Fade Into You

Rating: R

Notes: This is the second half of The Great Game, and I've been looking forward to this chapter for a long time. Looking through wiki pages, the timing for The Great Game is only over a period of a few short days (if you include the lead up to it). I'm going to keep that pace/timeline going so we don't end up spending three more chapters on this one episode.

There is torture in this chapter, but I've warned you enough so I don't think you're coming into it blindly.

Chapter Seven: The Great Game Pt II

If one curses his father or his mother, his lamp will be put out in utter darkness.

Proverbs 20:20

Ice cold water splashed over her. It was cause for a rude awakening. She sucked in a deep breath of air, shuddered, and coughed.

"Dammit Nat, water again?"

She blinked her eyes open, they were scratchy and felt as if she had slept with her make up on. She probably had, she didn't even remember getting home the night before. Her head was throbbing, a pulsating that made her utterly aware she drank too much the night before. It wasn't until the light hit her eyes that she felt something was...off. Her flat, no matter what she did never had bright light. At least, not the bright florescent light that was currently screaming down on her.

Then the thought…Nat wasn't even supposed to be around that day to splash ice cold water on her. That thought made her heart speed up. She blinked a few times, pushing out whatever sleep that had been clinging to her. When her eyes adjusted to the light she realized she was in a locker room, pale blue lockers were lined up behind a bench in front of her. The more her senses woke up, the more she realized she was in trouble. Her wrists were locked together behind her, when she tugged on them they proved to also be locked to the chair she was sitting on.

She was going to be sick, her stomach churned.

Maddie realized that there was someone behind her when she heard a shoe scuffing on the tile floor. The sound of something falling to the ground was next, a hollow sound, she assumed it was whatever had been used to splash the icy water onto her. Water dripped off the tip of her nose, bothersome since she couldn't move her hands to wipe her face dry.

When she felt the hand drop onto her shoulder, followed by a squeeze, her mind froze. It was a dream, it had to be a dream. She drank too much, got home, and now she was dreaming. It was a dream.

It had to be. A stress induced dream from everything that was going on.

The hand trailed, she could feel fingers combing through her hair.

She couldn't help how her body trembled. It was a dream. She would wake up and Sherlock would be pounding on the door demanding use of her kitchen table.

Maddie was slightly aware there was the smell of chlorine in the air.

It had to be a dream.

The hand had moved to the base of her skull, still wrapped up in her hair, and she was scared. How could she not be? She was hopeful it was a dream, but it didn't feel like a dream. In a sudden flash of pain her head was jerked back. It was such a quick movement, that for a moment she wondered if her neck was broke.

Her neck wasn't broken.

This wasn't a dream.

"Do not withhold discipline from a child; if you strike him with a rod, he will not die. If you strike him with the rod, you will save his soul from Sheol." His thick southern drawl was hard to take after living out of the south for so long. One hand was wrapped around her hair, keeping her neck pulled back at a painful angle, the other was holding open a well worn bible.

Connor.

No.

He smiled down at her, looking as pleased as he could possibly be. His grip on her hair tightened and she winced. He kept a good hold as he walked around to be in front of her, eventually letting go just when she felt like her hair might pull away from her scalp. This was her worst nightmare.

He crouched in front of her, the smile never leaving his face.

It was eerie.

She was terrified.

She wanted Sherlock.

It wasn't her Dad that her mind went to, but to Sherlock. Odd considering one was a real honest to God superhero and the other was just...a detective.

Connor reached out, his fingers grazing the side of her face. It was uncomfortable. Her heart was pounding. "Still lookin' like a southern belle." He told her, his fingers dropping away from her face to her neck, then to the collar of her shirt.

"Auw, don't cry sweet pea-it won't hurt that bad." Apologetic voice, old pet name, horrible threat. She remembered the last time he was with her, and it did hurt quite badly.

