**Hi everyone! Thanks for reading my first chapter! I'm really excited about the developing story!**
**Sorry it has been taking me so long. I just want to make sure everything is perfect and I don't miss anything for later on :)**
**Also, thank you all for your positive feedback! I really appreciate it!**
**Just a hint for the next chapter - look up grayanotoxins if you want a spoiler - you might find something familiar :)**
Chapter 2
Day 1: 2:36 pm: University College Hospital
"Mild cardiac arrest, low blood pressure, extremely low oxygen levels. Currently unconscious but we expect that she will wake up soon. We're monitoring her vitals and everything seems to be returning to normal at a healthy rate." The doctor said as he shuffled through the file and then looked up at Sherlock and John. They were standing outside of the room Molly had been put in and had been waiting anxiously.
"Why did this happen? Have you found any underlying conditions that could have led to this?" John asked.
"Not yet. We're currently running some tests, and we're going to ask her some questions when she wakes up."
John was still in disbelief. "How could this have happened? She's healthy and young. Does she have a history of cardiac disease in her family?"
"No." Sherlock replied rather hastily. He hadn't said a word since the EMT's took Molly away, and John had noticed that he was fidgeting more than normal.
"Excuse me, Doctor? Miss Hooper needs your attention." The nurse gestured toward Molly's room. As the doctor retreated to see what the problem was, Sherlock dropped into the nearest chair and tapped his feet nervously.
"Sherlock, what happened when you were with her?"
"I told you already, John." The fidgeting didn't stop.
"Sherlock, the doctor said she would wake up soon. She'll be fine."
"Does this seem like a coincidence to you?" Sherlock said abruptly as he turned to face John.
"Does what seem like a coincidence?"
"That we get word of Moriarty's so-called return just before Molly is hospitalized? I think she was targeted. I knew this would happen!" Sherlock said loudly as he buried his face in his hands.
"Sherlock, I know you're worried…"
"I'm not worried."
John glared at him. "You know, being concerned for a friend isn't a bad thing."
Sherlock groaned. "I don't need that lecture right now, John."
"As I was saying, I think you're overreacting. We should wait until the tests come back. Geez, and you get mad when we say you're a drama queen."
"Hey, you two. How's she doing?" Greg Lestrade had just come up the stairs and was walking toward them.
"About time you showed up, Grant. Do you not consider Molly your friend? I texted you almost 30 minutes ago and you were at Scotland Yard when you received it. My contacts said that you didn't leave until 12 minutes ago. Don't even pretend like you care." Sherlock stated rather bluntly.
Lestrade opened his mouth to retaliate, but John interjected. "Ignore him, Greg. He's a little shaken."
"No I'm not!"
"Right…" Lestrade looked at Sherlock quizzically. "So?"
"She'll be all right." said John. "She had a mild heart attack, and it seems she passed out from hypoxemia."
"Oh God!" Lestrade took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair.
"Relax, Greg, hypoxemia just means poor blood oxygenation." said John comfortingly.
"Here we go again with the doctor rubbish." Sherlock said as he fell further back in his chair and rubbed his temples.
John ignored him. "And having a mild heart attack is uncommon at her age, but not unheard of. She'll be back to herself in no time."
Lestrade continued to inquire about Molly's condition and interrogated Sherlock as to what had actually happened earlier. As they were talking, the nurse currently taking care of Molly left her room (rather hurriedly, Sherlock noticed) and came back a few minutes later with two new doctors. Why would they be necessary? Sherlock thought to himself while following the doctors with his gaze.
John noticed the look of concern on Sherlock's face. "What is it?" He asked, as he turned towards the door.
"Two other doctors just went into her room. Why would she need them?"
"Maybe they just went in to ask her some questions." John said. "Listen, you need to get your mind off of this. Greg, got any interesting cases lying in wait for the one and only consulting detective?"
"Yeah, now that you mention it. Here's something definitely worth looking at." Lestrade shifted gears and pulled out his phone. "Just got this update today. Your brother told me to let you know." Lestrade gestured at Sherlock. Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"Apparently, they traced the video source." "The video of Moriarty?" Sherlock asked, suddenly interested.
"Yeah. It seems like it came from somewhere in the Marylebone district, which…"
"Baker street." said John. "Why would Moriarty make it seem like it came from 221B?"
"To make it seem like I created the video to protect myself from being sent away on that suicide mission." stated Sherlock plainly. "Really, that seems rather amateurish of him. There's something peculiar about this whole situation."
"Well?" Lestrade asked.
"Well, what? I don't have time for vague or unintelligible questions."
"You think he's actually alive?"
"Not sure." Sherlock bit his lip in frustration. "But whether alive or dead, he's planned something big. This isn't the end of it."
