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"The devil's agents may be of flesh and blood, may they not?"
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
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GALINA WAS CHEERFULLY BRUSHING AWAY THE FLOUR off Mr. Chatterjee's cheeks when the loud clanging of bells halted her delicate fingers.
Speedy's, for whatever reason, had been dreadfully vacant for the majority of the day. Since working there, Galina had noticed that not many people visited the tiny cafe, but there were a few regulars who made sure to come in at least once a week.
The weather outside was dreadful with thick grey clouds and ominous thunder, so she figured that was the reason why she and Mr. Chatterjee had the day to themselves.
She smiled widely at the sound of the door pushing open and twirled around to greet the newcomer.
That is until she realized who the newcomer was.
"Mycroft," Galina said, brushing her hands against apron as she walked around the counter. "Что ты здесь делаешь (what are you doing here)?"
Mycroft smiled tenderly at her but sneered when he lifted his hand to see a sliver of dust coating his fingers. With a scowl, he promptly retrieved his handkerchief and wiped away the dirt, making sure to do the same to his seat as he sat down at the counter. The poor Mr. Chatterjee noticed all of that, and with resounding disdain, excused himself to the back storage room.
Galina pouted as he walked away and she turned to Mycroft with pursed lips and her hands planted on her hips.
"That was not very nice," Galina said, heading back around the counter to put some sort of physical barrier between her and Mycroft. She was in a particularly good mood and refused to have it soured by the urge to beat him with his own cane.
"Малыш (little one)," Mycroft said affectionately, wiping down the counter before clasping his hands atop it. "I came here because I supposed an apology was in order."
Galina rolled her bottom lip into her mouth and looked down in aloofness. "Well, is there an apology coming?"
Mycroft frowned and seemed to use all his will power to speak. Clearing his throat, he sat up straighter and seemed to roll his neck awkwardly from side to side as he adjusted his tie.
"I am..." he coughed, wrinkling his forehead in forced concentration and intense pain "...sorry."
Galina's head snapped up with a wide smile.
Galina Ivanov- of course- was an empath so she had already sensed how remorseful Mycroft was the second he stepped foot into Speedy's. His aura was dripping with the pungent smell of anxiety and she had felt her heart begin to rapidly beat as soon as he sat down.
She could have saved Mycroft the trouble of verbally apologizing- which truly did seem to have cost him some amount of physical pain- but Galina would not let him off that easy.
She had brought up a facade of bitterness and reproach even though her mind had already settled on forgiving him. She wanted to hear him apologize. She wanted him to realize how much power his words had on not only her but also his brother.
She was well aware that Mycroft Holmes was not likely to ever change, but she needed him to understand that his authoritative part he had played in her life was over. He had the feelings of an apologetic man and had said the actual words, but she knew that deep within him he didn't believe it was necessary.
"You know me," she said, allowing herself to beam and him as she put her hand over his. "I can not stay cross for long. I appreciate your apology, even though I know you do not mean it."
Mycroft let out a series of snickers because- like always- she was correct. "All your life all I ever wanted was for you to be safe," he explained, sincerely and with no signs of outward amusement. "I guess I simply forgot that happiness should also be added to that equation."
"It does and your brother makes me happy, Mycroft," Galina whispered, smiling widely as Mycroft furrowed his eyebrows until he came up with the most logical conclusion for the look on her face.
"Oh dear lord," he sighed, wrinkling his lips in disgust as he pulled his hand away from hers.
Galina let out a melodic laugh and rolled her eyes as she yanked his hand back. "Let us all have dinner tonight? Like a family?"
"Family dinner?" he scoffed, shaking his head at her. "Sherlock and I aren't too partial to that."
"I insist," Galina said. "It will be you, Sherlock, John, and I." Her eyes lit up as another member popped into her head. "Oh, I will even tell him to bring Rosie!"
Mycroft looked as if he had been slapped. "You know my distaste for children."
"I was a child when you took me in."
