When Sherlock went to 221b for an overnight bag and some change of clothes for Cheshire, a dark figure walked into her room. She heard the door open and glanced to see if it was Sherlock. "I'm going to make you feel all better, love." the figure spoke. Cheshire wasn't able to fight, let alone stand on steady legs. She found the nurse button and jammed the button multiple times. "We don't need an audience, sweet. Just relax, this will be over quickly." he coaxed. Cheshire panicked and looked for something to defend herself. "Cheshire, is Sherlock here?" Greg had called as he went in the scene. Cheshire was beating someone with her pillows and looked scared. The man rushed away past Greg and was being pursued by the said D.I. Cheshire sighed and relaxed when Greg came back. "Are you okay?!" he asked as he turned the lights on. Cheshire nodded and put a pillow over her head. The tray untouched since Leo the nurse gave it to her earlier. "I wasn't able to catch him. Did you see his face?" Greg asked. Cheshire sighed and took the pillow off. "No. It was dark, I smashed my finger on the nurse call button. You came. End of story. Goodnight." she snapped as she went to sleep. Greg sighed and sat down. The man may come back and he wanted to be sure she was safe. Sherlock came back with a bag and set it down. Greg took him out of the room to have a chat about the unknown man. "What was he wearing?" Sherlock asked. Lestrade sighed and rubbed his face with a tired hand. "It looked to be some type of uniform but I didn't get a good look." Greg said as Sherlock went into the room. Cheshire was in the critical care unit since her fever was extremely high. Right in the center where the killer prowled.
John went to his last patient before checking on Cheshire when he found Leo lying face down on the floor. Blood seeped from a wound on his face. "I need help!" he shouted as he rushed to his friend. A piece of a scalpel was embedded in his eye. "H-he did this." were the last words he muttered.
Sherlock stroked her hair back and kept her calmly asleep with a warm soft blanket wrapped around her. "You know why I hate hospitals?" she randomly asked. Sherlock held her arm and rubbed it with his thumb. "You always seem scared so I deduced it was because you see something I don't see." he answered. Cheshire nodded and hugged his arm. "There's grim reapers, ghosts, and other things." she said in a small voice. Sherlock sighed and wished he could see what she feared. "Leo and the other victims are behind you." she peeped as his arm was squeezed tightly. Sherlock smiled a little in the corner of his lips and sat on her bed. Cheshire, (out of habit and need for security from her brother and his body heat) crawled on his lap and rested her weary head on his chest. "Leo died?" Sherlock asked. He felt her nodded tiredly and boredly braided her hair back. "Killed." she said in a little yawn. Sherlock swore in his head and held his sister close. Ever so lightly, she fell back asleep. Sherlock laid back on the pillows. John peeked inside and smiled when he saw Sherlock asleep with Cheshire curled up next to him. "Sherlock?" he woke him up gently. Last time he accidentally woke Cheshire; he was curled up on the couch with an ice pack healing his crotch. One time she had broken his finger. Sherlock reluctantly woke up to slowly shift Cheshire to his spot and on the pillows to follow John outside to learn that Leo was the latest victim. "She saw Leo and the other victims." Sherlock said quietly. Cheshire didn't prefer her secret being exposed to so many people. Word would get out and people would want her to communicate to their dead loved ones like on those t.v shows she's skimmed through earlier in the week. Sherlock's figured out that being a medium takes a lot of tolerance of the living. Sherlock discussed the situation with John until he heard Cheshire started coughing. "Here. This should help with your cough." John gave her an odd color liquid in a styrofoam cup. Cheshire didn't want it, but Sherlock gave her a look she read as a warning. She drank it down and curled under her pillow to ignore the chanting ghosts. "Get him. Relieve us to Heaven. Give us justice." was all they said. Sherlock saw her reacting to something and patted the pillow she was under. "What are they saying?" he asked. Cheshire groaned and curled around her blanket. "Find him and they will leave." her dry voice spoke. Sherlock looked at John and the doctor left to get to his wife. Their child was just starting to babble and crawl and John had a handful whenever Mary was out.
Sherlock very reluctantly texted Mycroft and didn't move from her room until his elder brother came. "Sherlock, how many times i she going to be sick?" Mycroft questioned as he felt her head. Sherlock rolled his eyes and left. "How are you feeling?" Mycroft asked his sister. Cheshire growled and felt the pillow being taken off of her. "Give it." she whined as she reach for it. Mycroft gave it back and saw her hugging it. "See anything?" he asked. Cheshire sighed and looked around. "No. They left with Sherlock. I'm going back to sleep." she groggily said as she drifted to sleep on the nice warm spot Sherlock's heat made earlier. Mycroft saw her hair was braided back behind her. "Go away." he heard her whisper. Mycroft was about to stand outside when he felt her grab his hand. "Not you. Him." she said motioning to no one at the door. Mycroft figured she was talking about a ghost. "Oh my God. Mycroft, go find Sherlock. Now." she ordered. Mycroft sighed and got a nurse to watch Cheshire while he hunted his brother down. Sherlock was cornered by a rather muscular man and if Mycroft hadn't gotten there, something bad would've happened. "Come on, let's get out of here. Get a drink, get a high, and maybe have a good memory or two." the stranger drunkenly chuckled. Mycroft used the umbrella he had and knocked the man unconscious, breaking it in the process of the blow. "I could handle him." Sherlock stated. Mycroft gave him a look and they started looking for the killer together. They had a few leads, more than they had had in the whole day and a half. So far they had a list of several nurses, doctors, psychiatric patients that had managed to escape the recent days, and some delivery personnel. They got back to see Cheshire not on her bed and the nurse Mycroft left her with bleeding out on the floor. "I need some help here!" Mycroft shouted as he checked for a pulse. Sherlock looked around for his sister to see her hiding under the bed. She was as tightly curled as a viper ready to fight to the last tooth or scale. "Where the Hell were you two, arses?! He came back and the nurse saved me by hiding me!" she shouted as loud as she could. The nurse was thankfully alive and was able to talk to a sketch artist after surgery. Sadley her eye was not able to be saved, but she was thankful her life was saved. "He was tall, strong, and angry. He had this rage I never saw before." she told the sketch artist. Sherlock asked Cheshire if she saw him, but she didn't see anything but his shoes. "That's him." the nurse said as she looked at the drawing. Sherlock, Mycroft, and none of the staff knew who he was.