"But if it isn't Moriarty, then who could it be? Who would he leave this 'big plan' with?" said Lestrade, just as confused as ever. He never seemed to pick up on anything.
"I don't know, but that's why I'm here, isn't it?" Sherlock grinned for the first time since the incident at Bart's. Unfortunately, that would be the last time he would smile for the next few weeks to come.
At that moment, the doctor that had spoken to them before came out of the room, but this time the optimism had faded out of his eyes. Sherlock stood up and the three turned to him, concerned.
"I have some unexpected and difficult news for you gentlemen." The doctor said as he set down his clipboard and put his hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but I don't think Ms. Hooper will wake up for a while."
"First of all, it's Doctor Hooper." Sherlock said, his patience wearing thin. "Secondly, why? What happened?"
"We're not entirely sure, but she's gone into a low-level coma."
"What?" said both John and Greg simultaneously. Sherlock, however, just stared quite blankly.
"Don't worry, it's not too bad. I would say only a 10 on the Glasgow scale. She still has reflexes and responds to pain stimulus, but not to voice or soft touch."
John looked thoroughly confused (however, he rarely looks differently). "How did this happen? I thought you said it wasn't serious."
"There must be a stronger underlying cause that we haven't found yet." The doctor said apologetically. "My hunch is that there is a toxin present that caused the cardiac response and the hypoxemia, and that the extreme hypoxemia caused her to slip into a comatose state of consciousness. The most important thing is that she doesn't seem to have any brain damage, so we expect that this will be short lived as long as we can find the source and rid her body of the toxin."
"Well, I guess that's a good thing. Silver lining, eh?" said Greg hopefully. "How long do you think it will last?"
"Not sure, comatose patients are very hard to judge."
"Geez" John placed his hands on his hips and turned to Sherlock, who was still staring blankly forward. "How could something have gotten into her system so fast?"
"Don't act like you don't already know, John." Sherlock said, speaking for the first time.
"OK, so you're saying that Moriarty poisoned her, is that what you're saying, Sherlock?"
"Jesus Christ, are you serious?" Lestrade gasped.
"I don't know, Sherlock, it could be just a coincidence." John said, hoping that what he said was true, though he was pretty sure Sherlock was right. He almost always was, which didn't help with his ego or social skills.
"You know what we say about coincidences, John." Sherlock said intently, with that determined look in his eyes that John knew all too well. "The universe is rarely so lazy."
With that, Sherlock turned quickly on his heels and raced down the stairs.
As both John and Greg watched him go, Greg asked "Where do you think he's off to?"
"Christ knows." John said and ran after Sherlock, only to find him taking off in a cab, not wanting to be followed.
Day 1: 3:18pm: St. Bartholomew's Hospital
"Something, something, there must have been something I missed!" Sherlock hissed through clenched teeth as he stormed into the lab that he and Molly had been in only hours before.
He tore through all of the chemicals on the lab bench and hastily decided that nothing there could have caused it. Sherlock then quickly moved towards the office and searched through her desk. Nothing out of the ordinary: just basic office supplies, a couple pictures, and an uneaten lunch. Frustrated, Sherlock dug through the bin next to her desk. No food wrappers, only tissues and papers. As he stood up, he noticed a refillable water bottle and a mug, both only half full.
This is it. It had to be. Quickly, Sherlock brought both the specimens over to the lab bench, took samples, and got to work. He ran chemical analyses through the computer and examined both the water and the tea under the microscope while he was waiting for the results. While waiting, his mind wandered to the topic of Moriarty.
If this was Moriarty (and he was sure it was), why would he target Molly? Sherlock never gave any indication whatsoever to just how important Molly was to him. And that was the point. Her safety was most important. John, Mary, Mycroft, and even Mrs. Hudson could handle themselves in a situation like this, but Molly couldn't. She's delicate, and frankly hopeless in precarious situations. Like he had said before, she was the one person that mattered the most, which Moriarty hadn't realized, and it had to stay that way until the final problem was solved. Maybe after that…
No, focus. He told himself. Focus on the problem at hand.
Just then, the computer beeped with the analyses results: Nothing. Absolutely nothing in the water from the bottle. The only thing slightly strange about the contents of the tea was the higher-than-usual concentration of grayanotoxins, but these chemicals were commonly found in honey from certain flowers. They could make people sick in a high enough amount, but Sherlock waved it away as irrelevant.
There was nothing. Nothing unusual about the water or tea. Frustrated, Sherlock slammed his fist on the table and went back to the microscope, desperately hoping there was something he missed.
As it turned out, the problem was staring right at him. Literally.
"Aw, poor little Sherly. His precious girlfriend is sick and he doesn't know what to do. Did you miss me Sherlock? I certainly missed you."
**Thank you all for reading! Please, leave any comments you have below - every opinion is appreciated!**