"An exception, my dear. You were exceptional."
Galina blushed as she brought their joined hands to her chin and tipped her head to the side. "Пожалуйста (Please)?"
Mycroft's face visibly softened and he brushed his thumb across her chin as he rolled his eyes. "I hardly doubt my brother would agree to that."
"You do not have to worry because I will make him," she insisted, loving the way the vein in his neck twitched with the notion of how she would accomplish that. "Just promise me that you will be somewhat decent."
"Ugh," Mycroft groaned, nodding his head. "It is rather difficult to say no to you."
Galina chuckled. "I know. Not many people can."
Mycroft brought his hand back and grabbed his cane, standing up to leave before he realized there was just one thing he wanted her to know.
One thing that he didn't say often and that he felt he needed to express to her.
"Малыш (little one)," he said, pausing but not turning to look at her. "You are...precious to me. You do know that?"
Galina bit her bottom lip as she took in all of Mycroft's loving emotions. Even with his back turned and his body rigid, she could feel it all.
Admiration, pride, care, and- most of all- love.
A love that he would more than likely never express, of course.
"Of course. You do not ever have to say it again if you wish. I know, Папа (papa)."
Mycroft felt as if someone had pushed him off a cliff, free falling but instead of crashing to the ground, he had landed on a warm and iridescent cloud.
She had never called him her father before.
If he had ever doubted the way he cherished Galina like his own child, he would never again.
Mycroft, however, didn't reply and merely nodded his head. His back was still turned to her as he made his way out of Speedy's.
Galina rolled her eyes.
The Holmes men were incredibly lousy when it came to displaying their affection and appreciation.
However, she did not mind.
For she would always be able to tell.
"Oh, Mr. Chatterjee!" Galina called, twirling around and heading toward the storage room. "The scary man is gone! Let us continue with our koroleyskiy! It sours if left out too long! Oh Mr. Chatterjee, please come out from behind the cabinets!"
♖
It took a bit of coaxing and emotional manipulation to make Mr. Chatterjee comfortable enough to come out of his hiding spot, but Galina had finally managed to bring him out and finish their task of creating the perfect koroleyskiy.
Thankfully a few customers had stopped by before the night had fallen and enjoyed Galina's cake, insisting that they were to come by tomorrow and purchase several orders. Galina had written them all down with delight and Mr. Chatterjee was positively brimming with excitement at the prospect of more income because of his tiny Russian employee.
It was a few minutes before closing and Galina was humming to herself as she turned off the coffee maker and she couldn't help but notice that Mr. Chatterjee was particularly anxious. Her back turned to him, she closed her eyes and zeroed in on it a bit more until she figured out why.
"Hot date tonight, Mr. Chatterjee?" Galina teased, turning around and bumping him with her shoulder as his cheeks immediately flushed.
"Well, yes, actually. Lovely woman, really. I'm supposed to meet her after closing, and I suppose I'm rather nervous." He didn't bother denying it, realizing in the last few weeks that Galina was exceedingly observant. "Oh, Galina. You always just seem to know."
Galina winked at him and then shrugged her shoulders. "What can I say? It is a gift."
That was an understatement.
"Why do I not finish closing down the shop?" she offered, her delicate hands already moving to take off his apron.
"Are you sure?" Mr. Chatterjee asked although the twinkle of hope in his eyes betrayed his intentions and his hands helped hers along as he tossed his apron on the counter. "Aren't you supposed to host a family dinner tonight?"
Galina waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, the boys can wait for a few more minutes and I am sure Mrs. Hudson does not like to be kept waiting."
"H-how did you..." he paused and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Of course you know. You always know."
"Go," she insisted, waving him around the counter and brushing crumbs off his shoulders. "I still have your spare keys and I am more than capable of finishing up on my own. I insist."
Mr. Chatterjee bounced with excitement and flashed her his slightly-yellowed teeth. "Thank you! I will find some way to thank you for this tomorrow!"
