Sherlock practically rolled his eyes as his brother spoke, staring out the small window of the private jet. "I've only been gone four minutes," he stated.

Mycroft leaned back into the plush leather seat, a pleasant smile gracing his features. "Well, I certainly hope you've learned your lesson. As it turns out, you're needed."

It had taken the pilot less than 5 minutes to land the plane and open the door for the impatient younger Holmes brother. John and Mary held sullen looks on their face as Sherlock practically skipped down the stairs, "Did you miss me?" He smirked, stopping a foot in front of them. Mary paled slightly at his words and glanced at her husband who held a tight smile on his face.

"Sherlock, time is off the essence," Mycroft stated, rolling his eyes at his younger brother's theatrics and thrust his phone in Sherlock's direction. The audio was loud and clear, Sherlock froze for a moment before confirming his deduction.

"It seems that I'm not the only one who faked their death," Sherlock muttered under his breath. "Raise the security level for John, Mary, Lestrade and Mrs Hudson immediately," he commanded.

"Already done brother mine, don't fret your-" Mycroft paused for a moment, "friends" he said with contempt, "will be safe,"

"Sherlock, what about Molly," Mary added softly, looking at him meaningfully.

Sherlock looked down at the pregnant woman and gave what he hoped would be a placating smile. "Molly Hooper is safe I assure you, she is at St. Bart's presently and Moriarty has no reason to assume her importance has increased since the last time he threatened everyone's lives."

"But it has though hasn't it?" John questioned his best friend, "She does matter to you, right?" He was unsure and somewhat concerned about the answer he would receive.

"Of course, in any case we shall go and visit her at St. Bart's to determine her security level, I will secure and ensure her safety myself if need be John," Sherlock stated hoping to please his best friend who nodded in response as the three got into the sleek black car. Staring out the tinted black window, Sherlock refused to think about the danger Molly Hooper would be in, the danger that was due to him. John and Mary needn't know how high Sherlock's concern was, they didn't have to know that Sherlock would revel in being her security, to finally repay her for everything she'd ever done for him.

Mycroft sat beside Anthea in the other vehicle and frowned, despite Moriarty's elusiveness he knew it would only be a matter of time before he resurfaced in person and he hoped that Sherlock was ready.

They saw the consulting detective before he got out the car. The taller man looked to his right almost frantically as he stopped shoving his captive in the back of the black cab. The shorter of the two smirked as he watched the sleek black car stop in front of the hospital. His eyes held a crazy glint as he motioned for Moran to get into the cab. "The trick is to hide in plain sight Moran," He sang as pulled away from the curb, setting his plan into motion.

When the car pulled up in front of St. Bart's Sherlock knew something was amiss. Flipping up the collar of his Belstaff he strode into the hospital, John and Mary trailing behind as he followed the all too familiar route to the mortuary. A frown was etched upon his features as he noticed the light was not on in the corridors ahead. Picking up speed in his stride he bolted forwards, almost running to reach the lab.

"Sherlock, hold up! Pregnant woman here," John called out to his best friend as he held his panting wife.

"Go on, I'll be fine John. He looks frantic, he needs you right now," Mary commented, pushing her husband to follow the detective. "I'll wait here," she said simply giving him a peck on the lips before sitting down slowly on a vacated plastic chair. John nodded and ran after Sherlock only coming to a halt as he reached the final corner. His heart stopped for a moment as he controlled his breathing and edged closer to the Lab. Sherlock was on his knees clutching a familiar lab coat which was stained in splatters of blood; John didn't need to be a detective to know that the blood was Dr Molly Hooper's.

When he finally reached the Lab he looked around at the chaos, experiments were overturned; glass vials and testing tubes were shattered strewn across the table tops and linoleum flooring. Small drops of blood were mixed with the shattered glass where he realised Molly had come into contact. He knew the signs of a struggle.

By the time John had looked around the room and then back at his best friend, Sherlock had composed himself, becoming the cold hard man everyone was used to. "Clear signs of a struggle, there were one; no two men in here but only one attacked Miss Hooper." John frowned at Sherlock's words. "But, oh wait. This is smart, so clever! It has him written all over it," Sherlock was bouncing around the room now, adrenaline coursing through his veins. His eye lit up in what John read as delight, "Made this difficult, and it's a game John." He finally faced his companion, but John wasn't smiling his face was drained of emotion and he stared up at Sherlock with cold hard eyes.