Connor was quiet for a long time as he just stayed crouched in front of her. She didn't know what to do, what to think, if she should look at him, or shut her eyes. Maddie didn't understand what she had done to deserve this. Her life was getting back on track...she had her own life finally, she was living…

"I think what hurt the most was having you say those things 'bout me in front of the judge...I know it was just that...adulterer filling' your head with nonsense." He was talking about Tony. "Just as confused as Eve was when she took the apple."

He moved, putting his bible down on a chair nearby, followed by the black jacket he had been wearing. Connor was tall, and even after ten years in jail he didn't look worse for wear. A few new scars she could see on his arms, and a jagged one on his neck but other than that he hardly looked any different.

He was going on about the nature of her sin, quoting the bible, and pacing around in such a way that it made her feel as if she was fourteen again listening to one of his sermons. Connor had always been passionate about his beliefs, and through his years in prison it sounded like the passion only grew.

Before she knew it, he was producing a knife out of a pocket in his pants. It was a serrated switch blade that by looks alone made her want to pass out.

Terrified was an understatement.

He was waving the knife in her face when he asked, "Do ya' have anything to say?"

Her mind raced, what answer was going to keep him happy? The longer he stayed happy and talking, the longer she stayed in one piece. The longer she gave Sherlock to find her-if he even knew she was gone. She didn't know how long she had been out, the locker room was brightly lit but there were no clocks nor were there any windows.

"No sir."

"No?" His tone clearly stated that she had said the wrong thing. "I spend ten years of my life locked away because you decided you don't know what 'honor thy father' means and you have nothing to say to me?"

"I don't see my father around here anywhere, my father certainly isn't you."

So, that was probably the stupidest thing she could have said just then. Way to go Maddie, you're supposed to be smart.

He struck her across her face with the back of his free hand, "Bitch I raised you! I raised you! I AM your father."

Her face stung, she kept her mouth shut. Her head was pounding even worse.

She felt the cool metal of the knife blade against her skin, at her neck. She was starting to uncontrollably cry, where tears fell but she wasn't quite sobbing in hysterics...yet. "It hurts when you say stuff like that, after I took care of you and your momma." He told her, while the knife had started to tear into her shirt, ruining the material. "No letters, no cards, silence for ten years. Y'know how that makes me feel?"

She felt the tip of the blade cut into her chest, looking down she could see how he cut a small thin line at her chest right before her bra started. "Makes me feel hurt." He pointedly said while the knife dragged another line, this time below her bra. They weren't deep cuts, but they were deep enough to hurt, deep enough to bleed while he was busy cutting the fabric of her shirt even more-basically cutting it away from her body.

After tossing her tattered shirt to the side, his free hand rubbed against one of the scars he had left on her from the last incident. She wanted to beg him to stop, to not hurt her again. Tied to a chair, her clothes being cut away, her insane stepfather going on and on-it made her realize this was one of the many reasons she took self defense.

Of course they didn't get to the chapter about getting out of a situation with handcuffs, nor did they really touch on how to fight back when you were so terrified that you were shaking, feeling like you were going to throw up, and had a heart pounding so fast you were surprised you weren't already dead. All she could do was sit there and hope and pray that someone would find her.

As he struck her once more leaving a copper taste in her mouth, she came to the quick conclusion-she was going to be lucky to survive this, let alone have anyone find her.

Maddie did not know how much time went by. It had gotten to the point where she was doing everything she could to just stay inside her own head and not acknowledge anything that was happening to her. Connor wouldn't let her stay in her own head, he kept trying to engage her in conversation, and anytime she didn't answer him quickly enough there was a new flash of pain. It was worse when some of her comments were sarcastic (Thanks Stark genetics).

She had forgotten what true pain had felt like. Her busted up foot from a broken glass shard? That was absolutely nothing compared to what she had been going through. The pain still continued even after he ceased hitting and cutting her. He had stopped when his phone went off, and after a quick conversation which was mostly him going 'mmhm, okay, mmhm, mmhm' he left her.