Galina merely shrugged her shoulders yet again and wished him luck as he exited the cafe, knowing full well that he would not even stop to change before entering 221A Baker Street.
He was simply too excited.
Galina continued working to finish up the closing process. She made sure to take all the cash out of the register, count it, and lock it up in the safe located in the back room which she would drop off tomorrow at the bank.
She hand-cleaned all of the silverware and utensils, making sure to eliminate any lingering soap marks from the cups, and went about sweeping the floors.
When she heard the bells ring, she let out a deep sigh. She had told Mr. Chatterjee that she could spare a few more minutes, but she simply could not spare anymore to attend to a customer at such a late hour, specifically a customer who so rudely ignored the closed sign.
"I am sorry but we are closed for the night," she said, hoping that with her back turned the person would get the message and promptly leave, but the second they step foot in the cafe, the hairs on the back of her neck shot up.
She didn't even need to turn around to know that something incredibly terrible was about to happen and she held her breath as a sudden rush of familiar sensations rammed into her.
Hate.
Objectification.
Brutality.
Power-hungry.
Remorseless.
"Oksana."
It was a name that had once belong to her in a faraway time. A name that no longer held any meaning besides everything that had been taken away from her and everything that had been done to her.
It was the name that- besides Mycroft- only one other person knew.
Galina's flight or fight response kicked in immediately. All her years of training had taught her that the best strategy for surviving a fight was always to flee, especially from them.
In an instant, Galina had kicked off her shoes and went running to the back door until another man popped out from the exit and quickly grabbed her waist.
She writhed in the man's hands and felt all the color drain from her face when she looked up.
"Alexei," she gasped, mortified as the blonde Russian stared down at her with a cruel smirk.
Alexei was the one who most frequented her blood-curdling nightmares. He was the one that had been tasked with the brutal physical and emotional torture she and the other children had endured. In those nightmares, his bright blue eyes always sent chills running down her spine and set her teeth rattling.
"Oksana..." he sang, clutching her waist so tightly it was sure to leave bruises on her pale skin. "Вы ведь не думали, что вам удастся сбежать, не так ли?"
You did not think you would get away, did you?
She turned her head quickly to see that two more men had entered the cafe and were surrounding her like sharks after blood.
She gulped audibly as she realized what had to happen next.
Alexei's hand clamped around her throat painfully.
At an early age, I was told that it was the survival of the fittest; fight or die.
One of the men revealed a baton.
I am not dying tonight.
Another man cocked his gun.
I hate it but I know what I had to do.
The other man pulled down the window blinds.
Fight to kill.
So quickly that it was barely registered by any of the men, Galina sunk her teeth into Alexei's hand and that jolt of surprise caused him to let go of the tight grip he had on her. Before he could recover, and before any of the men could reach her, she grabbed a tray from the counter and slammed it into his face. She heard a crack and felt a sharp sting of pain shoot up her face.
Galina Ivanov had definitely just broken his nose.
Still, Alexei was resilient and moved to stand, but Galina ensured herself that he would not be able to again as she brought the tray down onto his knee, breaking it.
One of the men went to reach for her, but Galina intercepted it as she tore off her apron and wrapped it around his arm, twisting it in a way that made the gun drop to the ground. She pulled him into her body as she slammed her head against his.
Galina cried and touched her forehead. If there was ever going to be one lesson she wanted to impart on anyone who would listen it would be; never headbutt anyone.
She cursed herself but regained her focus as another man attempted to grab her, she kicked him away just in time for the man she headbutted to recover. She turned around and wrapped her apron around his neck. She hopped over the counter and threw herself on the ground, using her feet to ground her as she pulled with all her strength until the man ceased moving- permanently.
Her hands shot to her throat as she felt oxygen leave her and it took her a moment to remember that althought the man would no longer ever breathe again, she could.