"Sorry, did you say game? Are you shitting me right now Sherlock?" His voice was controlled but the ferocity was evident. A foreign emotion crossed Sherlock's face at that moment; he was suddenly reminded of the previous occasions in which John had been so furious. "Molly is gone, she could be dead for all we know and you're prancing around like it's a game."

Sherlock span on his heel, staring out of the window his back to John. "I-" But his words were cut off by a gasp. John turned an inch realising his wife had finally made her way to the men. Her face was pale as she looked at the sight before her.

"Oh my… What… Where's Molly?" Mary's usual calm demeanour had altered greatly since the beginning of her pregnancy, her hormones ran wild constantly and at that moment she feared nothing more than the safety of her friend. She didn't let anyone answer before she glared at Sherlock accusingly. "You said she'd be safe! You said he wouldn't suspect her importance had changed! You didn't even give her a guard Sherlock!" Mary was furious, her words streaming out of her.

Sherlock stilled, before his eyes narrowed in on Mary, "You think I don't know that. You think I planned this?" He stepped forward menacingly, his own anger at his miscalculations fuelling his annoyance towards Mary. She stood her ground and John inched forwards putting a protective hand on Mary's forearm. Sherlock noticed the small gesture and paled, he felt sick, disgusted at himself before fleeing the room.

A few tears trickled down Mary's face as John pulled his wife into an embrace, "she'll be fine Mary, and he'll find her. I promise. He's just scared, he won't admit it but he is."

Days later Molly lay on the cold, hard ground her body soaked in tears, sweat and blood. She ached all over yet she knew the worst was still yet to come. He himself hadn't harmed her and she realised that whatever he would do would be the final blow. She hadn't moved since her last beating, her muscles were beginning to tense and stiffen up but she was scared to move. She just wanted it to be over. She wanted to be saved. She wanted him, she wanted Sherlock.

But her hope in him was fading, slowly ebbing away with each breath she took. He wasn't coming; if he was he would have been here by now. He would have found her already had she been John, Mary, Mrs Hudson or Greg. She winced as her brow furrowed in pain and let out a dry sob. She knew she never counted but it had taken this experience to realise how true that fact was.

The room lit up in blazing white light and Molly cowered away, using her battered left arm to shield her eyes. Footsteps echoed in the room, in a slow rhythmic pace accompanied by a low hum that became an octave higher every other step. The sounds from the man were in stark contrast to the shallow fearful breaths of Molly Hooper who was now clenching her eyes shut.

"Let me see those beautiful brown irises," he whispered in a sing song voice as he came to a halt by Molly's body. "Come on Molly, show me your lovely eyes," he coaxed; she did not relent making him furious. "I said, look at me!" He screamed, pulling her arm roughly away from her face.

She cried out as her arm hit the concrete ground and her eyes flew open in shock. His eyes gleamed in response, taking in the sight of her dilated pupils that shone with fear and helplessness. "Losing hope are we? But why? What happened to the pathologist I met 6 days ago? Where's she gone?" He taunted menacingly staring down at the broken pathologist. He knew his words would force her to think about her spiral into helplessness.

Molly gasped, freezing at the sight of the man before her. Her pulse quickened in fear and she could practically hear her heartbreak pumping in her ears. He smirked, taking a small but menacing step forward towards the pathologist. She opened her mouth to speak but was unable to get his name out of her mouth.

Before she could register what occurred he was in front of her, his hands clamped onto either side of her face, holding her still. "Did you think you could get away with it?" he whispered, staring into her eyes, his gaze piercing into her soul, anger seething from every pore of his body. Her eyes widened, her body paralysed with panic and fear. He was pleased with her reaction because her let his hands drop suddenly and moved back into the shadows.

"I must say, I was foolish to underestimate you," he admitted studying the fingernails on his left hand, not even looking at her.

Molly didn't say anything, instead gathered up what was left of her courage and took a step back into the lab. Whatever he was here for he wouldn't get, she'd make sure of it. Her mind flitted through the lab inventory and settled on anything that could be used as a weapon; a scalpel.

"Molly, my love stop trying to figure out a way to escape, especially when we're having such a lovely chat," he grinned, full set of teeth on display. His eyes glistened as she froze once again. "Mousy Molly, trying to escape the clutches of James Moriarty, how stupid."

"I'm not stupid," she managed to choke out in what she hoped was above a whisper.