When he left she cried even harder than she had been. Her rational mind was collecting the facts about how likely it would be for her to make it out alive. Her own Dad was busy, there was no way he would have known she had been abducted. Mycroft with his cameras? Maybe, but just like with her Dad if something was going on he probably wouldn't have noticed her missing, at least not until a few days went by with no work done. Sherlock and John? On a case last she knew, the last few times they were on a case they would go days without seeing her.

So...did that mean it was up to her? Maybe. She was cold, and all of her clothes (with the exception of her panties-the ones with the dogs all over them) had been cut off. The only thing she really could do was jiggle the handcuffs, try her hardest to pull her wrists through. It was clear that it wasn't something that would work, all it served to do was add to the pain the rest of her body was in.

She hated looking down, her body was a wasteland of new cuts and old punishments. Connor had hit her both back handed and closed fist, her pale body already discoloring in different places. When he hadn't been hitting her he had been cutting her, assuring her that he was "Still quite good with a knife…" and he was-in the sense that he was quite capable of inflicting a lot of pain with his cutting. All of the cuts shallow enough to where she was in no danger of bleeding to death, but deep enough to cause pain, discomfort as the blood dripped slowly.

She had been lucky so far (if you could call what she had been through so far lucky), he kept away from the sexual side of things-at least for the most part. He took the time to grip her breasts and drag the blade lightly across one, but other than that (and a quick cupping to her bottom half outside of her panties) he had been more interested in hurting her, telling her that "There was always another day."

That part had made her throw up. Bile mostly, it had been a long enough time to where it seemed like her drinking and eating with Molly had been at least a day previous. When she threw up she realized why she was in the locker room. It was so he wouldn't make a mess with her, Connor explained as he filled up a bucket with ice cold water, only to throw it on her and wash away what she had puked up down a drain in the floor nearby.

It seemed like only a few minutes had went by, when the door to the locker room loudly opened. She went from struggling very intensely with her handcuffs to sitting quietly when that door opened. Her eyes felt swollen from all the crying, but they were wide open as she held her breath waiting for Connor to walk back in.

It wasn't just Connor. It was the repairman from Baker Street as well, both tall and lanky, both dragging an unconscious body to the bench across from her. John. Lovely brotherly John. Seeing him, she couldn't help how her sobbing was starting to turn into flat out hysterics.

She didn't know what to think. She didn't know why Connor was with the repairman, he was smart, but she didn't think he was smart enough to rig all of it up. The situation was made more confusing as they put something on John. It was a vest of some sort, and when she was able to see it clearly there was no denying what it was.

A bomb.

Wonderful.

When they finished rigging him up in both the vest and a not-so-stylish jacket, John's hands were cuffed. He wasn't as secured as Maddie, his hands cuffed together in front instead of in back. Probably trusted he wasn't going to do anything funny while a bomb was strapped to his chest.

The repairman left, talking about having to get into position or something, leaving Connor to come back over to Maddie. "You should have picked yourself some bettah friends."

His hand had returned to her, fingers sprawled out over her shoulder as he knelled in front of her. "Oh how I prayed for you, I did...Lord answered my prayers in a very strange way. Never thought I'd see London."

She shuddered as he buried his face in her lap. His arms were wrapped around her, getting tighter and tighter. "Such a shame it was in order to see you like this, living like a heathen in that house with those men." Of course he conveniently forgot that she lived in the basement and really didn't 'share' the house.

"You had so much hope, even going around with me touring the country playing your piano you never left the Lord." His fingers were digging into her back now, his voice was muffled against her lap, she couldn't help but cry out a little as his nails dragged into her skin. "I remember givin' a sermon in Mississippi, you were still a lil' one, you had finished playing and I started the congregation in prayer and you had demanded a piggy back ride...remember that?" Honestly she couldn't remember anything at that point with him digging into her flesh, she didn't even notice John had been stirring. "So I gave my sermon with you on my back...on my back. My lil' girl…"

It was too much, it hurt, she couldn't help it: "Please, please you're hurting me."

