Her head throbbing was the first thing Alice felt, when she came to. She felt like someone was hammering red-hot nails into her head - or some small animal had its claws in her temples, stabbing and scratching at her brain. Opening her eyes felt even worse, to the point of tears welling up in her eyes and her being unable to blink them away. So she decided to keep her eyes closed, since everything was dark anyway.
As she tried to lift one of her hands to at least wipe her tears away, she realised she couldn't move her arms. For a short moment Alice panicked fearing the worst, already picturing herself paralysed after some kind of freak accident. But concentrating on her body she realised that she was sitting upright in a chair, her arms and legs bound. After a short 'screening' she was relieved to detect no significant injuries aside from her head injury, which explained her dizziness and nausea.
Alice tried to remember what happened, but kept drawing a blank. And the more she tried the more she felt like puking. So she concentrated on her other senses. First she felt the cold humid air and water droplets on her skin. Smelling the air she grimaced since it smelled foul -like stagnant water- and hearing water dripping she came to the conclusion that she was somewhere underground. She remembered being in the canalisation once -though she couldn't remember why- and the air smelling the same way.
Just then she realised she was thirsty. It must have been some time, since she drank last, more than 8 hours at least. Opening her mouth to moisten her dry lips, she could clearly feel them crack making her wince.
Taking a deep breath Alice tried to collect her thoughts. She must have been abducted, and judging by her headache and the weird sticky feeling on her head, they got her pretty bad. Moving her shoulders and hands she felt herself wearing her lab coat, the cotton fabric gently rubbing over her wrists. So she must have been taken from her workplace. Come on, Alice. What else?
Carefully lifting her head she tried to open her eyes this time succeeding, though her vision was still blurred. Her surroundings were dark, just like she remembered the tunnels under the city. The little grey light coming from under some kind of door was enough to see the small room she was in. Though calling it room would probably 'overdo' it, since it wasn't even bigger than a broom closet - just enough room for two people standing side by side, the only object being the chair she was sitting on at the wall across the door. If her legs hadn't been tied, she could have even reached the door.
She remembered once seeing a map of the tunnels of the London Underground. The realisation of her low chances to get found in the vast tunnel network under London hit her like a brick wall. Suddenly the cold air felt thick, making her already dry throat tying up. Her heart started to race, setting her whole body on fire, but sending a cold shiver down her back. The darkness surrounding her was infiltrating and slowing down her thoughts, the overall feeling of helplessness spiralling out of control and threatening to drown her.
Through the constant pulsating pain in her head and her burning lungs Alice gripped the chair she was sitting on, her knuckles turning ghostly white. Her whole system was closing down on her, her last thought of a familiar voice.
"You are not like other people."
Snapping her eyes open Alice mentally grabbed that thought, willing herself to take deeper breaths. Wading through her foggy thoughts she tried to remember the face behind the voice.
"You are not like other people." Sherlock's voice echoed over to her.
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon and Sherlock invited Alice over for some tea and biscuits. Ever since she befriended the consulting detective she spent her Sunday afternoons with him, talking about old cases. Usually John was joining them entertaining her with anecdotes about his adventures with Sherlock, but this time he was spending the day with his current girlfriend. So the detective and the forensic doctor were alone.
"Is that supposed to be a compliment? 'Cause I'm not sure how to take that."
Alice was sitting in John's armchair a teacup in her hands. She just finished her story about how her old assistant turned the morgue upside-down in search for his mobile, only to realise he left it in the body when the device started to ring. How he managed to do that was beyond her comprehension. And how she made him apologise to the dead for having to open them up a second time. He never lived it down once their colleagues found out - and was not allowed to take any personal belongings in the room.
"It is." Stepping away from the window Sherlock took a seat opposite of her. "You know I'm bad at this whole-" He motioned with his fingers around. "...human interaction and communication- thing."
"No shit, Sherlock." Without looking up Alice rolled her eyes at the detective, his chuckling echoing through the room.
Slowly her breathing evened out at the fond memory. The consulting detective was undoubtedly the most brilliant man she ever met, but his half-hearted attempts to act 'normal' were -for the lack of a better word- cringe-worthy. At least he always made her laugh - even if it was at his expense.
Trying to relax her aching muscles Alice concentrated on the sound of the water droplets still dripping somewhere, uninterrupted from her previous panic attack, the soft and constant dripping nearly lulling her to sleep.
That was until she heard the faint scraping of shoes over the floor slowly getting closer, walking at a leisurely pace towards the door, the heavy footsteps echoing through the dark tunnels. Alice anxiously snapped up her eyes staring at the door. For a brief moment she considered screaming for help, but remembering she had been abducted, she realised it must be her kidnapper returning. So she remained quiet staring straight at the gap under the door, listening to the ominous approaching steps.
Moments before the steps stopped in front of the door the room was covered in complete darkness. And then she heard someone fidgeting with -what she assumed were- keys, before the door was roughly ripped open, the light instantly blinding her. Blinking back the tears she looked up.
"I like that view." The voice sent a shiver down her back - and not the good kind.
Squinting up at him all she saw were dark sunken eyes under a mop of dirty blond hair. He looked ill -like after a long sickness- his eyes eerily familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. And then it hit her like a second brick wall that day. He was familiar, because she'd been working with him for years.
"Trent.", she gasped.
His evil grin told her she was right. "Hello, Alice."