A/N: It's 2:00 in the bloody morning. Though I hope it doesn't suck, I'm really too tired to care.
"What do you mean, we're going to die?" I ask incredulously.
"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry," Abbey (or maybe not Abbey) said through tears.
"Okay, wait. If you remember, then who are you?" Sherlock asked.
"My name is Tessa, Tessa Blake, and I really shouldn't be here." She made to get up.
"No, no, no, no, no. You can't just drop a bomb like that and then leave. Why did you-"
"Hello?! Sherlock, John, are you alright?" I heard Lestrade's voice from the stairwell.
"You can't tell him, he can't know I've remembered," Tessa said. "Please, I'll explain later."
"I really don't know if that's the best idea..." I started, but Sherlock interrupted me.
"Fine."
Just then, Lestrade, Donovan, and Anderson came busting through the door.
"The freak's fine, sir," said Donovan once she saw that we were alright.
"Sherlock, John, what the bloody hell happened?" asked Lestrade.
"You're the police, why don't you figure it out?" snapped Sherlock.
"Yeah, he's fine," said Anderson.
"Well, let's get down to the station and try to figure out what's happened." said Lestrade, gesturing towards the door.
"We most certainly will not," said Sherlock. "I don't know about you, but my flat just exploded and I could use some rest. John? Abbey?"
We both followed Sherlock to his room, and waited for Lestrade and his people to leave. Tessa sat on Sherlock's bed while we stood in front of her.
"Alright, start talking," said Sherlock.
"You won't believe me."
"Then start with the easy things," I suggested. "Age, where you're from, things of that sort."
"I don't know."
"What do you mean? I thought you remembered."
She sighed. "I was taken."
"What do you mean, you were taken?" Sherlock asked. This must have piqued his interest.
"When I was a little girl, I was taken."
"By who?" I said.
She gave a sad chuckle. "I wish I knew."
"Go on," said Sherlock.
"I was taken. It was so many years ago. They took me far away, so far away. Ever since I can remember, they've been teaching me. Teaching me their way of life. They trained me. I could name 17 different ways to kill you right now with my bare hands and my eyes closed, and I've done it before. Not only that, but they forced me to do other things, too. No one ever expects the pretty young girl, now do they? I've been smuggling drugs in and out of the country for years. I'm a horrible person and I hate myself."
"Why the explosion?" I asked.
"They're angry with me."
"Why?"
"Because you betrayed them," Sherlock supplied. "Oh, this is brilliant! I can deduce again! It's so much easier to deduce someone when they actually know who they are! Wonderful!"
"Sherlock!" I scolded.
"No, it's okay, he's right. I wanted to stop them. Stop everything they were doing, so I broke into the main facility. I took pictures to show the police, but I was caught."
"Then what?" Sherlock demanded.
"I don't know, I can't remember. The hit on my head must of jogged my memory, but I still can't recall everything."
"Okay, okay, I'm still trying to wrap my head around everything," I said. "But why are we going to die?"
"You don't understand. These people are dangerous. More dangerous than you could ever imagine. They obviously aren't happy that I'm alive, and they especially won't be happy that you're helping me. You're in incredible danger."
"That's fantastic!" Sherlock yelled. "Finally, something worth my time!" He spinned around and had the same look on his face as a kid in a candy shop.
"He's always like that," I told her. I grabbed her hand. "Don't worry Tessa, we're going to help you."
"Yeah? And who's gonna help you?"
"Okay, Tessa," Sherlock started. "I'm going to need every single bit of information on this organization you can possibly supply me with."
Tessa told him everything she could remember, but it really wasn't much. It was almost as if she could remember everything except for the important things. Suddenly, Sherlock's phone rang.
"Sherlock Holmes." He made a strange face, then put the phone on the bed and pressed the speaker button. A woman's voice started to speak.
"You have 6 hours to return Ms. Blake to our custody. If she is not within our possession in this amount of time, the explosion will be bigger, and you and Dr. Watson's deaths will be ensured. This is your only warning."
"What if we leave? You can't blow us up if you can't find us," I said.
"Dr. Watson, we have been watching you for weeks. We aren't about to lose you now."
"If we actually were to do what you are asking of us, which we won't, how would we go about bringing her to you?" Sherlock asked.
There was a pause. "Figure it out, Mr. Holmes. If you're the genius, you should be able to find us, shouldn't you? You have 6 hours. Good luck."