"Hurting you? Hurting you?! You don't know hurt!" He certainly made sure she did then, he had pushed up away from her so fast, with a single blow to her side. Not only did something inside of her crack, but her chair toppled over leaving her laying on the cold tile crying. He had broken her rib, maybe more than one-but with slow ragged breaths she knew at least one was broken. It hurt.

Everything hurt.

Make it stop, make it stop.

"Wh...what...Maddie?!"

Great, John was awake.

Connor was looming over her as she was drawing in breaths. They were shallow intakes of air that made her side explode with pain.

"Get away from her!" John again, his voice was pure rage-she didn't think she had ever heard him sound like that. Because of how Connor was standing she couldn't quite see John, but could only assume how red in the face he was getting.

"You'd best sit tight now, don't want any sudden movements causin' that bomb strapped to your chest to go off now do we?"

"Oh God." Was all she heard John say, followed by him taking in a deep breath. Just as she was getting semi-comfortable on the freezing cold floor, Connor grabbed her chair and righted her. If she had anything left in her stomach she would have puked at that sudden movement, instead she shuddered, and tried her hardest not to make eye contact with John.

She felt so ashamed he had to see her like this, ashamed that he was in there with her-strapped to a bomb. She couldn't decide if this was all her fault, or if there was something more-Connor acting with the repairman was one thing, but just the simple act of breaking out of jail and getting to the UK (especially with SHIELD looking for him) just seemed...too big for him.

Connor's hand grabbed her jaw, tight. Forcing her to look up at him, to see that crazed look in his eyes. She could hardly remember a time where he didn't have that look. Years before her mother got sick, maybe. She did remember the good times, but they were so few and far between. When he took his hand away and backhanded her, John couldn't help but yell out again. It made the situation worse, having someone try to stick up for her.

It made her embarrassed, especially considering who her real dad was. She should have been able to have a witty comeback for every slap, every cut, every grab. Actually, she did-deep down in her head, but she was also scared. Connor took the time to grab at her breasts again, lingering on the one he had cut, grabbing in a way that made her cry out even as she tried so hard to hold her tongue.

Don't look at John. Don't look.

Connor had brought the knife out again, only to be interrupted by the ringing of his phone. A few terse words, followed by a sigh, "Looks like we'll have to play more later-gotta go get ready for the big night."

He tweaked her nose and patted her head as if she was a child, it had been followed by a harsh open handed hit to the back of her head, sending her vision blurry for a moment.

He left, whistling.

Leaving her and John tied up, one strapped nearly naked to a chair broken and battered, the other with a bomb strapped to his chest. This was not how she pictured her past meeting her present. Maddie had actually been hoping to keep her entire past hidden from her new life, forever and ever, especially now with friends thrown into the mix.

She could only imagine what she looked like. Her hair was damp from cold water being splashed over her, numerous cuts littered her body, and bruises-my god the bruises that were forming.

"You okay?"

No.

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah."

It was quiet for a moment, and she summoned the courage to look up. He was staring at her, she frowned.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Christ Maddie, what's going on?"

She looked back down, biting hard on her tongue, trying to get herself not to cry.

"Sherlock will get us out of this." He told her, realizing that maybe now wasn't the best time for questions. She could only hope-she didn't feel like either of them would be getting out of there on their own. One wrong move on John's part and he would probably be blown to a million pieces-right along with her, and she personally couldn't move with the beating she had been given. Would Sherlock save them? Even when Coulson saved her the first time around, it was after Connor was already 'done' with her, leaving her for dead. Would Sherlock come before then?

"What day is it?"

"April first, was on my way to Sarah's when they grabbed me."

