Hi again! Here is the new chapter and I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know if you do. It greatly encourages me to write more and faster if I know people like it!

A few things to be aware of: I started writing this way before The Abominable Bride came out so Sherlock is very much NOT high after landing and I didn't want to change that otherwise it would ruin the flow of my story. This chapter is set the day of the Broadcast and follows Sherlock through his search for Molly. Molly has been with Jim for roughly two weeks and by the end of the chapter it will have been about a month that she has been imprisoned. I think that's everything. :P

Thank you to those who have reviewed, favourited, and are following this story. Your interest is greatly appreciated!

Please enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the show.

Chapter 3

2 weeks earlier

Sherlock Holmes, the world's only Consulting Detective, paced the length of his brother's office, his Belstaff coat fluttering around his legs with each turn he made. John Watson, Sherlock's best friend and blogger, watched the detective pace, scrubbing a hand along his stubbled jaw. Mary, his wife, was currently in the bathroom; with the impending birth of their child only weeks away she struggled with the constant pressure on her bladder.

John's eyes flicked up when Sherlock started muttering under his breath and John sighed. This sudden return of Moriarty was weighing heavily on them all, Sherlock especially. When the detective had told John of the fall he had sworn that he had seen Moriarty kill himself. The fact that he was now on every television across Britain was shocking and disturbing. There was some good that had come of Moriarty's supposed return; Sherlock was no longer being sent on that six month suicide mission. He was now needed here to deal with the Moriarty threat. The footage had lasted two minutes at the most and when Sherlock's plane had landed on the tarmac Mycroft Holmes' car had then taken them to Mycroft's office. They had been there for the last three hours and John knew that Sherlock was on the verge of snapping.

The sound of the door opening had John turning to see Mary enter the office and he offered her a small smile which she returned, heading over to him and sitting beside him on the couch. He lifted an arm to wrap around her shoulders, turning his head to press a kiss to her forehead. They both turned to watch Sherlock's quick movements, the man's hands steepled beneath his chin. Sherlock's hands soon migrated towards his hair, tousling the curls in frustration, and John knew he had finally reached his breaking point.

"Sherlock-"

"Where the hell is Mycroft?" Sherlock demanded as he whirled to face them, his expression livid. John sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. Mary squeezed his other hand in silent support.

"A whole bloody hour he's kept me here-"

"Us here," Mary interjected but Sherlock continued as if she hadn't said anything.

"-when I need to be out there hunting Moriarty down! But it couldn't be him. I saw him shoot himself, he was dead…" His rant trailed off into furious muttering and John and Mary shared a helpless look. The sound of the door opening and closing went unnoticed by the trio until Mycroft Holmes stood beside the door.

"You will have the opportunity soon enough to see the video footage once more, Sherlock," Mycroft drawled as he made his way to his desk, bending over it as he sifted through the files that rested there. Sherlock continued his pacing. Mycroft sighed as he sat behind his desk.

"We have been unable to trace the origin of the video so far. My people are looking into it. For now, Sherlock, you will be given all the files we currently have on Moriarty to use at your leisure." Mycroft lifted a sardonic brow at his younger sibling. "You do understand that your sentence for the murder of Charles Magnussen has been postponed indefinitely until the Moriarty case is solved." When he received no reply from the detective Mycroft sighed again and turned his attention on the Watsons.

"The security detail on you both will be upgraded effective immediately." When John looked about to protest Mycroft held up a hand. "This is non-negotiable. Dr. Watson, you have previously been targeted by Moriarty before and with the impending birth of your child it is critical to the health of yourself, your wife, your child, and my brother that you are kept safe." Mycroft's voice was firm and decisive, allowing no room for argument, not that John could raise any when the facts were placed before him. John's brow furrowed as a thought came to him.

"What about Molly? She was the one who helped Sherlock fake his death. It would stand to reason that she could be a possible target if this really is Moriarty." Both Mycroft and John's gazes flickered to Sherlock who had stilled in his pacing, his eyes closed and the tips of his pointer fingers pressed to the bottom of his chin. Mycroft's lips twitched.

"You are correct, Dr. Watson. As soon as we discovered the Moriarty video I dispatched a team to oversee Dr. Hooper's protection. My assistant, Anthea, is keeping tabs on the progress of-" He paused when his office door banged open, Anthea rushing into the room and John was surprised that her eyes weren't glued to the Blackberry in her hands. In fact, her expression appeared almost frightened. Mycroft frowned and stood.

