A.N- Due to an upcoming plot twist, this piece will no longer work in the story. So I'm setting it free for you guys to read.

She tried to scream, tried to kick at whatever was holding her down; but she couldn't get any air out. A rough hand was holding her mouth shut, and Madeline thrashed about violently to try and dislodge it. Her hand struck the pillows beside her where Sherlock would be and grew even more panicked when he wasn't there. She stopped struggling when another hand wrapped itself around her throat and gently squeezed.

"You're going to calm down." A smooth voice said. "Or I'm going to choke you till you're blue in the face." Madeline immediately fell still and winced when the bedside lamp flicked on to reveal a very threatening looking man looming above her.

"I'm going to take my hand off of your mouth, and you're going to be quiet. Deal?" He said in a low voice. Madeline nodded quickly with wide eyes, and the man slowly removed the hand over her mouth but kept his other one around her windpipe.

"Where's Sherlock?" Madeline gasped.

"He's in the den." The intruder said, jerking his head towards the bedroom door. "Don't shout." He added pointedly, just barely tightening his grip on Madeline's throat when he saw that she was going to scream. She kept quiet for all of three seconds, then pressed herself into the pillows and shouted.

"Sherlock!" Madeline felt her air supply quickly dwindle as the intruder made an irritated noise and pinched her throat with two fingers. She squirmed and choked until her vision was littered with black spots and her ears were buzzing. The man released her neck and jerked her up out of the bed, then dragged her to the closet to grab one of Sherlock's scarves.

Madeline felt herself hit the ground, and she recognized the carpet of the living room rubbing her cheek. She could also feel the scarf the intruder had grabbed binding her hands together roughly.

"Miss Carver," She heard Sherlock gasp. She tried to roll onto her left side to face him, but the first man from the bedroom ground his heel into her right shoulder and pinned her to the rug. Madeline gasped and squirmed under the heel of the man's boot, and she noticed that there were three other men littering the flat, and all of them had guns trained on Sherlock, who was confined to John's armchair with a furious and pained look.

"What do you want?" He asked in a low voice. It sounded emotionless, but Madeline could tell that it was charged with anger.

"We want information on your case." The man from the bedroom said. Madeline assumed he was the leader, especially from the way he handled himself and how he was handling her. The heel of his shoe was growing more and more painful, and Madeline tried to focus on letting her shoulder relax to minimize the pain.

"I have nothing to tell you." Sherlock spat. "I haven't made any advancements on the case in weeks." The leader turned his foot, grinding his shoe into Madeline's shoulder. She made a strange sound and had to remind herself to relax her shoulder again.

"Then tell us who your client is." The man prompted, "Who employed you?" Sherlock looked at Madeline briefly, decided that she could last a bit longer, and then fixed the man with a cold stare.

"I'm not allowed to say." He said. "That would be a breach of confidentiality on my part." The leader closed his eyes and sighed, then removed his foot from Madeline's shoulder. She immediately tried to sit up and was halfway there when the leader's boot hit her in the throat.

She collapsed onto the rug, winded and gasping as the man kept the rubber sole of his shoe firmly pressed onto her windpipe. Sherlock looked ready to kill someone but sat motionless while the other intruders kept their guns trained on him.

"Tell us who employed you. Who gave you this case?" The leader demanded more harshly. When Sherlock didn't respond, the man leaned forward, slowly applying pressure onto Madeline's windpipe.

"Sherlock, answer him!" She choked. Sherlock met her eyes briefly before directing his attention to the leader.

"A man by the name of Dexter Segelsen." He said flatly. "He was a major in medical ethics, then turned to doing simple repair jobs for anyone who would ask. Remove your boot from Miss Carver's throat." The leader watched Sherlock closely, then stepped off of Madeline. She rolled to the side, gasping and choking as air filled her lungs to maximum capacity again. She panicked when the man pulled her to her feet. She tried to squirm away; but he quickly pulled Sherlock's scarf off of her hands and let her go. She stumbled away from him as quickly as she could and pressed herself against the mantelpiece.

"You would do poorly in an interrogation, Brother Mine." A clipped voice said. "At least when your little American is in the vicinity." Mycroft Holmes pushed himself off the doorframe casually, swinging his umbrella like a pendulum as he walked into the middle of the flat.

"You." Sherlock bit out. His brother gave him a tight smile and rolled his shoulders.

"A simple training exercise. We tend to use it to test recruits and see how well they stand under pressure. You seem to have failed." Mycroft's voice took on a fake pout and Sherlock stood from his chair quickly. The elder Holmes waved off the other men, and they stepped back respectfully.

"Get out." Sherlock snapped. "Leave. Now." Mycroft pursed his lips.

"I will after I've finished discussing your case with you. Dexter Segelsen, you said?" He asked. Sherlock stormed past him and threw open the door to 221B.

"Now." He snarled. Mycroft assessed his brother's body language and tone critically, then sighed.

"Another time, then. Perhaps when everything isn't so emotionally charged. I was hoping to stay longer." He swung his umbrella towards the door, and all the men filed out. The leader went last, and Madeline made sure to avoid making eye contact with him as he passed her. Mycroft turned and gave Sherlock another patronizingly kind smile, but the detective wasn't in the mood to tolerate it.

"Get out, Mycroft." He growled. "You've crossed a line." Mycroft raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, then inclined his head to Madeline, smirked at Sherlock, and left. As soon as the door closed, Madeline collapsed into her chair to catch her breath.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked her from the door. She shook her head, then tried to speak.

"Not really." She was horrified that her voice came out as a ragged croak, and Sherlock closed his eyes and frowned.

"Go find Mrs. Hudson and ask her to make tea with lots of honey." He said in a terse voice. "It'll help soothe your throat. Try not to speak, either." Madeline nodded and tramped down the steps, still in her pajamas. It would have been a lie to say that she was surprised to find Mycroft Holmes waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. The elder Holmes leaned close to her and spoke low and fast.

"You remember your impromptu deportation two years ago, yes?" He asked. "Do you remember what I told you then?" Madeline thought for a second, then shrugged. Mycroft didn't wait for her answer.

"I told you to stop fighting the man trying to get you on the plane, because you were hurting Sherlock." He said coldly. The memory came flooding back to Madeline, and she felt a tinge of the panic she'd felt while Mycroft had corralled her onto the plane bound for America.

"You're doing it again, young lady." Mycroft told her flatly. "I hope you realize the danger and vulnerability you pose." He risked a glance back up the stairway to the closed door of 221B. "I need my brother, as much as it pains me to say it; and he has as much of a part in this country's affairs as I do. Now, factor in you and your whole- scenario," He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "You put him at risk, and by extension- all of England. I would advise you to rethink everything you do regarding your relationship with Sherlock. Understood? If the time comes that you impair his ability to function too much, I will have you removed; and it won't be to somewhere where he can easily reach you." Finished, Mycroft gave Madeline a tight smile and stepped into the street with a curt "good day". Madeline blinked after him, then silently continued to 221A.