She was only missing a full entire day. She didn't know what to think about that, it felt like she had been there longer. Everything hurt.

"This was...our case, people got grabbed, strapped to a bomb, and forced to call Sherlock." John explained, "but why did they grab you too?"

"I don't know."

"Who was that guy?"

She looked away from him again, trying to figure it out herself. Connor was busted out of jail, he had been able to slip undetected from Louisiana to London. Someone had to help him. The repairman wasn't a repairman and was working with Connor. This also had to do with Sherlock, at least with John being there. The bombing, the shoes at her flat...how did Connor relate to Sherlock? There was a missing connection.

Why.

"Maddie…?"

She sniffled, trying to keep the tears away for now. She was starting to get tired, and her side was still throbbing badly. "I thought he was my father."

John looked like he wanted to swear, scream, or maybe just storm off.

"He...I grew up with him, my mom never told me he wasn't my father. He knew he wasn't, but didn't really seem to care that I wasn't his." She wished her hands were untied, her nose was starting to run. The runny nose added even more elegance to the 'recently tortured' couture she was currently exhibiting. "He started to get a little...meaner right before my Mom got sick, even worse after. It wasn't until...he hurt me, like this, and put me in the hospital...that I found out he wasn't my real father."

"It's okay Maddie, we'll get out of this...I'll make sure he doesn't hurt you again."

He looked like he really wanted to promise her that. Like he really believed he could protect her. Ever the soldier.

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

She chided, and a door slam echoed through the locker room causing them both to fall silent and be on alert. It was Connor coming back in, followed by another man-one Maddie had only seen previously in pictures. Jim.

Molly's gay boyfriend.

Seriously?

"Well, now isn't this interesting."

Dear God, Molly...how did you not know he was gay? The voice was a near dead give away, at least to Maddie.

"Sherlock is being predictable, how wouldn't he want to meet here in the middle of the night-where it all...started…" He produced something from a pocket, "Johnny boy, going to need you to wear this, we are going to have so much fun tonight-you obviously know the rules."

John only nodded, it seemed as if both Maddie and he were...shocked.

Jim was rough in how he shoved the earpiece onto John, making Maddie sit more alert than she had been, her back going rigid, her side throbbing with the movement. "Connor, if you will I would love for you to take John where he needs to be. Testing, testing-you hear that John?" Jim was speaking into a device, and as he moved closer to Maddie she was able to see that he also had an earpiece.

Connor moved, grabbing John by the back of his neck, forcing him to stand. "Maddie it's going to be okay." Was all John said, and Jim who was closer to her now, just gave a look-a tsk, shaking his head.

"Oh Dr. Watson, don't make promises you can't keep." He came to stand behind Maddie, his hand touching her bare shoulder-his palm was warm, clammy, it made her stomach flip around. "Don't speak out of turn…" Jim warned, his voice light, almost sounding as if he was on the verge of a song.

Connor led John away, the shorter man sparing a glance back at her, worried.

When they were out of sight Jim gave a little laugh, "Well he did a number on you Miss Stark." one of his fingers trailed on a still-bleeding cut on her left shoulder, "Imagine what Sherlock is going to think…"

She clenched and unclenched her jaw.

"You should really learn to close your blinds…" His weight was pressed onto her shoulders, she could feel him draping himself over her, his head pressed against the left side of her face, so close that she could smell his breath-spearmint. He put a phone in her line of vision, the picture on it was of her and Sherlock, on her sofa-he had a wine glass in one hand and was holding her to his chest with the other-the night she found out Connor escaped.

Jim moved away, coming to stand in front of her-dark eyes glancing up and down her body. "You know, I'll never understand the whole torture thing." He gave a shrug, "Then again, I have so many people to torture for me." He looked at his phone, "Tick tock."

Maddie stayed quiet. Her side was starting to hurt even worse, she had to focus on breathing slowly and evenly. Her mind was going, going, going trying to piece everything together, but it was getting foggy. It was getting hard to focus. She didn't like that.

