1 Year Later
The battle to unite the two families was going... Let's just say OK. At least neither Samantha or Sherlock had been hurt, and John was still as... Well... Johnny as ever. Sherlock hadn't seen Sam for 3 months but he was OK with that. She was probably off following up a lead or something.
Sherlock felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He took his time, and he knew exactly how many rings there were anyway, so there was no rush.
"Hello." he said calmly, and was surprised to hear no response for a second. Then he heard a desperate whisper, a voice he recognised all too well.
"God, Sherlock they're here. The Sanders. They're here." he heard a scuffling sound and a smash, then a heavy thud.
"Sam? What's happening?" Sherlock asked, sitting up, and for the first time in his life felt a sharp pang of hurt in his heart. They had gone after Sam.
"Shit Sherlock, they're here! Oh God, h-" she cut off and he heard a scream, muffled as though her mouth was pressed up against something.
"JOHN!" Sherlock screamed through the house, and John appeared a second later, wearing a black suit having just come home from work. He had filled John in with all the details about Samantha 1 year ago.
"Call Mycroft and Lestrade. Tell Mrs Hudson I will be back late." John gave him a confused look.
"They have Sam."
John jumped into action as Sherlock pressed the phone to his ear again. No sobbing, just short, terrified breaths.
"Sam, I'm coming. Don't cut off the phone line. Don't." Sherlock said into the phone in the calmest voice he could muster, not bothering with a coat or scarf, just forcing his feet into his boots.
"Who else have you called?" Sherlock asked her, trying to keep the panic out of his voice as he heard many more smashes and thuds. He raced down the stairs, out the door and straight in front of a taxi which abruptly stopped and let him in.
"No one, you were the only person I could think of." she whispered down the phone.
Sherlock yelled at the taxi to take him to Sam's house. He kept talking to Sam on the phone, trying to calm her down. He wasn't much good at it.
"And remember when-" he was cut off by a loud, hurtful scream, then static. The phone had been cut off. Sherlock was seriously worried now, and screamed at the cabbie to drive faster.
Eventually he got to her flat, walking in the front door (whoever came after her had left the door open). There was a series of heavy thuds from inside, and a groan.
"Sam? I'm coming." Sherlock yelled through the house and ran into the room where the noises were coming from.
There were three men with metal batons and knives inside, clad in black. They took one look at Sherlock and scarpered, running out the door for all they were worth. Another thing – they had Samantha.