Hi everyone! Sorry for not updating sooner. Life has been busy! This chapter deals with the aftermath of the explosion and I really hope you enjoy it.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, followed and favourited this story - your continued support is greatly motivating and appreciated!

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Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.

Chapter 12

"Sherlock! Sherlock! Damn it – Mary, call Mycroft and get a paramedic up here," John's voice was muffled and low as Sherlock slowly came to. The consulting detective could hear the hurried footsteps of Mary leaving the room and descending the staircase. Sherlock's attention turned to his dear friend and took in John's worried face.

"I'm alright," Sherlock rasped as he struggled to sit upright, thankful for John's supportive arm around his back. His head ached and he was finding it difficult to organise his thoughts. "How long was I out?"

"We're not sure, we only just arrived. Mrs. Hudson phoned to tell us that there'd been an explosion. What happened, Sherlock? Where's Molly?" Sherlock's eyes widened. Molly! His heart threatening to choke him as it lodged in his throat he pushed himself to his feet, grateful for John's steadying hand as he stumbled. He was overcome with a coughing fit, his ribs aching as he straightened to his full height.

"He's got her," Sherlock said gruffly and John frowned.

"Moriarty," John stated, though disbelief clouded his tone. Sherlock nodded and moved towards the kitchen where his coat had landed in the blast. He winced as he bent to pick it up, his ribs protesting, and he fished out his phone, a plan already formulating in his mind.

"Yes. Moriarty's right hand man paid us a call. He took Molly." His hand clenched tightly on his phone at the thought of Molly in the hands of those psychopaths once more. He lifted his head to see John make his way through the debris towards him.

"I will get her back and end Moriarty's game once and for all." Sherlock said with finality, his voice deep and rough with emotion. His light blue eyes connected with John's darker ones. "I need your help, John. And Mary," he added even as John gave him a firm nod.

"You have it. And I can guarantee that Mary would help whether you asked her or not." The two friends shared a look of understanding just as Mary hurried back up the stairs, a paramedic and Greg Lestrade right behind her. When Mary saw Sherlock standing she rushed over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist in relief. She muttered an apology when he winced and drew back, moving to stand beside her husband, grasping his hand tightly with her own.

Sherlock waved the paramedic aside when the young man tried to clean the cut on the side of his head, his eyes glued to his phone in his hand as it vibrated.

"Mycroft's sending a car," Lestrade said as he moved further into the room, his eyes wide as he took in the destruction of the flat. John nodded though his gaze snapped to Sherlock as the man made a strangled sound in his throat, his eyes locked onto the phone lit up in his palm. John felt Mary shift beside him.

"Sherlock? What is it?" She moved towards the tall man, her hand fluttering to her mouth when she spotted the image that Sherlock had received in a text message, horrified and angry tears filling her eyes. John and Lestrade quickly moved to follow, both men cursing softly as the image of a bound and gagged Molly Hooper filled their vision. The pathologist was tied to a chair with a piece of cloth across her mouth, her auburn hair matted with the blood that covered the left side of her face. Her eyes were wide but, what was truly frightening to the group, they were completely expressionless, as if the young woman had given up.

John noticed that Sherlock's hand was turning white with how hard he was gripping the phone and the younger man was trembling. He looked up at him and was shocked at the expression on Sherlock's face. His jaw was clenched so hard John was surprised he hadn't cracked his teeth but it was the eyes that scared him – they were almost colourless, the pupils pinpricks, filled with a rage John had never seen in them before, not even when Mrs. Hudson had been attacked.

"Sherlock," John said firmly, grasping the younger man's arm to gain his attention. He waited until Sherlock looked at him and tried not to shiver at the pure hatred that filled those pale eyes. "Do you know where she is?" Sherlock stared at John for a long moment before he shook himself slightly, a shuddering breath escaping him. He refocused his gaze to the image on his phone, taking in what he could see behind Molly. It only took him seconds.

"He's taken her to where it all began, John," Sherlock answered. John's eyes widened.

"The pool." Sherlock nodded in confirmation and began to slide his coat on. The sound of a phone ringing drew everyone's attention to Lestrade as he answered it. Moments later he hung up.