"I need you to listen to me very, very carefully Miss. Stark." He crouched in front of her, "You fell into my game, gave me a lovely advantage too. This is a game you can't get out of, and the rules for you are simple...do not leave Baker Street. See, isn't that simple?" He gave a laugh, it made her stomach twist.

"I mean...you can, if you want Mrs. Hudson or Johnny boy to die...and wouldn't that just be a shame." He stood up, "You're such an advantage for me that I can't bare to see you leave, and I'm sure you'll have an offer to leave soon…" Why was he so invested in her staying? Jim was making it seem like this was all about Sherlock, but he also made it clear he knew who SHE was...so was he interested in her dad as well? Interested in going against Iron Man?

He gave a smile, "Do you understand?"

She didn't understand, at least not the grand scheme-but she understood his rules. She nodded.

"Wonderful, ah-he's just on time…" She could hear something, mumbling-he was close enough that she knew his earpiece was going off, but not close enough to hear what he was hearing, "See you in a bit."

And then he was gone, walking out on her as she listened to snippets of him talking.

"Evening...this is a turn-up, isn't it Sherlock. Bet you never saw this coming…"

And just when she thought she'd be alone for awhile to collect her thoughts, Connor came back.

He had better things to worry about than the women who lived in the basement. She hadn't been answering his texts, he had been sending them every so often while working on the case, only to get no response. Normally (unless she was sleeping) she always responded. He wouldn't say it bothered him, but it did.

When he was leaving Baker Street to go to the pool-and perhaps even more trouble-he stopped by her door. The new doorknob was shiny, and there was also a new deadbolt-without keys it would take some time to get into. It was almost midnight, he didn't bother knocking. He just stood there, staring at her door for a moment trying to figure out why she had been avoiding him and why it mattered to him.

He liked her hugs. No one other than his mother dared to hug him. It had been nice to feel her pressed against him, showing affection for him. It was strange, it was nice, he hated it. He was becoming weak.

He turned and tucked his coat closer, if she didn't respond to any of his texts by the next day he'd just break in. Maybe she was sick or something, after all pubs were breeding grounds for germs, logic said: she got sick and was just sleeping everything off.

He pushed it out of his mind as he gave the address of the pool to the cab driver he summoned. There were more important things to think about. He moved the thumb drive between his fingers, gazing out the window, wondering what he would possibly be finding out in the next twenty minutes.

It took less time than expected to get to the pool. No cars in the parking lot, the main door was unlocked. It took him a few moments to compose his thoughts before he walked in.

Sherlock didn't expect to come across John at the pool, with a bomb strapped to his chest. John looked worse for wear, his hand twitching, he was listening to someone speak into his ear and saying the words himself-his voice still strong, not letting it show how scared he really was. John did not factor into any scenarios Sherlock had run in his head on the ride over.

He didn't expect to see Jim, Molly's Jim either. Moriarty at last.

He also didn't expect all the red dots at various times covering them, snipers.

He needed time to think, days even to figure out what Moriarty was getting at. A game, a warning for him to stay away, yet the obvious knowledge that Sherlock would do no such thing. It made him wonder what he truly was up against.. He wouldn't show it, but he might have been slightly worried. The thrill of the mystery was always something that drove him, but he didn't like to be outsmarted. He needed time to think, time to figure it out what Moriarty's grand scheme was

And then Moriarty was gone, and Sherlock was on John, getting that vest off of him. "All right?"

No answer.

"Are you alright?" More urgently now, as he continued to unfasten the vest.

"I'm fine." a pause, a deep breath…"I'm fine."

He vaguely could hear John saying his name, but he was too concerned with getting his friend out of the bomb vest. Friend?

"Sherlock."

"What?"

He ripped the vest away, John staggered, and crouched down. "Sherlock, he...he...I saw her."

Her?