"Oh, of course not. No you're more than that; you're helplessly in love with a man who wouldn't look twice at you. A man who sees you as part of the scenery: wallpaper. I could see it when I first read your pathetic little blog, you were always waiting – hoping – praying – that he would notice you, that maybe that extra bit of perfume or that darker shade of lipstick would attract his attention."

"It's not like that anymore," she whispered, shaking her head.

"It isn't?" He said in a daze, looking around the room mockingly.

"No, I matter to him. I do count."

"Oh Molly, sweet sweet delicate Molly," he chided. "Do you know where he is right this moment?" He asked rhetorically, his eyes darkened as he continued holding her gaze. "He's saying his goodbyes to John and Mary," Molly frowned, staring at Moriarty in sheer confusion. He mock gasped, putting his hand to his mouth. "Oh, did he forget to mention that he was being extradited? Did he forget to say goodbye to his mousy Molly?"

"No," she gasped in a disbelieving tone, "he would have said goodbye," she stated more forcefully shaking her head.

"No," he mocks her, copying her motion. "He would have said goodbye," his voice is frantic, yet jovial as he mocked her.

Molly felt the tears well up in her eyes, she could see the glaze at the bottom of her eye lids but she refused let him see her cry.

"Well, to be fair he's probably off the plane by now. Back to civility."

Molly squeezed her eyes shut, her hands clutched at either side of her small body.

"He's probably seen the message I broadcasted, Molly you'd love it, really."

She tried to block out his voice as she took another step back into the lab. A small chime sounded and she peered up to see Moriarty grinning at his phone.

"Oh, and he's asked for a security level increase for the following, 'John, Mary, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade' and would you look at that, no mention of Dr. Molly Hooper." He said jovially as his eyes danced with mirth at her obvious pain.

"Come along Molly, you'll be coming with me," he said abruptly as he motioned to the door.

"What? No!" She exclaimed, moving further back into the lab. She felt determined and her courage seemed to return despite her broken heart. Once again his eyes lit up as he smirked at Molly. He didn't make a move to coerce her and she took her chance.

Spinning on her heel she ran around the table only to come to a halt at the sight of a taller man with a bigger build. He smirked at her before looking to Moriarty for instruction. Moriarty winked at his accomplice as Molly grabbed the empty test tunes on the desk. She threw them at the man and attempted to escape during the distraction but he didn't even flinch as the tubes came crashing around him.

Molly Hooper was scared, more scared than she had been in her whole entire existence. The larger man grabbed her arm and pulled her into him, she writhed against his grip before she kneed him in his abdomen. He growled pushing her away from him as he clutched his stomach. She fell backwards in a heap on the shattered glass and felt the little pieces of glass pierce her skin. She gasped at the stinging pain, feeling woozy at the sight of her own warm blood. Still on the floor she backed away spreading blood across her lab coat.

Moran quickly recovered and stepped forwards menacingly, grabbing the top of her jumper to haul her up. He twisted her around, keeping his left arm firmly across her neck and her back against his chest. Moriarty grinned like the Cheshire cat as he clapped patronisingly. "Great escape attempt my dear," he watched her chest heave and body shake. "Make sure you leave the lab coat here," he said after a moment, staring at Moran. Molly felt him nod as his chin grazed her hair.

"He'll find you! Sherlock will find you," she sobbed, though neither of the two men listened.

Moran's grip loosened only slightly as he ripped off her lab coat unceremoniously and let it fall to the ground. Tears were flowing freely down Molly's face as she struggled against his strong, death like hold.

"Let me go!" She screamed, hoping anyone would hear her, she repeated this twice more before Moriarty lost his patience and she felt a stinging sensation across her cheek as he face was whipped sideways.

"Ta-ta for now!" Moriarty exclaimed with a flourish as the sharp sting of metal pierced her skin. Molly was frozen in horror and abject fear, trying to control the shaking that rocked her body as her eye sight and body failed her. Her mind and body started to become limp in Moran's arms and she could feel the darkness closing in on her. Before she could drown into unconsciousness her pleas were focused on one man. Sherlock Holmes.

She was suddenly pulled back into the present as a searing pain made her scream out in agony. "Shh Molly," he soothed "I'm just adding the final touches before I let you go home my love," His words did not help; she writhed underneath him as the blade continued to scar her skin. Molly's screams echoed across the walls, bouncing around the room as she pounded the ground with the arm Moriarty was not slicing. The screaming and defacing of Molly's skin continued for what felt like hours until her voice became hoarse, screaming had subdued and she was reduced to a sobbing mess, exhaustion was taking over her and the darkness was closing in once again.