Before she could scramble to her feet, another man jumped over the counter and proceeded to deliver a swift kick to her cheek, causing blood to shoot out of her mouth and blinding her senses. He raised his baton and began to mercilessly beat her. He came down hard on her stomach, her chest, her legs- anywhere that would weaken her.
She felt every blow with tremendous agony but reminded herself of what one of her captors had once told her.
Pain is nothing but an illusion.
She gathered up enough resolve to shoot he hand up and grab the baton mid-air and pull the man down to the ground. They began to wrestle as he tried to reach for his baton but she kicked it further away from them. He grabbed her feet to stop her wild kicking but that was a mistake on his part.
Immediately he brought her legs to his chest in an attempt to drag her away but she wrapped them around his neck, and instead, squeezed them together tightly before spinning her body around. She let out an agonizing cry when she heard the snap of his neck and his body fell lip beside her.
She howled and clutched at her own neck, feeling each and every fiber of his existence fading within her. It was a torturous feeling, one that she had hoped she would never have to feel again.
She did not know where the other man was, the last one standing, but she could not seem to care. She began to crawl on the ground, fully feeling the impact of all the blows she had received, and reached for the baton with trembling hands.
Just as her fingers barely grazed the handle, a strong foot came crashing down and stomped her wrist.
"Блядь (Fuck)!" she yelled, trying to wriggle her hand from under the merciless boot. She could feel her vision cloud as she looked up at the man who had thoroughly broken her wrist.
"Oksana," he said wickedly, tipping his head to the side as his blue eyes twinkled with delight. "Так приятно снова тебя видеть (It is so good to see you again)."
Galina could feel tears fall from her cheeks as she finally acknowledged the man who had first stepped into the cafe.
The man who had stayed silent in the background as the others tried to take her by force.
The man that never had to haunt her nightmares because he was always present in the back of her mind- inescapable.
His curly red hair had grown past his shoulders and his chin and cheeks were covered by a bushy beard. H still had the jagged scar on his cheek that she had given him when she was only eleven-years-old after he had ordered his men to take all her future dreams from her.
"Vladimir," she choked out, shaking her head in disbelief as stars danced across her eyes. "Я молился, чтобы никогда больше не увидеть тебя (I prayed I would never see you again)."
"Wait for what I have planned for you," he laughed, his accent rough and choppy as he snickered. "So much fun."
That was the last thing she registered as he brought his foot down on her cheek, drowning her in darkness.
♖
Sherlock, Mycroft, John, and a babbling Rosie were all seated at the kitchen table, awkwardly exchanging glances at one another as the room remained completely silent.
They had been promised dinner, but the wily redhead was nowhere to be found. John was a bit uncomfortable watching the two bickering Holmes brothers stare at each other menacingly, only in the moments were Mycroft wasn't making disgusted faces when Rosie spit-up.
"Um, did she say when she was coming?" John asked, clearing his throat as his precious child let out a burp and Mycroft let out a groan.
Sherlock looked down at his watch. "By my calculations, she should have arrived twenty-two minutes and forty-two seconds ago."
Sherlock appeared to everyone at the table as the calmest man in the greater London area, but inside his ever-churning mind held a different story.
He had resigned himself to spending the afternoon reading countless books, none of which satisfied him the way Galina's presence always did. He has spent the last few hours before his unwelcomed guests' arrival laying on the couch with his joined hands pressed against his chin, recounting every single salacious detail of the night before. He hoped that it would at least placate some of his longing for her and her companionship.
Sherlock Holmes was not usually a man that concerned himself with the actions of other people but that damn Russian had gone and done it. She had tapped into the part of him that worried for her and craved reassurance regarding her well-being.
He was filled with immense worry that would not go away until he could hear her hypnotizing laughter, feel her lips against his cheek, and watch her dazzling smile.
His mind could not and would not rest until she was safely tucked in his arms, annoyingly sitting on his chair, and blabbering about Mr. Chatterjee and her koroleyskiy
"Alright, well, I'm going downstairs," Sherlock stated, rising from his seat quickly and working his way around the table. "I'm sure Mr. Chatterjee is almost finished with his activities with Mrs. Hudson."
