Sorry, sorry, I know I've kept you hanging for a while now waiting for the next chapter. I have to admit I wasn't quite sure how to follow up the last two chapters and do the story justice. I hope this chapter isn't too much of a come down.

Chapter 10 - Disappearance

Molly didn't sleep well that night; it seemed to take her forever to drift off. The image of Sherlock at the moment he shot himself playing itself over and over in her mind, the blood hitting the wall of the morgue and that inhuman wail from John. She must have dropped off eventually only to wake again in the small hours of the morning feeling an inexplicable dread that only seems to hit you in the burgeoning dawn in a half awake state.

By the time she woke up properly the next morning she had a hideous headache which she self-medicated with coffee and paracetamol. She skipped breakfast; she just couldn't face it, and instead showered and dressed before heading out to Baker St. to see if Sherlock needed anything before he met with John at lunch.

Surprisingly all was quiet when she arrived. Mrs Hudson let her in and they exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes.

'I haven't heard him moving about at all, if I had I would have taken him his morning cuppa, but you're welcome to go up and check. I know he wouldn't mind you going in his flat.' She smiled and patted Molly's arm in just such a way as to let Molly know that she knew exactly what her relationship with Sherlock was. She doesn't know the half of it thought Molly as she trudged up the stairs. She still hadn't entirely forgiven Sherlock for the previous day but she had come to terms with it. He was right in that it expedited John's acceptance of the situation, but she was sure they could have come up with a less traumatic alternative.

She pushed open the door and called out his name as she entered. She quickly scanned the front room and kitchen before going to his bedroom door. She hesitated a second but then knocked lightly and pushed it open. The room was empty, the bed unslept in. There was no chance of him having slept there and then made the bed, as far as he was concerned there could have been bed fairies who sorted it out for him, Molly knew it was either her or Mrs Hudson tidying up after his lazy, distracted ass.

Molly threw her bag down on the kitchen table and switched the kettle on before checking her phone to see if he'd texted. It was always possible that a case had come up and called him away, but there was nothing.

She settled down on his settee with her drink and a book on ancient death rituals from his overflowing bookcase. An hour later she heard a key in the door and footsteps on the stairs. She was unsurprised however to see John appear in the doorway as the tread had just not sounded like Sherlock.

'Hi Molly,' said John with a grim expression on his face. 'I'm here so let's get on with this.' He looked around expectantly. 'Where is he?'

Molly stood up, 'sorry John, I have no idea. There was no sign of him when I arrived, his bed's not been slept in. I texted him and then Greg to see if he'd been called away on a case but he's seen no sign of him. He asked us to send him over though when he appears as there have been a couple of murders overnight. In fact, on that note I'm going to have to leave in about half an hour to help Mike with the autopsies.'

John pulled his phone out and dialled Sherlock's number. There was obviously no answer as he left a short, abrupt message telling him that he was here and asking where the bloody hell he was.

Molly put her hand on John's arm, 'are you OK?' She could see signs of fatigue and stress and guessed correctly that John, like her, had not had much sleep.

He rubbed his hand across his face and looked at Molly, 'not really no. How long have you known?'

'A few weeks. He came to me soon after it happened. He was going to ask for help running blood tests on himself but one thing led to another and...and well he ended up taking some of my blood.'

John looked horrified, 'he bit you, drank your blood...oh God, this is just sick...a sick nightmare. Is there nothing that can be done. I mean...vampire...I can't even...I don't...'

He sat down heavily in his chair and put his head in his hands, 'every fibre of my being wants to not believe this but I can't explain what I saw...what we both saw. He blew his brains out, there was blood everywhere, he was dead, I know he was dead...and then he wasn't. How is that even possible?'

He looked despairingly at Molly as though begging her to make it all right, take away all the confusion.

She knelt down next to him, 'I have papers, scientific papers that you can read. Mycroft's people have been researching this for decades.'

John rolled his eyes and laughed humourlessly, 'of course they have, next thing you'll be telling me Mycroft's a vampire as well.'

Molly just bit her lip and held eye contact with John.

'Fucking hell...really? Of course he is, figures.'

'I really think reading the research will help. This is not witchcraft or magic, there are cold hard facts. They can't explain everything but Sherlock is sure there is a rational answer. It's just not been found yet.'

John nodded, 'fine, send me the links.' He stood up brushing himself down and squaring his shoulders, 'just tell the git...tell him to ring me and Molly...take care OK.'

