"Have you retrieved enough of it?" John asked as Sherlock continued to swab, tape, and nearly dismantle the glass that John had drank out of. John still rubbed his head as it ached enormously. Had to have been the Narcan. John couldn't believe that he had actually been unknowingly drugged within their own flat. It was worse that the drug was meant for Molly and not for him. There was no way anyone could have known that he would drink from the glass. Routine would be the death of them it seemed. Sherlock hastily applied the swabs and samples to the insides of their sterile bags and sealed them.

"Yes, I believe so." Sherlock rose, pushing the samples into John's hands and taking his coat from off of the back of the door to apply it. "We need to make haste to St. Bartholomew's."

"Sherlock!" John stuttered. Sherlock stopped momentarily and met his eyes. "We can't just leave Molly and Abigail here with no one to watch them!" Sherlock's eyes widened. He hadn't even thought about it in his haste to find out what was really happening to his wife. "Should I stay and you go?"

"No. Phone Lestrade." Sherlock barked and John was on it before another word could be said. He entered the bedroom, trying his best to be quiet as he did so. Molly and Abigail were both sound asleep and none the wiser of what was happening. Sherlock suddenly felt the anger welling up within him. How dare someone enter my home and attempt to drug my wife? What reasons would one have for doing so? Sherlock hoped their intruder would make a return visit. Merely so that he could be caught and properly dealt with not by Scotland Yard, but by himself alone. John entered the bedroom and motioned for him to join him out in the kitchen. Sherlock glanced back once more upon his sleeping wife and exited the room, closing the door lightly behind him.

"Lestrade is on his way. Should be here in less than ten minutes. He'll keep watch while we do our work at Bart's." John stated. Sherlock nodded and headed for his scarf. He stood wondering if there was anything else within the flat that needed examined. Surely if the water was being tampered with...his eyes widened once more.

"The medicine." Sherlock grabbed John by the shoulders as he often did when he had just come to a realization.

"What about it?"

"The only other thing she is ingesting that we are not, John." Sherlock's mouth formed a thin hard line. He was livid. He turned to enter the bathroom and searched the cabinet for the array of medicines belonging to Molly. He pulled out a few of each and placed them in their own sample bags before replacing them in the cabinet.

"Bloody hell, Sherlock. You don't think-" John stopped himself and glanced up at Sherlock.

"Perhaps the reason Molly's become so ill is not because she was susceptible to developing cancerous brain lesions." Sherlock's blood was nearly boiling. John swallowed hard as the idea crept and found a place within his mind as well. "Perhaps its because someone's been poisoning her body."

"But why would someone do that, Sherlock?" John asked, absolutely baffled. He couldn't understand why anyone would try to hurt Molly. For any reason.

"There are many people in this world, John, who only live to hurt others." Sherlock sighed as Lestrade bounded up the stairs, Mrs. Hudson following soon after shutting the door downstairs.

"What can I do, boys?" Lestrade asked, completely straight faced, hands on his hips as he listened intently.

"We need you to watch over Molly and the baby while we go do some emergency lab work at Bart's." John answered.

"What's with the emergency?" Lestrade questioned.

"We believe that she might have been drugged or poisoned." Sherlock answered. Lestrade's face fell.

"No fucking way."

"Undoubtedly. With what, we don't know yet. Hence the run to Bart's. We had a break in the other night and believe the two are connected." John told Lestrade and the Detective Inspector looked completely out of sorts.

"Why the hell didn't you phone me?!"

"Because we were going to handle the situation ourselves." Sherlock was quickly growing tired of the back and forth. "So, if you wouldn't mind, please watch the flat and my wife and child while we are gone? Shouldn't take longer than an hour."

Mrs. Hudson stood by with worry lining her face. John gave her a quick hug and mumbled something about caring for the baby while they were gone as Molly was not doing as well that evening. She patted his hand reassuringly and with a glance the two men left the flat and proceeded to the lab to find out exactly what it was they were dealing with.


Molly felt the presence even before she attempted to open her heavy eyes. She felt the presence of a man rounding the bed, although he didn't feel close. Am I dreaming? Molly wondered to herself. She fluttered open her eyes, finding it a tad easier than it had been in previous dreams to do so. She saw nothing but the darkness of the bedroom and the outline of what stood within it.

