Hey, I'm back with a new fic and this one is completely post season 4 as opposed to being tweaked. I was loosely inspired by the book Rogue Male about a man on the run (Benedict is currently pegged to be the main character in the film version) but that's where the similarity ends.

I have to admit it was quite a difficult concept for me as I've never been on the run and have no idea where you'd even start especially if you're Sherlock Holmes! Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 1

Sherlock couldn't remember ever feeling this terrified before, his heart was hammering in his chest, his mouth felt dry and his hands were shaking ever so slightly. The only time he'd even come close was in those locked room puzzles set by Eurus and here she was playing with him once again. He had no idea how she had got out this time but she had and it wasn't that she was coming for him...no, he could handle that. Instead she was coming for his heart, she was coming for Molly. He just had to get to her first.

'Dammit, pick up, pick up...' Sherlock's fingers were drumming on his thigh as he listened for the phone that he was calling to be answered.

'You alright mate; you seem in a right rush.'

'Just shut up and drive...and don't go right we'll get caught in traffic...stay straight until the second lights.'

The cabbie was saying something in response but Sherlock was already not listening, the phone had been answered.

'Molly, listen to me. I need you to follow what I say exactly, without question. Leave the morgue, take the corridor to the caretaker's room, head past the laundry and exit Barts by the fire exit at the end. If you can get rid of your lab coat and find some other hat or coat to disguise yourself do it. I'll be with you in...' he consulted his watch and where they were, '...seven minutes. Don't talk to anyone, don't tell them you've spoken to me and Molly, whatever you do don't go near any car until you've physically seen me.'

With that he hung up, he was already worried that his phone was being monitored, that this cab was being followed using CCTV. He needed to get Molly out of London, as far away from Eurus and technology as he could. He'd have to rely on John and Mycroft to deal with his sister for now, his only concern would be Molly's safety...nothing else mattered.

He had to acknowledge that the cab driver was making good time, traffic was light, the route was clear and he was breaking as many traffic laws as he could to get his client where he needed to be. He'd obviously overheard the conversation and noted the concern in Sherlock's voice and he was responding accordingly.

Sherlock's mind was already three steps ahead trying to think of the best place to take Molly to. It had to be remote, with no connection to either of them but first he had to get them out of London.

With a minute in hand and following Sherlock's directions the cab pulled round into a back alley behind the old edifice of St Bartholomew's hospital. Sherlock just hoped that he was in time, that Molly was still safe. Beyond a handful of people he didn't know who he could trust. He'd have to live on his wits and rely on Mycroft's ability to find Eurus. He hated being so reliant on him, on anyone else, but needs must.

The cab had made it to the end of the alley which culminated in a large gated yard, currently standing open, which was filled with a variety of large wheeled bins, some overflowing with rubbish awaiting collection. The door that Sherlock had told Molly to leave through was closed and there was no sign of her. He could hear his heart beat thudding in his chest, was he too late, had he missed her somehow? He started to exit the taxi with one eye on the door hoping she'd come through it any minute.

Once he was outside he turned full circle taking in every detail of the quadrangle and it was then that he saw her and relief flooded through him. She had hidden herself behind the third bin along from the door and she was nervously peering out to see if she could see him.

When their eyes met he saw her relieved smile as she pushed the bin forward just enough that she could squeeze her way past and reach him.

He moved forward to meet her half way and without either of them really thinking about it they embraced.

'God, Sherlock you terrified me, what's going on?'

The only other time that Sherlock remembered being in her arms like this was when he'd returned from his fake death and he'd surprised her in the staff changing rooms less than a hundred yards from where they were standing now. Just like then she was holding him hard and close and just like then he'd felt a swell of emotion for this small, fierce woman who loved him so unconditionally. But unlike then they had no time for indulgence.

Sherlock pulled away from her and took her hand towing her along with him back to the cab.

'Not here, not now. It isn't safe.'

He gestured for her to get into the cab but before he followed he took his phone out of his pocket and threw it in the direction of the bins where it hit the wall behind before clattering in pieces to the floor. He heard Molly's sharp intake of breath at his actions.

He turned back to her. 'Do you have your phone on you?'

She looked shocked and confused but she shook her head. 'I...no...no it was in my locker.'

He climbed into the cab beside her and barked another instruction to the cab driver. 'I thought as much. I'd already tried reaching you on it before ringing the morgue landline.'

'Sherlock, what the hell's happening? I was mid-autopsy, I've left a body open on a slab. I can't leave.'

'You have to, we've no choice. I need to get you to safety, now, tonight.'

She gripped his arm. 'But why, you still haven't told me why?'

He closed his eyes in frustration, almost feeling embarrassed to tell her. Once again her life was in danger because of him, because of his family. 'It's Eurus..she's out.'

Molly fell silent taking in his words. When she spoke, a moment later, he could hear the fear in her voice. 'Your sister? The one in that prison that John told me about...how, how could she get out? I thought Mycroft had put in place extra measures.'

Sherlock sniffed. 'We both did, but once again it seems our sister is more resourceful than we gave her credit for. I don't have the full details as to how I just know she's gone and she left a message behind...one which I've heard before.'