"Sorry boys...I'm so changeable!" Moriarty was back, looking as manic as ever.

"It is a weakness with me, but to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness." He was moving closer to them, John had gotten up from his crouched position, between them and Moriarty lay the bomb vest. The red dots returned to Sherlock and John.

His heart was going fast, there were so many options as they continued to speak. Only one option stood out more than others, and that was to simply shoot the vest. He could shoot the vest, grab John, and dive into the pool. Chance of survival slim. Higher survival than being shot in the head by a sniper.

As he was pointing the gun at the vest, Jim smiled. "You don't want to do that...not yet at least. It will ruin my surprise."

"Oh, another?"

"Turn around, you two aren't the only ones who are going to die."

Sherlock didn't want to turn, it didn't seem smart to take his eyes off of Moriarty. The sound of a heavy door opening and closing let him know that someone else was entering the room. He could only imagine who it would be. He moved his body in a way where he was neither facing nor not facing the other direction, a position where his back was towards the pool instead of Moriarty.

When he saw who was brought in, it was like a punch to the gut. He could hear Moriarty laughing, he realized this was the 'her' John mentioned earlier. His mind went back, trying to figure out what he missed. Logic had dictated that she was sick, laying in bed, ignoring the world-not here. There was no reason for her to be there, not that he was aware of.

He blinked. It wasn't a trick of his eyes.

Maddie was hardly able to stand on her own, heavily leaning on the man that had brought her in. He was a good foot taller than her, muscular, and tan. His hand was gripping her upper arm so hard that from the distance Sherlock could see the whites of the man's knuckles while his fingers dug into her flesh.

She wasn't looking up, looking towards the floor instead-shame.

Naked, with the exception of underwear. Her hair was damp and curling. Cuts littered her body, what wasn't cut already had scars (he was right, her sleeves were hiding something), bruises were covering her in various shades. She was visibly shaking.

His mouth went dry. For the first time in a long time, Sherlock Holmes didn't know what to do.

"Cat got your tongue?"

He looked back at Moriarty who was grinning. John next to him had his eyes darting up and down Maddie, medic-he was sight treating her, so if they did make it out of there he would be able to give her fast treatment .

"Leave it to you, to have the interesting ones…"

"She's not involved in this." Finally able to speak.

"No? I have pictures of the two of you cuddled up that would prove otherwise."

Cuddled up? A quick thought, the only time that happened was when she was crying...her flat...windows high up, foot level with the outside world-no blinds. People could see in. Spies.

"Insignificant." Sherlock said. Moriarty didn't look impressed.

"She's kept a really...really juicy secret from you." At Moriarty's words, Maddie's head popped up. Bottom lip split, there was a bruise forming on her jaw. Even from the distance Sherlock could clearly see how red her eyes were, crying-scared.

"Doesn't matter."

"Oh you and I both know that's not true. You're about to die, it matters. It matters she's been lying all about who she is…"

He was cut off by the ringing of a phone, 'Staying Alive' echoing through the room-how fitting.

"Do you mind if I get that?" Moriarty asked.

"No-no, please you've the rest of your life."

He was soon shouting into the phone, and Sherlock was just trying to figure out what was going on. First John-who made sense, they lived together, worked together on cases, John was his blogger...made sense to take him. Maddie? Girl in the basement with a big secret? What to think of that? What was the secret? He had known she had one, he knew she was hiding stuff-but big enough for Moriarty to get involved?

"Sorry, wrong day to die…" He said, holding the phone away from his mouth. "Throw the girl in the pool, let's go."

The man who had been holding Maddie gave a rough kiss to the top of her head, "Be seein' ya real soon sweetpea." He followed this up by shoving her roughly into the pool, it was the deeper end-in her state Sherlock doubted she'd stay afloat.

