Wilf awoke with a start. For a moment, he had no idea where he was, or how he'd gotten there. Hadn't he just been in the police station with the Doctor?

Then he remembered. He was in a spare room in the TARDIS. The search for the second car had started to drag on late into the night, so the Doctor had offered him, Mrs. Hudson, and Sylvia rooms on the TARDIS for the night. Wilf had stayed up as late as he could to be helpful, but in the end, he'd taken the Doctor's offer.

As he began to sit up, a light on the ceiling turned on, letting him see the room for the first time. Last night, he had been dead tired, and the room had been dark. He hadn't been in the mood to look around. But now, he looked around the room with confusion and no short amount of awe. The walls and ceilings were a warm salmon, the same color as the walls in his home. For that matter, all the furniture, the bed and the dressers and everything else, and even the layout of the room, were all either from his room or what he would prefer his room to look like. It wasn't his room at home, but it felt like his. It felt comfortable. The best part had to be the window that stretched all the way across one wall. Instead of showing a backyard or a wall or something usual like that, it showed space. Just a window-view into outer space. Wilf felt a thrill of wonder at the stars and galaxies and colors that seemed close enough to touch

Wilf remembered the Doctor mentioning that his ship was sentient and to ask her for directions around the hallways if he needed to, but he hadn't expected something like this. He couldn't help but feel touched at the gesture. As he crossed over to the door, he put his hand briefly on the door frame, giving it a light pat. "Thanks," he said warmly. A warm-sounding hum echoed in the room, making him grin in delight. Aliens and time travel and living space ships. How could life get any better?

Once he was out of the room and into the hallways again, it only took a minute or two of wandering before he found himself in the console room. No one was in there, so he made his way to the front door and pulled it open.

They were still parked in Scotland Yard, he was relieved to see. Detectives were milling about, working at their desks or talking in small groups. Judging by the light coming in through the window, it was late morning. He felt his stomach clench. Only a few hours left then.

Wilf noticed the Doctor and Sherlock sitting behind a computer a bit away, Mrs. Hudson near them with a cup of coffee in hand. He made his way over to them, calling out, "Any luck?"

The Doctor looked up, looking haggard and grim. Wilf had a feeling he hadn't slept at all last night. "Not exactly," he said wearily.

"We found the car," Sherlock explained, "But there's a hitch. It's been given a shimmer."

"Shimmer?" Wilf repeated with confusion.

Sherlock waved his hand dismissively. "It's a visual cloak of sorts, a hologram that lays over and object, only a bit more complicated. It's alien technology. An alien can wear it and appear human. Apparently, they've rigged it to cloak the car at intervals between security cameras. In one camera's view, it'll appear to be a red convertible, by the time the next camera picks it up, it's a blue minivan. It's impossible to track."

Wilf could see the fear in the Doctor's eyes, and in Sherlock's as well. Time was running out for their friends. He didn't know how he could possibly help, but he did the best to muster a reassuring smile. "We'll find them," he assured the travelers. The Doctor gave a weak smile back, but Sherlock ignored him completely, turning his attention back to the screen.

"Grandad!" He turned to see Donna and John coming out of the lounge room, both with coffee mugs in hand. Donna's arm was in a sling, but she was smiling and walking.

Wilf crossed over to her, pulling her into a gentle one-armed hug. As he pulled back, he asked, "How's my girl feeling today?"

"Better," Donna assured him. "Still wish I could give those bastards who shot me something to think about, but nevermind that." Her smile faded, replaced by an expression of worry. "Anything new about finding Molly?"

He shook his head. "Sorry sweetheart." Donna and John shared a worried glance, then made their way over to Sherlock and the Doctor. Wilf watched them for a moment, feeling a pang of guilt. His Donna was safe now, but their other friends were still in danger. If they didn't find them soon, they weren't going to make it. They didn't have very long.

SCENEBREAK

Molly knew they didn't have very long. She couldn't tell how long they'd been in the cell; it felt like hours, maybe a day, she couldn't tell in the darkness. The gas had come three more times since that first hit, each time leaving them more weak and drained than the last. She knew that if the gas came a fifth time, they weren't going to live through it.

She was currently sitting on the ground, leaning heavily back against the door of the cell. Greg was beside her; she could hear his ragged breathing. Her own chest felt like there were a thousand needles stabbing into it every time she took a breath, her throat felt like someone had rubbed it all over with sandpaper. Her whole body felt sort of heavy, except for her head, which was eerily light. She knew that unconsciousness wasn't far off. After that...

"Molls?" A hand brushed against hers in the darkness. Even though every movement sent shooting pain through her chest, she entwined her fingers around his, gripping his hand as tightly as she could manage.

"Yeah, Greg?"

"Thanks for being here."