'What message?'

'It was written on the floor of her cell, in blood. It just said "I'll burn the heart out of you".'

'Oh.'

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly felt more than a little confused at the turn around that her day had taken. She'd woken up feeling happy and positive, the sun was shining, Toby was curled up asleep at the side of her and she had plans with her best friend Meena that night to hit the town and get drunk and boogie, maybe even pick up some men.

She'd been an hour from finishing work when she'd answered the phone in the morgue expecting it to be her boss Mike Stamford or one of the other pathologists or technicians. She had absolutely not been expecting it to be Sherlock, she didn't even know that he knew that number though it didn't really surprise her...very little about Sherlock surprised her nowadays...she knew to expect the unexpected when it came to him.

What was very evident, very quickly, was the urgency and authority in his voice. Something somewhere must be very wrong for him to give her such hurried and unusual instructions and after understanding the real reason behind that strange phone call from Sherlock four months ago she knew to act on what he said without question...well, within reason.

So as soon as she had put the phone down she had pulled off her remaining latex glove and her lab coat and she had swiftly made her way down the corridor and out through the exit. She hadn't seen anyone on her travels but as she waited at the door she had heard someone starting to open the inner door. She was shocked at how scared and vulnerable she felt in that moment so she'd quickly hidden herself in the small gap behind the bins.

Thankfully it was just one of the hospital cleaners emptying their cart of some rubbish bags, but even after she had gone Molly stayed where she was; only peering out round the side of the bin when she heard the sound of a diesel car driving into the turning area. The relief she felt when she saw Sherlock seemed disproportionate to the situation but she couldn't help but throw herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his expensive suit.

She sat and listened to Sherlock in the car as he explained that his sister was loose and she knew from what she had heard about his sibling over the last few months that she was very intelligent, very unstable and very scary.

John had been the first to mention her. He had come round the day after that strange call with Sherlock where he had insisted on her telling him that she loved him. She'd spent the following 24 hours after he'd hung up in complete fear and confusion. She couldn't get hold of either Sherlock or John, Greg had no idea where they might be and Mrs Hudson was still out of London staying with her sister following the recent explosion at Baker St. Molly felt completely isolated and at a loss about where to turn.

Finally she had had a text from Greg to say that John and Sherlock were safe and a few hours after that John had shown up.

'I'm sorry, I can't stay long Molly but I needed to see you before I went to collect Rosie.'

He'd followed her through into her open plan kitchen and front room but instead of sitting he'd leant against the mantelpiece looking a little nervous.

'What is it John? Greg said you and Sherlock were safe...was he lying? Is..is...' her throat closed up at the thought of something being wrong with Sherlock but John quickly moved to allay her fears.

'No, don't worry Molly. Sherlock's fine, so's Mycroft. They're both with their parents. Listen I've come about that phone call yesterday.'

Molly coloured up as she remembered it. 'Oh, so you know about that then?'

'Yes...listen...Sherlock asked me to explain but I hardly know where to start.' And he had launched into the story about Sherlock and Mycroft having a sister that Sherlock couldn't remember, how they had been held in an offshore prison that this woman controlled and how they had been made to pass certain tests.

Molly sat down heavily on her settee. 'Oh...so that's what it was; just a test for you all to pass? I suppose it makes sense now.' She gave a hollow laugh but she knew her voice sounded muted and sad; she just couldn't help it. That small part of her that had hoped that Sherlock had meant those words finally died.

John sat next to her and took hold of one of her hands. 'Listen Molly, please don't blame Sherlock. He was desperate, we all were. She'd killed people...in front of us. We had no reason to suspect that she wouldn't kill you too and Sherlock couldn't let that happen. You should have seen him Molly...after...he was devastated at having to hurt you.'

He'd then explained that Mycroft was sending some people round to clear her flat of any surveillance equipment and that Sherlock would be spending some time with his family for the foreseeable future then he left.

Molly had felt violated, not just by the emotional impact of that call but in knowing that she had been filmed, in her own home.

In the end she had gone to stay with Meena for a couple of nights leaving her key with a neighbour. She didn't want to be there when Mycroft's people were crawling over her flat, she didn't want to know what other rooms had cameras in and she didn't want to hear when Sherlock was back in town...at least not until she had built her emotional resilience to him back up.

She'd finally gone round to Baker St one day when she knew he and John were clearing up. She needed to control when and how she saw him and not have him bursting into her place of work when she least expected it.

After greeting Mrs Hudson she had made her way upstairs and stood in the doorway looking at the scene of devastation. It felt like a metaphor for her heart and standing in the centre was Sherlock. He turned his head as she arrived and their eyes locked together and there seemed to be an unspoken communication between them; his an apology and hers an acceptance. Then he'd held out a black bin bag to her. 'Here to help Molly? Good, we seem to need all the help we can get.'

And just like that they were back to being friends again.

So we're off and running...sorry, sorry I couldn't resist it. Anyway, the story begins, the game is on. Let me know if you are on board.