"Anthea-"

"I'm sorry, Sir," Anthea rushed out, crossing the office quickly and coming to stand before his desk. "I have just been informed that Dr. Hooper has been forcefully taken from her flat." Sherlock's eyes snapped open and John and Mary rushed to their feet.

"What?" John asked, shocked. He gently rested a hand on the small of his wife's back as she straightened beside him, her own hand coming to settle on her protruding belly.

"What has happened?" Mycroft asked. Anthea began scrolling through her Blackberry, rattling off information as she went.

"The team you sent to guard Molly went dark approximately forty-five mintues ago. I sent another team in and they discovered the first team killed at their posts surrounding Molly's flat. Her flat was deserted though showed signs of a struggle-" she was cut off when Sherlock suddenly rushed forward, gazing hard at his older brother.

"You need to take me to Molly's flat now," he said, and John was surprised to hear the hard edge in his voice. The Holmes brothers were locked in a silent staring match for a few moments before Mycroft nodded.

"Of course," he said and strode around his desk, whipping out his mobile. "I'll have the car sent immediately." Sherlock didn't wait for more and strode quickly from the room, his Belstaff whipping about him. John turned to Mary.

"I think it would be best if you headed home," John said softly. "I need to make sure that Sherlock doesn't do anything stupid." Mary smiled and leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

"Of course, darling. I would expect no less." John returned her kiss and smiled down at her for a moment before turning to Mycroft.

"You'll make sure she gets home safely?" Mycroft nodded gravely.

"You have my word." John stared hard at the older Holmes before nodding firmly. Pressing one last kiss to Mary's lips John followed his friend out of the room.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSH

The consulting detective crouched beside the blue velvet couch in Molly Hooper's sitting room. A small splatter of blood shimmered beneath his pocket magnifier and his chest tightened with an unnamed feeling as what happened to the pathologist flooded his brilliant mind…

Molly was placing her coat on the hook beside her front door, her keys jingling in her hand as she moved to the sitting room. A sigh left her as she dropped onto her couch and flicked on the television, her cat Toby leaping onto the couch beside her, rubbing his head against her thigh. Molly was staring into space, absently petting Toby's head when the evening news flickered, bringing Molly's attention back to the screen.

"Did you miss me?"

A startled cry escaped her and she leapt to her feet, Toby hissing as he fell to the floor, his tail whipping behind him as he ran to her bedroom. Molly stared at the television in horror, her hand covering her mouth as James Moriarty's face filled the screen. His dark eyes were bright and manic, his mouth curling creepily as he repeated the sentence over and over. She didn't know how long she stood there, transfixed by the evil face of the consulting criminal when the television suddenly shut off.

Molly stared in shock at the blank screen then tensed when her reflection on the television screen was joined by another. Her scream was muffled by the large hand that suddenly clamped over her mouth and a thick arm banded tightly around her waist, hauling her against a solid body. Her eyes wide in panic Molly struggled violently in her captor's hold, kicking her heels into his shins and twisting in his grip. By some miracle her wayward kicks somehow managed to kick him solidly in the groin and her captor released her with a strangled howl. Molly took the opportunity to scrabble away from him but he lurched forward, grabbing her wrist in a meaty fist and delivered a powerful backhand across her face. With a sharp cry Molly fell to the ground, her head hitting the coffee table before meeting the floor, darkness rushing in as she fell unconscious…

Sherlock stood slowly, tucking his pocket magnifier away as he cast a look around the room. His keen eyes caught the scratches on the edge of the couch, no doubt made by Molly's cat in his haste to hide in her bedroom. His eyes continued about the room, barely noticing John's presence in the doorway, until they caught once again on the small splatter of blood by the overturned carpet. His gloved hands curled into fists at his sides and Sherlock turned swiftly away, heading towards the entry way as Lestrade motioned the forensics team into Molly's living room. John waited patiently in the corridor for his best friend to begin his deductions only to frown when Sherlock was silent, his gaze far reaching as he seemed lost in thought.

"Sherlock?" John began tentatively and Sherlock shook his head slightly before meeting the doctor's gaze.

"Her attacker was male, approximately 6 feet in height judging by the slight scuff mark against the door frame. He approached her from behind, most likely intending to take her by surprise though I believe that back fired. She heard him, or perhaps saw his reflection in the television screen, and tried to defend herself. A blow to the head would have rendered her unconscious and unable to correct her fall, thus the blood on the coffee table and floor. Forensics will confirm the blood is hers." He fell silent and John noticed the way the detective's fists were clenching and unclenching at his side.