The man retreated out the door he came, Moriarty's voice drifted away talking about 'making someone into shoes' if they didn't have what they said they did. As they were alone, both John and Sherlock moved to the other side of the pool where Maddie was currently sinking, the water around her tinged slightly reddish from some of the deeper cuts that had still been bleeding.

"What just happened?" John asked, Sherlock was already stripping out of his coat.

"Someone changed his mind." He passed his phone to John, "Call for help."

He jumped into the water, Maddie was panicking, she was sinking, moving around too much. It wouldn't be easy to grab her, the pool wasn't that deep-but deep enough to drown, especially for someone who was already hurt. By the time he had gotten to her, it felt like time was at a stand still.

Red hair spread out around her beaten face, her honey eyes open. He reached out for her, fingers clasping her wrist, pulling her closely against him, by the time he reached her they both hit the bottom. He used that to push off, giving them speed to head towards the surface.

He breathed in deep and coughed, water dripping from his hair and face. She was coughing hard, and holding her head into the crook of his neck, he could feel her hands grip into his shoulders. He did his best to move both himself and Maddie towards the shallower end of the pool so that John could easily grab her from him.

John was explaining the situation on the phone, Sherlock couldn't hear much of it due to Maddie's ragged breaths against his neck. She was breathing odd, the way that some people breathed when they suffered broken ribs (he should know).

What was she hiding? Did it have to do with Mycroft and her working for him? It had to...right?

"Help's on the way." John shouted out, moving to intercept them.

"Given the day and the location they should be here in the next three minutes." Sherlock stated simply, water dripping off his face. He managed to get them to the edge of the pool, moving to position her in a way where he could hand her off to John. The problem with that was: she wasn't letting go. Her small body was trembling against him, her hands gripping into him, her legs wrapped around his waist.

He didn't know what to think anymore.

"Maddie, you have to let go of Sherlock I need to have a look at your wounds." John, the voice of reason. She just clenched Sherlock tighter. "She might be going into shock."

Did what she was hiding matter that much? She shook in his arms, hurt and terrified. It couldn't be bad. If Moriarty thought it was something worth mentioning it could have been anything-but nothing bad. He was sure of that as he held her.

"Madeline, I need you to let go of me." He demanded as gently as possible, "John needs to look you over." Her hands loosened just a little bit, his head dipped down and his mouth pressed against her ear, "I promise I won't let anyone hurt you again."

She loosened her grip on him completely, and Sherlock was able to hoist her to where she was sitting on the edge of the pool. Her eyes were wide, her skin a stark white causing all the bruises and cuts that littered her body to be much more vibrant.

"C...c...can you k...keep that?" She asked, her voice was shaky-at least partially aware and not overtaken by shock-yet.

He nodded.

John was already moving to toss Sherlock's discarded coat over her to warm her up. The sirens were starting to be heard, he was right-three minutes. He was moving to get out of the pool, using the staircase when she spoke again.

"Mrs. Hudson k...knows." Her voice was faint, the breaths she had been taking were more laborious. "It's not...nothing bad, really…" He swallowed hard, if Mrs. Hudson knew whatever secret it was and still let her live at Baker Street, then it wasn't that bad.

If it wasn't that bad, why did Moriarty bring it up? Why was it important to bring her into the Game?

End Notes:

Why does Moriarty want Sherlock to know that Maddie is actually Madeline Stark? There is a reason, but probably not what you think!

And we won't find out his reasons for awhile still...mwhahahaha.

This chapter is a catalyst for a stronger Maddie so if you're worried she's going to be weak all the time-rest assured she will get stronger as the chapters go on.

Sherlock and Maddie are going to have an interesting friendship/relationship. At the moment it is clear to US that they have some kind of feelings for each other. It will be slow, it will not be atypical, and hopefully you'll adore them together when the time comes.

Thank you again for the reviews, the follows, the favorites-it makes this all the more satisfying to write. Sorry for the gap between updates (we had a house guest for the last seven days), hopefully the next chapter will be quicker to write/post!