*Charlie's POV*

I was freezing. I had no clue where I was, but it felt like huge open space. My arms were tied above my head and it felt like I was hanging from a hook. Unfortunately, it was high enough my feet barely touched the floor. I was trying to stay clam for the sake of Bean, but I was failing miserably. I was hoping that the info I had sent Sherlock was enough for him to track me down and hoping I would get to see him again.

I heard the tap-tap of footsteps walking closer and an amused chuckled. The footsteps sounded to be right next to me when they finally stopped and I felt someone standing next to me, watching me. A moment later, the blindfold was removed and I was able to see I was in some sort of abandoned factory building. There was no light shining in, all I could see was darkness out the windows, but it could be any time seeing as it was the middle of winter. The man standing before me was hard worn, with old, torn clothing and a cap. His face was marked and his eyes were dark and darkly promising. I couldn't help myself from trying to back away from him. This is not someone I wanted to be in a room with and I prayed to God that help would come quickly. I didn't want to think about what he was going to do to me.

"Nice of you to join me, Miss Brennan," he stated, his voice scratchy as he looked me over. "I was hoping I'd get to see you soon." I was silent as I watched him, trying to keep myself from freezing up in fear. This was far worse than when Moran had kidnapped me, I had Bean to think about. "It's too bad really."

"Who are you?" I managed to squeak out.

He chortled, "You know exactly who I am. You're brilliant detective boyfriend has been on my tail since I came out. Little does he know, the other three were just for fun, a little practice too. You're the main reason Moran set me free. Gave me a pretty penny to for it."

"S-still doesn't answer my question."

"I'm not here to answer your questions. I'm here to do what I was broken out to do. Now, where do we start…" He pulled a knife out of the back of his jeans and ran his thumb along the blade. I struggled to try to get my hands free. "They call me The Carver for a reason. Did they tell you the nature of the my other works?" I didn't answer. He took a step closer, "Medical school is nothing compared to the hands on experience you can get by branching out on your own. A lot messier and nosier too. It's quite enjoyable hearing them all beg and cry. I can see why Jack the Ripper enjoyed it. Where to start…"

"P-please, j-just let me go," I whimpered as I felt the tears start burning in the corner of my eyes.

"Can't do that. This is too perfect of an opportunity," he grinned. He placed the blade on my wrist, pulling slightly on it. I felt something wet start trickling slowly down my forearm. "Bleeding out through the wrists is one option to start, or your carotid, the femoral is a good one too." He seemed to knick each spot as he worked his way around with the knife, even cutting through my pants. I struggled away from him when he lifted up my shirt and placed the knife on my stomach, "Oh there's the abdominal cavity. I wonder what we'd find in there? Care to find out?" I swung my knees up to try to get him to back away, receiving a hard hit across the face for my efforts. I bit my lip and glared murder at the man threatening my Bean. "That's not very nice my dear." He grabbed my hair and pulled my hair back and pushed the knife up against my stomach. "I could end all this right now if I wanted to, but I'd rather you beg first. What will it take to get you to beg some more?" I kept silent, glaring death at the man. "Then I think it's about time we met the darling little parasite don't you?"

"Don't," I snarled through clenched teeth.

"Sweetheart, there's nothing you can do to stop me."

A shot rang out, echoing throughout the empty space. It took me a moment to realize the man standing before me had gone slightly slack jawed before releasing my hair and falling, the knife gliding across the skin on my abdomen. I started hyperventilating as everything seemed to happen so fast. I didn't take notice to the figures running towards me, only to the dead man that now lay on the floor as blood pooled through the hole his head. I could feel myself shaking uncontrollably and didn't even register that my arms were lifted down and someone was holding me, wrapping a woolen coat around me. It wasn't until the person holding me moved to stand in front of me, forcing me to make eye contact did I realize I was being spoken too.

"Charlotte, you're ok."

"Sherlock?" I squeaked out, my voice almost inaudible. He leaned forward to kiss my forehead shakily as I started going hysterical in his arms.

"I've got you," he said rubbing my back to warm me up as I shivered, my teeth chattering together, tears streaming down my cheeks. "John, she's bleeding. Lestrade, is the ambulance on its way?"

I shook my head, "No. No. No. I'm f-f-fine. N-no ambulance."

