattled. John got on the other side of Sherlock to help keep him up and the three headed off.
"What were you thinking?" John asked. "Both of you."
"Wait," Sherlock requested, falling onto his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Y/N knelt down beside him, trying to keep him up right.
"Wait?" John threw off a tarp, revealing guns. He quickly began strapping them onto himself.
"Well, if you must know, I was thinking I had him right where I wanted him." John handed Y/N and Sherlock their own, smaller, guns as Y/N helped Sherlock stand back up.
"Right. Crack on then."
John sprinted away. Sherlock went to follow but was stopped by Y/N. He went to express his confusion but couldn't because her lips were on his before the words could leave his tough.
"I love you," she gasped once they parted. "I love you, Sherlock Holmes. And you don't have to say it back but I—"
Sherlock took his turn to cut Y/N off, bringing her into another kiss.
"My darling," he rasped, his breath fanning over her lips. "I love you as well." He pecked her lips quickly. "But we must go."
Y/N nodded and the two hurried to catch up with John. Once they caught up, they burst through a set of doors and caught a glimpse of Simza waiting. Sherlock whistled, signaling to Simza that they were all there way and others were following. Simza ran off as John, Sherlock, and Y/N held up their guns, ready to fire at a moments notice. John and Y/N were both facing one direction, with Sherlock in the middle facing another.
"Turn in three, two, one," Sherlock counted down.
They turned and John and Y/N began firing at the men following them. When they got to where one of their gypsy mates were, John stayed in the open, shooting while Sherlock and Y/N hurried away.
"Come on, hurry up!" Simza called.
They followed Simza out, still ducking and shooting at the soldiers after them.
"Did you see my brother?" Simza wondered.
"No," Sherlock answered, "but I'm certain he's been here."
"Where are we going?" John asked.
"Over that wall," Simza replied.
"Holmes, how did you know I'd find you?"
"You didn't find me," Sherlock responded. "You collapsed a building on myself and Y/N."
One of the gypsies got shot down behind them and John, Y/N, and Sherlock spun around and took the two men out. The three eyed each other after both men were killed, at the oddness of the situation. They were twins, yet they didn't care for each other when one went down. They quickly shook it off and followed the gypsies to the wall. One of them was at the top of the other side and threw a rope over. At the same time, they began getting shot at and hand to run for cover.
"Are you okay, my dear?" Sherlock asked.
Sherlock was worried for her physical and mental state. She had barely spoken since the whole ordeal. She nodded quickly before turning slightly to shoot over the crate they were hiding behind. As machine guns began tearing apart what they were hiding behind, Sherlock and Y/N tried to protect each other. Suddenly, a larger blast was shot off and a hole formed in the brick wall in front of them. The group took that opportunity and made a run for it. They ran through the woods as fast as they could, knowing that they were being followed.
"Where are the horses?" John asked as they ran.
"They're behind!" Simza responded.
"We need them!"
"You wanna go back?"
"What's our way out?" Sherlock wondered, checking to make sure Y/N was still beside him.
"That's our way out!" Simza pointed to the oncoming train.
The soldiers were catching up and began shooting at them. They ducked trying to avoid bullets and pieces of breaking trees as they ran. The soldiers soon began launching large projectiles. Sherlock reached out and took hold of one of Y/N's hands with his free one just before a large blast happened right behind them, launching them forward and onto the ground.
"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked Y/N as he looked over her to see if there was in major damage.
"Yes," she answered with a nod.
The group pushed themselves up just as the soldiers arrived. They began hand to hand combat and shooting at them. Large projectiles were still being fired at the group as they fought off the soldiers. Sherlock grabbed Y/N's hand again when he heard the train whistle. They all rushed to the train. Tamas torn open one of the car doors and jumped in. He turned around, helping Y/N in, then Sherlock, John, and Simza. The last gypsy, Marco, was shot down. Tamas cried out his friends name as Y/N looked to find where the bullet came from. She clenched her jaw as she met Sebastian's gaze. He went to aim for her but Sherlock quickly shut the train car's doors.