Molly let out a raspy chuckle, immediately regretting it as her throat clenched in agony. "Not like I had a choice. Neither of us did."

She heard him shift slightly, but she couldn't bother to look over at him. "You know what I mean," he said softly. "Thanks for letting me be a part of all this."

The companion sighed. "Maybe if I hadn't, you wouldn't be dying with me now."

"Probably not," Greg admitted. "But we all have to go sometime." His hand gripped hers, his thumb rubbing softly against the back of her hand. Molly was surprised at the gesture, but she certainly didn't mind it.

Molly closed her eyes. She wanted to object, say they were going to make it out, but she didn't have it in her. They could barely move, how were they going to survive this? She didn't want to lie to him, or to herself.

Better to enjoy the moments they had left, and keep the fear and dark thoughts at bay a while longer.

SCENEBREAK

"There has to be something we missed!"

"Like what?" Sherlock snapped. "We can't track the car. It's impossible. You're the one who pointed out the shimmer. You're the one who said you could see through them, can't you tell which car it is?"

The Doctor shook his head. "Not over camera, and not with the kind of quality recording we have. But that's not what I meant." He pulled up a London map on the screen, using a drawing program to encircle the area Sherlock had indicated earlier. "Come on, Sherlock, let's do this your way. Deduce where they went."

Sherlock glared at him, snarking, "Sure, I'll just pull new evidence out of the air to deduce."

"We have new evidence. We know more now. Anything, Sherlock, anything we've learned since we started. Can you think of anything?"

"Fine!" Sherlock whirled away from him for a moment, pacing slightly. "Well, we know we were right, there were two sets of kidnappers, and Molly and Greg were taken together. I asked Andor and Martin, and they said they were paid a rather large amount to kidnap them by Moriarty's network, but they never actually met Moriarty himself. Apparently the network was very specific about where to bring them."

The Doctor shook his head. "Yes, but those two were thugs with guns. This is different." He pulled up the security footage again, gazing at the car with the shimmer. "The shimmer, the knock-out blast wave, they're all alien technology. Way more than you could just scrounge up in a few months from what falls to Earth. Whoever had this has had it for a while, and knows what to do with it."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "You think aliens took them?"

The Time Lord hesitated. "Maybe, but I doubt it. Moriarty would've wanted to make this a fair game. Well, you know what I mean. Besides, if they were aliens, they would've teleported them or taken them with a spaceship, they wouldn't have bothered putting a shimmer on a car. No, these are humans, humans who know how to use alien technology."

Sherlock froze, eyes widening. "It'll be somewhere you know, Doctor," he realized aloud.

The Doctor looked at him with a furrowed brow. "What do you mean?"

The detective began speaking in rapid-fire, firing off his deductions in quick succession. "Moriarty sent John and Donna to Carl Power's house. He picked that to get to me. He, he wanted to remind me how close he could hit to home, how he could worm his way into my life and tear every part of it down. He's going to do the same to you, Doctor. Molly and Lestrade are being held somewhere you know."

Somewhere he knew? The Doctor's mind immediately start racing, searching through everywhere on Earth that he had visited. "It's got to be somewhere with alien technology stored up. Somewhere that has the technology to track the TARDIS. Somewhere –" He cut himself off abruptly, feeling something in his chest clench painfully.

Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

Of course. It had to be there. Of all the places he had to go, the places he never wanted to go again, Moriarty had to go and force his hand. He tried to ignore the clench of pain in his hearts as he said in a low voice, "I know where they are."

Ignoring Sherlock's questioning look, he started off toward the lounge, where the rest of their group were currently sitting around. They had all been taking turns watching the screen, and since it was Sherlock and the Doctor's turn, the others were taking a break. The Doctor pulled the door open, walking in with Sherlock right behind him. Sylvia jumped slightly when the door was yanked open, and the other four looked up with interest. "I know where Molly and Lestrade are being held."

Donna's expression became heavy with relief. "Oh thank god. Where are they?"

The Doctor didn't answer. "John, is Donna's arm going to be alright to come with us?"

John shrugged. "I wouldn't recommend it, but the wound shouldn't re-open."

He turned his attention to the woman in question. "Are you up for coming with us."

"Of course! I'm not sitting out on this one," Donna said, sounding outraged at the idea.

"Donna!" Sylvia protested. "You just got shot for pity's sake. You're not going anywhere."

Donna snapped, "Molly's still in danger. I'm going."

"Good," the Doctor said, ignoring Sylvia's glare. "John, you coming?"

The doctor nodded. "Molly and Lestrade might need medical help."

"Right. Let's go." As he pushed out the door, he could feel his hearts pounding in fear. He had never wanted to go back, but right now, Molly needed him. He wouldn't lose her. He wouldn't.