The darkened silhouette of a man in a suit stood watching over the crib that was in the corner of the room. Her eyes widened a bit, noting that the man was the man from her supposive dream and not John or Sherlock or anyone else she really recognized. She opened her mouth but found that no sound came out. She felt the tendrils of panic forming deep within her and spreading throughout her body, taking hold of her from the inside out and charging her with fear. The man was leaning now, as if he meant to pick up Abigail and Molly could only beg from within her mind for the figure not to do so. Don't touch my baby! Don't take my daughter from me! Anger mingled with the terror and heightened every sense. The man seemed to hear her silent plea and stood up straight, turning to walk towards the bedside once more.

Molly's eyes gazed wide up into the face of a figure she had met many times before. "Molly dear, it seems your husband and his companion have figured out my punch line." The voice was laced with amusement and Molly's brow creased in anger. She wanted nothing more but to scream at the man, to rise up and wrap her clammy hands about his neck and squeeze. "I suppose we're just going to have to speed up the process. Sorry about this love, but it'll be a lot less painful than what you've experienced so far. Call it a mercy killing." The man was moving within his suit pocket. Molly's eyes widened in fear and pain as she felt the needle stab her neck and the burning of whatever was within seeping into her tissue and veins.

All sound and sense was fading. Molly glanced once more towards the crib, towards her child. Her last fleeting thoughts were to be of beautiful Abigail and the plea that the suited man would leave her alone. That Sherlock or John would come in and see that something was wrong and rescue them or at least do something with the man that had just injected her with something.

Gunfire lit up the area towards the door that lead to the rest of the flat. The man beside her pulled out the syringe, dropping it in the floor, and fell backwards. Molly's eyes noted the strong figure of Lestrade as he entered the room, yelling something that was incoherent at the man he'd just fired at and then running through the room. Muffled crying of a child. The shots must have definitely frightened Abigail. Molly could think nothing more as the world went black.


"Just as I thought." Sherlock sat back, somewhat defeated as he noted the lab results upon the screen in Molly's lab. "Molly's been slowly poisoned with a mixture of a chemical compound I've not seen before." Sherlock pointed this out to John. He was usually good about reading labs, being a doctor and all, but these results baffled him.

"It shows elevated levels of mercury poisoning, but what is the other three chemicals there?" John asked.

Sherlock could only shake his head and steeple his hands under his chin. "We need to get these results over to her doctor to see if this is a cause for her illness. I could almost bet that it is." Sherlock leaned forward and rubbed his eyes. "I hope it is."

John's phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at it, noting the number, and his face fell. Sherlock noticed. "It's Lestrade." He answered. "Hello? Yes. Really? My God..." John's face paled. Sherlock stood up so suddenly that the chair fell backwards and clanged noisily across the floor. "You've called the ambulance? Alright. We'll be here." John hung up and hung his head. "Someone entered the flat and attacked Molly. He's called for the ambulance."

"Why's he called for an ambulance?" Sherlock asked, his eyes racing back and forth as they studied John's face and reactions.

"She's not breathing well, Sherlock." John gulped and fought back his own sadness that was deep within him and eating at him to escape. Sherlock took off, John quickly following him, as he made his way down to the ambulance bay. "What are you doing, Sherlock?"

Sherlock grabbed the nearest medical worker as they raced towards their ambulance. "Are you responding to a call at 221B Baker Street?" He shook the man. "Tell me!"

"Yes, what the-" The man became angry as he tried to loose himself from Sherlock's grip.

"We're going with you. That's our flat and that's my wife." Sherlock growled as they climbed into the back of the ambulance. The man didn't argue, only climbed in and directed his partner towards the address.


Any ideas yet on who you think the man that Molly recognized is? What's been done to her now? Will she survive? Next chapter, the boys arrive at the flat in time to see what state Molly is in and survey the scene of the crime.

I know I keep playing with your hearts my readers, but what's a good story without some suspenseful ups and downs? That's why you need to read each chapter, to see which ups and downs we will experience once more. I hope that for those of you who were thankful for me portraying the effects of cancer and the effect on the lives of all that come in contact with the ailing one, I've not strayed from that fact, only brought a bit of mysterious storyline into play. I hope this doesn't discourage you from continuing to read, as I will still portray the emotions and struggles they all experience.

Also, I like to try and respond to all of my reviews, as I love my readers and I'm so excited when you review, but if any of you have a question, something you'd like to see me put into the story, or would just like to converse please please feel free to email me at sarahouse85 as sometimes I have no way to respond to guests or to those of you who are on and it doesn't give me the conversation bubble.

Thank you all so much for continuing to read! Stay tuned for the next chapter! ;)