Chapter 5

Lestrade had been right about the little torture room. There were all kinds of horrible instruments, waiting to be used. A dim florescent light flickered in the room, casting eerie shadows around the room. There were four Doctors in the room and their boss Mr. Darcie, who was clutching Sherlock's file in his hands. They all looked very professional and normal, but John could see something in their eyes; something evil.

"Thank you all for coming today," Mr. Darcie began. The Doctors all turned to him, halting their conversations to listen. "We are here today to discuss our former partner Dr. Brook and his insane patient Sherlock Holmes." John flinched, afraid for his friend.

"What about? Dr. Watson has him in his care now," Henry stated, crossing his skinny arms. Mr. Darcie shook his head.

"Yes, but Mr. Holmes is clever. From what I have heard he is planning on an escape and we must be ready for him at all times." Soft murmuring began to echo through the room at the very mention of and escape. John shoved his hand in his coat pocket as he forced them in a fist. What was he to do now? Darcie held his hand up to silence them all again and continued speaking. "Now, I ask of all of you to keep your ears open and ready. We must stop him!" John put his hands in his coat pockets to hide his fists. Great, now he was wanted to spy on his friend. He would never do so of course, but he would have to give them some details in order to keep the other doctors' trust. "Are you all prepared to take this madman down?" Mr. Darcie asked.

"What will you do to him if you get your information?" John wished he hadn't asked, but he had to know what price his friend might pay for his actions. The room was dead silent and all the doctors had eerie smiles stretched on their faces.

"We will try to assist his poor mind," Mr. Darcie cooed, stepping aside from a table completely covered in buckles, straps, and wires. John's heart fell to his stomach, but he kept his reaction hidden from the doctors. John nodded in understanding and walked out of the room, leaving the doctors alone.

He leaned up against the wall, taking in deep long breaths seconds later. He couldn't believe this. This place was a prison; not a hospital. John was about to rush back to tell Sherlock and Lestrade what he had heard when whimpering from the room next door caught his attention. He slipped into the dark room to see a young woman with her hair up in a ponytail. She looked very sweet, but her eyes were wild.

"Hello," John called out to her. She gasped from his voice and stared at him wide eyed. John slowly approached her, sitting on a chair opposite of her. "You must be Molly; Sherlock's told me a lot about you." Molly's eyes lit up at the mention of the detective's name and she completely relaxed.

"Did he get my message?" she asked, fiddling clumsily with her fingers. John nodded and looked around only to find the place as dull as Sherlock's.

"I'm Dr. Watson by the way," John informed her. Again, Molly's eyes widened.

"Dr. John Watson?!" she shouted in surprise. John jumped back in his seat, surprised and bewildered by her reaction.

"Ummm…yes," John informed her, nodding slowly. "Why? Is something wrong?" Molly quickly shook her head and jumped up onto her feet, pacing the room. John watched her, surprised by this sweet young woman. How did she know his name? Did another doctor tell her or had she been listening to the conversation in the other room?

"Dr. Watson, you are a loyal man, are you not?" Molly asked. John nodded, not really understanding where she was going with this. "Then will you remain loyal to the man you claim to believe no matter what?" Molly asked.

"Of course!" John shouted, offended that she would think of him doing such a thing.

"I'm sorry, but I have to know, Dr. Watson. The last thing Sherlock needs is for someone he trusts to work against him," Molly informed him with apologetic eyes. John un-tensed and stood to his feet.

"Well, don't worry about it. I believe in him. No one can change my mind about that," John stated triumphantly, reaching for the door.

"Even if it is Sherlock Holmes who changes it?" Molly asked. John twirled around to ask what she meant, but when he did he found himself all alone. She was just…gone. Like she was just something of his imagination.