"The car's arrived. It will take you anywhere you need to go," Lestrade said and everyone went into motion. The paramedic stood to the side for a moment before hurrying downstairs, finally realizing he was not needed. The rest of the group were just about to follow when Sherlock's phone vibrated once more. The consulting detective paused in the doorway as he lifted the phone. It was another image, followed by a text message from what John could see. Revulsion and rage filled the ex-army doctor as he took in the image: Molly was still bound and gagged but this time Moriarty was beside her, his lips pressed against her cheek. It was the helplessness in her eyes and the single tear streaking her cheek that caused his heart to ache and looking at Sherlock John could only imagine how the man felt.

"Do you miss us? We miss you! It's your move, Sherlock."

"Sherlock?" Mary gasped softly beside him when Sherlock turned and John saw those pale blue eyes glistening brightly, his face white, his lips pressed tightly together. John's own breath caught in his throat at his friend's expression but he knew that Sherlock needed him right now. He reached forward and grasped Sherlock's shoulder.

"We'll get her back, mate," John said firmly, locking his gaze with Sherlock's. "Whatever you need us to do, we will help you get her back." After a moment Sherlock nodded, his eyes bright, and then turned, striding out of the room and down the stairs. John shared a quick, determined look with his wife and Lestrade before following after his best friend.

SHSHSHSHSHSH

The car took them to the Diogenes Club and they were ushered through to a private conference room where Mycroft Holmes waited for them. Plans to retrieve Molly and eliminate Moriarty once and for all were made quickly and efficiently. Sherlock was ruthless in his delivery and demanded that Mycroft didn't make his move until Sherlock was ready. It surprised John somewhat how quickly Mycroft capitulated. He'd heard enough from Sherlock how sentiment was found on the losing side but the fact that Sherlock had changed these last few months, particularly since his return from the dead, and now Mycroft was on board made John realize how much everything had changed.

John was brought out of his thoughts when the British Government stood and moved out from behind his desk. The older man tugged at the sleeves of his suit jacket for a moment and then came to stand before his younger brother.

"Be careful, brother mine," Mycroft murmured, his normally mocking expression nowhere to be seen, his blue eyes gentle. "My men will be there as soon as you call." The younger Holmes stared at his brother before nodding.

"Thank you," Sherlock whispered and then turned on his heel, leaving the room with John and Mary behind him. As they made it into the street a sleek black car pulled up to the curb. As Sherlock stepped forward to enter the vehicle Mary reached out and grasped his arm. His head flicked up to look at her seconds before she wrapped her arms around him. He remained tense in her embrace but his hands lightly touched her back.

"We'll get her back, Sherlock," Mary said, determination colouring her voice. "There can be no other outcome." As they parted Mary looked up into Sherlock's face, her heart twisting at his expression. His heart pounded beneath her hand as he bent his head, brushing a kiss against her forehead. Her eyes stung as he turned away and ducked into the waiting vehicle Mycroft had arranged. Mary turned to her husband who quickly stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms. They held each other tightly for a moment before sharing a sweet kiss.

"You be careful, you hear? And don't worry about Lizzy – Mrs. Hudson will take good care of her." John assured her softly and Mary smiled tightly.

"I will and I know. You have your gun?" John patted his hip in answer.

"You?"

"Mycroft is supplying one." John nodded and quickly pressed another kiss against her lips. Their heads turned to the car for a moment.

"He really loves her," John murmured and Mary sighed, nodding.

"He really does. It will destroy him if something happens to Molly." Mary looked back up at her husband. "Please, please, be careful." John pressed one last kiss to her lips.

"Love you," He murmured as he let go of her and moved towards the car.

"Love you, too." Mary called softly as he slipped into the car, the vehicle pulling away from the curb before the door had even shut. Mary let out a shuddering sigh, her thoughts briefly going to her young daughter and then moving onto poor Molly. She knew that Sherlock's plan was sound but something could go wrong. She straightened her shoulders just as another black car pulled up and as she got in she could only hope that the plan would go off without a hitch.

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