'I will John, I will.' She kissed him on the cheek and asked him to pass on her best wishes to Mary and the baby.

After he'd gone Molly took a last look around before collecting her coat and bag and heading off to work.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMHMH

It was another two days before she heard anything. She'd ended up, as a last resort, contacting Mycroft. He was still out of the country but he assured Molly, via text that he would have agents looking out for Sherlock and that they'd contact Molly if there was any news.

Molly was asleep and dreaming when the call finally came through. The ringing of her phone morphing, initially, into her dream as a car alarm. It stopped momentarily then started again, an insistent, irritating noise dragging her from the depths of sleep.

She finally realised what it was and groped around in the dark for her phone which was sitting atop her bedside cabinet.

'Hello.'

A clear, crisp female voice replied, 'Molly Hooper, my name is Anthea. I am Mr Mycroft Holmes's personal assistant. I am ringing to inform you that Mr Holmes Jnr has been located and is being held in detention.'

Molly started to sit up in bed, her mind springing into alertness, 'what? Why? Can I see him?'

'I am not at liberty to give out details over the phone. However, I'm on my way and will be with you in ten minutes, I can take you too him if you're willing. Can you be ready?'

'Yes, yes of course.'

Molly flung the phone down and switched the light on. She glanced at the phone and groaned lightly 4.17am. Thank you Sherlock!

She dressed quickly in jeans and a jumper, grabbed her cost and went to wait in the lobby of the block of flats until she saw a sleek, black Mercedes pull up. She made her way out and into the car.

When she saw Anthea she recognised her. She had accompanied Mycroft the odd time that he had visited Barts, always hovering in the background seemingly glued to her smartphone. Tonight was no different.

'Where is Sherlock? Is he OK? What has he done?'

Anthea looked up and Molly didn't miss the quick look of sympathy that passed across Anthea"s face. She actually put her phone down in her lap which had the effect of making Molly more scared than she had been previously.

'Doctor Hooper...Molly. I know you are aware of Mr Holmes Jnr's condition.'

'Please just call him Sherlock, it'll be quicker.' Molly knew she came across angry and irritable but it was really just fear gnawing at her.

'Fine. I'm aware you also know that Sherlock is also a recovering addict whether that be drugs or smoking or any of his other vices...I'm sure I don't need to spell out that that is a bad combination.'

Molly had a bad feeling about where this was all heading and she closed her eyes her head dropping forward as she listened. Her hands were clasped so tight in her lap it hurt.

'Mr Holm...Mycroft was concerned after you contacted him and had extra agents sent to monitor Sherlock's situation. They made several reports today culminating in them physically restraining Sherlock and bringing him to our base for detention.'

'What did he do?' Molly tried to talk in a strong voice but it came out as a whisper.

'I'm afraid he killed a man about four hours ago. We believe this wasn't the first, I think you have yourself conducted two or three autopsies recently.'

Molly nodded her head staying silent. Of course she'd recognised the cause of death but she hadn't at any point thought that it might be Sherlock committing the crimes. Why would she, he had always been one of the good guys...hadn't he? She hated the nagging thought in her head which made her question her opinion of him.

The words hung in the car between them. Molly squeezed her eyes shut willing herself not to cry.

'We're here. Doctor Hooper...'

Molly looked at the distinctly unimpressive building that they were parked in front of. Wherever they were it was miles away from the public MI5/MI6 offices in central London.

Molly followed Anthea through the brightly lit establishment. It was obviously primarily a scientific place. There were labs and offices to either side of the main corridor. They silently took a lift down into the basement which was again a sterile white and brightly lit though most of the, what were obviously, cells were in darkness. They stopped at the fifth door on the right.

'He is restrained, for your safety; please ring when you are ready to leave. I'm sure I don't need to advise you that the room is being recorded for both visual and audio.'

Molly nodded to show she understood and then the security officer, who had joined them when they exited the lift, stepped forward and unlocked the door.

Molly took a deep breath and made her way in.

Oh Sherlock what have you done now? I'm sorry for the continuing angst, I sometimes feel as though the characters control themselves rather than me doing it and this is very much one of those occasions.

I will aim to get the next chapter up later on this week. In the meantime please let me know what you think. This is very much a story that you can influence as beyond the next chapter there is no plan. Thank you xx