"Charlotte," Sherlock said placing his hands on either side of my face as I stared manically back at him, "You're bleeding. You're in shock. You need to go get looked at."

"J-john can do it here or better yet, the flat," I stammered.

"John!" Sherlock growled turning to see where his best friend was. John ran up in my eyesight then, a look of relief present on his face. "Tell her she needs to go to the hospital."

"I AM NOT GOING TO THE BLOODY HOSPITAL!" I yelled shocking them both and the few officers that were present. Lestrade was on the phone.

"Ok," John said calmer than what I was feeling. "Sit down over here and let me see."

They both led me over to a crate and sat me down on it . John gently grabbed my hands and looked at the cuts that were slowly bleeding and tilting my head up to look at the knick on my neck. He then checked my thigh and my stomach before making a face at Sherlock.

"None of them are deep, they're luckily just scratches," he sighed as Lestrade came over to check on us. "She doesn't necessarily need to go if she doesn't want to."

"The baby-"

"Is fine," I cut Sherlock off as I continued to shiver under his coat and my own. "Trust me, Bean is kicking away from all the excitement. I just want to go home, sit in front of the damn fire with a cuppa tea. Is that too much to ask right now?"

"Charlotte," Sherlock pleaded bending down to sit in front of me, taking my shaking hands in his own.

"Please…" I whispered as tears threatened to spill again. "I just want to go home."

He looked into my eyes for a few seconds before a tear started falling down my cheek. He reached up and wiped it away before nodding his head and leaning forward to kiss my forehead again. He stood up and talked quietly to John and Lestrade. I couldn't make out what they were saying and at that moment in time I didn't really care. I saw John pull out his phone and walk away from the two of them, the phone to his ear. Sherlock had come back over to sit next to me wrapping his arm around my shoulder. I reached and grabbed his other hand and clenched it tightly.

"Lestrade said we can leave shortly. We have to wait for the rest of his team to get here and then he said he's going to take us home. John is calling Mrs. Hudson to have her get a fire going in the flat." I was too cold to acknowledge he was talking. He seemed to realize that and just pulled me in closer, kissing my forehead as I shivered in his arms.

An ambulance arrived a few minutes later. John hurried over to talk to them and came over to us afterwards, blankets and what looked like a medicine kit in his grasp. He stopped in front of us and handed the blankets to Sherlock who immediately put them over my shoulders.

"Charlie, let me clean up those cuts for you," John said kneeling down in front of me. I nodded and uncurled my hands for him. "How you holding up?"

I shook my head, "Cold."

"Otherwise?" John pushed.

"John, let her go," Sherlock ordered. John glanced at him before going back to tending my cuts quietly.

The next hour I felt like I was on autopilot. I was asked questions which I remember giving short responses to, and was so thankful when Sherlock finally helped me into the back of Lestrade's cruiser and made the drive home. I still had his coat draped over mine, but the shivering wasn't as bad. I was still cold as hell though. Sherlock kept my hand in his the entire time, refusing to sever the link. The only time he let go was after he sat me down in the chair in front of the fire while he talked to Lestrade down by the front door downstairs. John made tea for me as I stared into the flames.

"Here," he said handing me a saucer and cup. I reached up with shaky hands and took it from him. "How are you?"

"Cold."

"Besides cold?" he asked quietly sitting down across from me.

"Um, not sure yet," I mumbled.

"Ok," he said nodding. Sherlock came back a minute later. John stood up, "I got her some tea. I'm going to head down over to the pub and let Mary and George know she's ok."

"Thank you," Sherlock replied as John nodded at me and left. I heard Sherlock walk over and kneel in front of me. "Warming up?"

"A bit maybe."

He stayed kneeling in front of me for a while, unsure of what to say. I placed my tea and saucer on the table next to the chair and slid off the chair, wrapping my arms around Sherlock as he fell back to sit on the floor. He wrapped his arms around me and pressed his lips against my head, breathing in my scent as tears started again. I curled up into a ball the best I could as he held me.

"Sh, it's ok," he said quietly. "I have you now."

"He was going to hurt Bean," I stammered.

"I know, but not anymore. Your home safe and sound, I promise you," he said holding me closer, his embrace tightening around me. The last thing I remember was Sherlock whispering in my ear that everything was ok as the stress of the last few hours took its toll and I fell asleep.