SCENEBREAK

Molly felt the fingers around hers loosen, the hand around hers going limp. Fear spiked in her chest. "Greg?" she called out hoarsely. No response.

More panicked now, she called out again, "Greg!" He didn't respond, and his hand was totally limp in hers now. She grabbed his arm, pulling his torso somewhat awkwardly onto her lap. The detective inspector lay there like a ragdoll, unresponsive to anything Molly tried to wake him up. Even in her acceptance of oncoming death, she still felt panic blazing through her at the thought of Greg's death. "Come on, wake up," she pleaded.

After several moments of useless pleading, she closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the door. "Doctor!" she called out as loudly as she could manage. "Donna! Sherlock! Someone!" She didn't know if she believed in them coming anymore, but she had to try. For Greg, and for herself.

SCENEBREAK

The Doctor tried to land them on one of the lower levels, where he thought they might be more likely to store prisoners. He really had. But his thoughts had been on that room, that damn room, so even though he hated the thought of ever stepping foot in there again, that was where the TARDIS landed.

When he opened the TARDIS door and looked out, he felt like something had punched him in the gut. It looked exactly the same as it had that day. The memories were flooding through his brain, drowning everything else out, the memories that he tried to keep buried in the back of his mind, where he kept the Time War and everything else he couldn't bear to remember.

Donna stepped out after him, looking around with confusion. "I thought you said Molly was here?" John and Sherlock followed after, but the Doctor didn't pay them any attention. His gaze was focused on one very specific spot.

"She is," the Doctor told her distractedly. "Somewhere, probably on one of the lower floors."

"Then why didn't we land there?" Sherlock asked irritably. His gaze was darting around the room, trying to take everything in, probably trying to figure out exactly where in London they were by the type of paint they used on the walls.

Donna, however, was looking at the Doctor now. She seemed to have realized that something was wrong, really wrong. "Doctor?" she asked softly. "What is it? Where are we?"

The Time Lord found himself walking forward, toward that wall, that stupid, infuriating wall. The wall that had closed him off from the one he cared about the most. "Torchwood," he said dully. "We're in Torchwood."

SCENEBREAK

Torchwood? Sherlock had definitely heard the name before. He ran a quick search through his memories before finding it. "You mean where Jack and his team work?" he asked.

The Doctor didn't look at him. He was standing in front of the vast, white wall, facing away from them, but he could see the turmoil and pain the Doctor was in by the set of his shoulders and the hitch in his voice. "No, that's a different branch of Torchwood," he told the detective. "His group operates in Cardiff. This is the Torchwood that participated in the Battle of Canary Wharf, and were destroyed by it. This is all that remains of Torchwood London."

It made sense, Sherlock supposed. From what he'd heard from Jack and the Doctor, Torchwood had been created to study alien artifacts and keep Earth safe from alien attackers. It was logical to suppose that they had alien technology lying around, fine-tuned over the years for human use. And since Torchwood London had been disbanded after the battle of Canary Wharf, that made it the perfect place to hide someone. They probably had highly advanced cells to keep people locked in.

As he was running through the logical deductions, John and Donna were apparently thinking along different, more emotional lines. "Are you alright, mate?" John asked the Doctor gently. He and Donna were hanging back behind the Doctor, watching him with concern. With a start, Sherlock remembered that the reason Moriarty would have chosen this place to hide Molly and Lestrade was because this was somewhere that meant something to the Doctor.

"I... It's just, I lost someone here," the Doctor said quietly. "A friend. She ended the battle of Canary Wharf, and I lost her."

Sherlock could hear the pain and loss in the Doctor's tone, still strong even after all this time, apparently. He remembered vague mentions on the Doctor's part, and Molly's explanation of why he had let her join him on the TARDIS. Because he had lost Rose Tyler. The detective didn't know much about the mysterious Rose, but it was obvious from the way the Doctor was acting now that he loved her. Why else would her loss hurt this much?

For once, he really didn't know what to say. Normally, he might have snarked or gone into a deduction rant about the Doctor's feelings, but right now, he could understand that worry, that pain of loss. He had lost John Watson once, and he knew that he could never do that again. He looked over at the doctor, feeling a warmth thrill of relief at seeing him alive and well in front of him. But for several long months during the Year, he had thought he would never see John again. There was nothing to say to that kind of pain.

He'd nearly lost Donna too. When she'd gotten shot, for one horrible moment, he thought she'd been killed. But she was fine, and though he'd never admit it to anyone, he was immensely relieved. Donna was his friend, more than he ever would've thought possible when he'd met the headstrong ginger. Molly was his friend too, and the Doctor, even if their friendship mostly consisted of them always trying to one-up the other. He could understand friendship now, and loss. What would it be like for the Doctor when they all left him, whenever that time may be?