"Do you have any idea who could have done this?" Sherlock's gaze collided with John's dark blue.

"Molly was taken approximately around the time of the television broadcast. I hardly think it is a coincidence, John. The world isn't that lazy."

"You think Moriarty has her? Or whoever is pretending to be him?" John's voice held a hint of anger as the doctor tried to control his emotions. If it was truly James Moriarty back from the dead, though John couldn't possibly understand how this could be; the man had shot himself in the face for Pete's sake, the thought of Molly in his hands made John feel sick. He could only imagine how Sherlock was feeling; the consulting detective and the pathologist had grown much closer over the past year, Sherlock really trying much harder to take care in sparing her feelings. He had even refrained from deducing Molly's ex fiancé and to John that was quiet telling. Never once had Sherlock spared Molly's feelings when it came to her horrible taste in men, criticizing her and belittling her at every opportunity, deducing her boyfriends and ultimately breaking them up in the process. But with Tom, and Sherlock's two years away taking down Moriarty's network, Sherlock had changed. John sighed as Sherlock didn't answer. He asked another question.

"What are we going to do, Sherlock?" Ice blue eyes focused on his friend.

"If it is truly Moriarty, or perhaps one of his fanatics, we will take them down." The detective's voice was firm and unyielding and John followed Sherlock as he moved past him and down the corridor. As John watched, the detective's coat billowed about him as he strode away and hoped that wherever Molly was that she would be able to hold on long enough for them to find her.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

Almost a month had passed and there was no hint or sign of Molly Hooper. The blood that had been taken from Molly's flat had tested positive as hers in the labs but no other evidence had been found in her flat. The man that had attacked her had simply vanished with her.

John watched as Sherlock slowly grew quieter and quieter as days and weeks passed, no further clues turning up. Sherlock would spend hours at a time deep in his mind palace, his long frame curled tightly in his chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. John was beginning to think that perhaps it wasn't Moriarty after all, as the consulting criminal would have left a clue by now as to his motives.

Detective Inspector Lestrade had immediately put a word out to all the police stations in London for any sign of the pathologist after they had secured her flat. Just the other night John had seen a news report on the telly, Molly's smiling face filling the screen and John's heart had squeezed painfully in worry and fear. They could only hope that Moriarty, or whoever had taken her, would slip up. He didn't know how much more they could take.

The doctor sighed as he sank into his old chair and watched his friend. He really should return to his wife. Mary had been devastated by the news of Molly's kidnapping and encouraged John to help Sherlock any way he could in getting the pathologist back. Mary and Molly had grown close in the two years that Mary and John had been together, striking a close friendship and understanding. While Molly didn't know Mary's true history Mary had confided in him that she knew Molly suspected something but was too polite and kind to dig further.

John scrubbed a hand across his unshaven jaw, the worry for his wife, who was very close to popping with their first child, the worry for Molly, who was in the hands of an unknown, or possibly well known enemy, and the worry for his best friend, who seemed to be closing himself off from the outside world the longer Molly was missing, threatened to overwhelm him. He cast his gaze to the still detective before glancing at his watch.

With another sigh John stood and moved toward the coffee table, pulling the notepad resting there towards him and scribbling Sherlock a note before heading towards the door and pulling on his coat. He missed his wife something fierce, the strain of the last few weeks taking its toll and John just wanted to lie beside his wife, bury his face in her sweet smelling hair and rest his hand on her swollen belly to feel the life kicking inside.

John had just stepped through the door when he heard Sherlock's phone ringing. He turned his head slightly, seeing that the detective hadn't moved in the slightest and with a sigh John returned to the room and picked up Sherlock's phone from the side table, checking the ID before answering.

"Greg, it's John. Sherlock's a little indisposed right now –" John trailed off as Greg Lestrade spoke rapidly on the other end. John's eyes widened.

"What? Where?" As Lestrade continued to tell him the details he didn't notice Sherlock's eyes flutter open and his hands lower from his chin.

"Hell," John whispered. "Thanks, Greg. We'll be there as soon as we can." John hung up and turned to see Sherlock on his feet, waiting impatiently for John to speak.

"That was Greg. He said a woman has been spotted in Hyde Park matching Molly's description-" John barely had the words out before Sherlock was rushing towards the door, grabbing his coat and scarf as he dashed down the stairs. With a muttered curse John followed after him, hoping that this woman was the one they had been searching for.

There you have it! I hope you enjoyed it and please let me know what you think. Reviews, favourites and followers are very much welcome!