"Where haven't we looked?" John Watson asked. He had dark circles under his eyes and he looked like he hadn't slept in days. It had been two weeks since they had gone to the factory and two weeks since Rosie had died.
"John, we already looked everywhere in England. She can't have left the country. We would have known. Mycroft has his men everywhere."
"There has to be somewhere."
"John," Sherlock said hesitantly, "I'm really sorry but Rosie's dead. We saw her die." John paused.
"Sherlock we can at least find her body."
"You know Euros she probably-"
"Probably what?"
"Got rid of her." John sat down heavily and put his face in his hands. Sherlock watched him sadly.
"John I'm sorry I truly am but this is unhealthy. Rosie sacrificed herself so you could live. Don't waste it." John looked up.
"I'm tired of losing people Sherlock. First it was you,"
"I've said before I'm very sorry about that."
"Then Mary and now Rosie. I can't keep losing people like this."
Miles away Rosie was waking up. She had been in this little cell for weeks. All she had had was water and some bread that was pushed through a small hatch in the door. Euros hadn't tried to talk to her at all since the first time she woke up here. Since that time Rosie had examined every inch of the cell. The door stayed locked at all times and the only window was too small to fit through. She was standing up to stretch when the door opened for the first time. Rosie tensed and got ready for whatever was coming. Two armed guards came in. They didn't say anything. They walked over to her and grabbed her by the arms.
"Let go of me you-" Her voice was muffled when the guards put a cloth hood over her head. Rosie tried to fight but her leg was hurt and the men had already grabbed her arms. They led her down a series of hallway. Rosie tried to memorize the route but there were too many twists and turns. They finally stopped and they ripped the cloth of her head. Rosie saw they were in a room that looked suspiciously like a doctor's office. There was a white table in the middle of the room. There were black velcro straps sticking out of the table. On a tray near the table there was a scalpel, tweezers, and needle and thread. Rosie quickly figured out what was going on.
"No way," she said. The men started to move her to the table.
"No, no, no, no, no. It's ok really it can just stay in my leg. You really don't need to take it out." The men lifted her onto the table, squirming and yelling. When she was on the table they pulled the straps over her body, tying down her arms, legs, and torso. A woman in doctor scrubs and a white mask covering her mouth walked in.
"You know I just remembered I don't have the money to afford this," Rosie in a last ditch effort to stop them, "So you can just put away the scalpel and we can all go home." The doctor walked over to the table and picked up the scalpel. One of the guards untied the strip of shirt from Rosie's thigh. It was a bloody mess. The doctor walked over to Rosie.
"Hold down the leg," she said emotionless. One of the men grabbed Rosie's leg and held it down so she couldn't move it. The doctor put the scalpel right on the edge of the wound.
"No, don't, no-" The doctor put the scalpel in. Rosie screamed. The guard held tight to her leg. She could feel the doctor prodding around for the bullet. A few seconds later and Rosie heard a metallic ting of the bullet hitting the tray. Rosie was breathing heavily and sweat shone on her forehead. The doctor then took the needle and thread to sew up the wound. This hurt far less than taking out the bullet. When the doctor was done she tied it up and cut the thread. The men then undid the straps and put the hood back on Rosie's head. They led her back down the long series of hallways and throw her back into her cell.
"Wait!" Rosie yelled, "I need to talk to Euros! Why am I still-" The door slammed in her face, "alive?" Rosie huffed in exasperation and sat down against the wall. There was nothing to do but wait and wonder when she would next have human contact. With nothing to do Rosie decided to make herself stronger. She did started doing push ups. The sudden weight on her leg made her wound burn. She fell from the sudden pain. Determined she got back up and tried again. She managed to do five push ups before falling again. Rosie sat on the floor for a second and then got back at it. The longest run of push ups she got was 15 and by then she was exhausted. Her leg wouldn't hold for very long without collapsing and she was still weak from little amounts of food. Rosie knew she needed to find a way out of this. She need a plan.