Sherlock shook his head to clear his thoughts. He may not be able to help the Doctor with his loss of Rose. But Molly was in here somewhere, and she was running out of time. He could help the Doctor focus on that. "Doctor, where do you think we should look for Molly?" he asked pointedly.

That finally seemed to snap the Doctor out of his trance. He looked back at Sherlock with a somewhat dazed expression, before pulling himself together. "Right. This way."

SCENEBREAK

Donna wasn't sure what to be more worried about, the Doctor's blue-screen moment back in the room with the blank wall, or how easilySherlock of all people had pulled him out of it. But right now, her main worry was finding Molly, so she chose to focus on that instead.

They had moved down to some of the lower levels of the Torchwood building. It was darker in here, with dimly flickering lights. There were some signs of the carnage of the Battle of Canary Wharf to be seen even down here. There were holes blasted in the bricked walls, scorch marks on the ceilings and floors. She didn't know much about the battle, but clearly whatever had been fighting it had been fairly powerful. She hoped she'd never have to run into them on her travels through time and space.

Their search had been lasting about an hour now, and nothing had turned up. No sign of Molly or Lestrade anywhere. Donna was about to ask the Doctor if he was sure Molly was there, when she heard something. It was very faint, so she wasn't sure she'd really heard it. But then it came again. The very faint cry of someone calling, "Help!"

"Molly!" The Doctor was off in an instant, leaving the other three to scramble after him. Donna felt a dizzying wave of relief. They'd found her, they'd found Molly, everyone was safe, it was over.

They came upon a cell near the end of the hall. Molly's voice sounded from inside, a hoarse cry for help, over and over. "Molly, we're here!" the Doctor told her. He started to get to work on the lock, his Sonic Screwdriver whirring away as it hovered over the keypad lock.

There was a moment of silence from inside the cell. "Doctor?" The word was dull and hoarse and hesitantly hopeful all at once. "Doctor! Get us out of here!"

"I'm trying," he assured her.

"Molly, are you alright? Is Lestrade in there with you?" Sherlock asked.

"We're both in here, but Greg's unconscious. Doctor, they've been dosing us with snuff gas." The Doctor froze, a look of horror on his face, before redoubling his efforts to get the lock open.

"Damnit," he growled, lowering the sonic screwdriver. "It's got a deadlock seal. The Sonic Screwdriver won't get me in." He ran a hand frantically through his hair, deciding. "I'm going to have to get into the cell with the TARDIS." Louder now, he called to Molly, "Molly, I'm going to bring the TARDIS into the cell. I'll be right back, I promise."

A slight whimper sounded from inside. After a few moments, Molly said, "Please hurry."

The Doctor didn't need to be told twice. He took off back down the hall, leaving Donna, Sherlock, and John by the door of Molly's cell.

John seemed to throw himself into doctor mode. In a clear, clinical tone, he asked, "Molly, listen, what is snuff gas? What have they been dosing you with?"

"It's alien technology," came Molly's subdued, hoarse reply. " It's fatal. We've been getting small doses, but I don't think we'll last another blast of it." Donna felt a thrill of fear, especially when Molly added quietly, "I'm not sure we'll survive anyway."

"Come on Molly," Donna said pleadingly. "The Doctor will be there soon. We'll get you out of there. We'll go see planets and aliens and space again, yeah?"

"Molly, please, we need to keep you talking," John continued. "We need to keep you awake."

"I'm trying," Molly said quietly. Donna was shocked to hear how small and scared her voice sounded. She'd seen Molly strong and confident, and she'd seen her break down before, crying over the torrent of memories, but she'd never seen her so helpless and pleading. It scared her.

To Donna's surprise, Sherlock joined in, telling the woman behind the door, "Molly, stay focused on us. Remember the Year. We got out of rougher scrapes than this. We always made it through, because you led us through it. You saved us, now we're going to save you."

There was no response. Donna felt a rush of panic. "Molly?" Still nothing. "Molly!" Still no response, and as the silence stretched on, the only sound to be heard was the faint vworp, vworpfrom inside the cell.

Grr, I really wanted to finish the episode in this chapter. Ah well, I'll wrap it up next chapter, and then onwards onto a new episode.

Yes, Molly and Greg are being held at Torchwood,London. Who saw it coming? Anyone?

And yes, I just had to throw in the bit about the TARDIS giving Wilf his own, personalized room. He's just such a sweetheart, he totally deserves his own spot on the TARDIS for whenever he might need it. ^^ It's her way of thanking him for helping the Doctor.

MadBoySam: In case you didn't see my reply in the comments of last chapter, here's my answer to your question; after the detectives decided to trust the Doctor and Sherlock, the detective who took the sonic screwdriver gave it back.