"Mate," John sighed, shaking his head as he joined him. "I've heard too much about other people's sex life today. Let's just go see what's holding her up."
Mycroft cleared his throat as he too stood up. "Is it wise to leave the child alone?"
"Don't pretend you care," John quipped curtly, however, he stopped short as he picked up Rosie and took her with them as they descended down the stairs.
Just like clockwork- thanks to Sherlock's precise mind- Mr. Chaterjee came stumbling out of apartment 221A attempting to straighten out his shirt with lipstick stains on his neck.
"Where is Galina?" Sherlock questioned immediately, not bothering with polite social conventions as Mr. Chatterjee looked up in surprise.
"Galina?" he repeated, almost as if straining his mind to catch up, rubbing away the bright pink lipstick on his neck. "Oh, yeah, what a sweetheart. I'm sorry, she said she would close up the shop for me. See, I ugh-"
"No need to continue," Sherlock said, holding his hand out. "I know far more than you know and I simply want the keys to the shop."
Mr. Chatterjee stared blankly at him.
Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Please."
Mr. Chatterjee quickly pulled out his keys and dropped them in Sherlock's hand. He went to say something else but Sherlock had already turned around and marched out the front door.
Sherlock had relaxed a bit, knowing that Galina must have simply taken too long finishing up her duties, but he couldn't fight the overwhelming urge to just have her in his sight.
Just from looking at the outside, Sherlock didn't recognize any sign of malicious activity, but when he unlocked the door it was an entirely different story.
John let out a gasp and covered Rosie's eyes as Sherlock briefly registered the faint clank of Mycroft's cane slipping from his fingers.
Sherlock managed to tune out John's stuttering and Mycroft's furious barking into the phone as his mind went into overdrive.
He stalked forward to examine the dead man in front of him.
All black clothing.
He picked up his hand.
No traces of fingerprints which equals illicit activities.
Litigation marks on his neck.
Discarded apron on the counter.
A subconjunctival hemorrhage in his eyes.
Died from strangulation.
He stood up and looked over the counter to find yet another dead man and he walked around and kneeled down next to the body.
Bloody nose, more than likely kicked in the face.
The neck has been snapped; a severe show of strength.
Dressed similarly to the other man.
An organization.
He looked beside him to see drops of blood splattered on the floor.
Not a large quantity meaning not too much damage.
The blood pattern indicates sudden splatter.
The blood more than likely originated by a blow to the mouth.
He went around the counter once more to find a great quantity of blood.
By the odds of probability, this blood does not come from the same person.
Discarded tray on the floor indicates an injury to the nose is responsible and that would account for the quantity.
Then, he finally saw Galina's shoes lying in two different spots on the floor.
A sign that she attempted to run.
He could see it all playing out in real-time. Everything pieced together in his mind as he tried to recreate the scene.
Sherlock Holmes convinced himself that no other person in all the universe had ever felt the tremendous amount of rage that was currently boiling within him.
He felt like a volcano ready to erupt, an icy lake ready to crack, a dog ready to strike; he felt like the most dangerous man in London.
He turned around calmly and looked at the two silently stunned men standing in front of him and he finally realized why he always said that love was a dangerous disadvantage.
"She's been taken."
―A/N―
Okay, I will start this A/N the same way I start everyone after a chapter like this; I AM SO SORRY BECAUSE ACTION SCENES ARE NOT MY FORTE.
Putting that aside, I hope y'all liked this! Sadly, things were just going a little two well of Sherlock Holmes and Galina Ivanov and we all know that life rarely works in our favors like that.
So, now that Sherlock's had a taste of wonderful sentiment, how do we think he's going to react to this news after the shock wears off?
Again, I hope you all enjoyed this and I can't wait to hear what you think!
I'll see y'all Wednesday!
Until then & eternally grateful,
Bella.