You guys! Y'all are so awesome! (man my southern really came out just then…) ANYWAY! I'm so happy you guys have stuck with me for so long, so here's another short chapter. Forgot the standard disclaimer last time…All characters, storylines, blah blah belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Gatniss and Moffat respectively. Last chapter I mainly used the script from "The Great Game" episode but altered it some to fit my story. Caitlin is purely my creation. So- ON WITH THE READING!

Caitlin's mind was the first to awaken before she won the fight to open her eyes, even if it was just a tiny crack. She moaned. The light was blinding, forcing her eyes shut once more. However she knew she was still captive. She lay on her side, cool air kissing her cheek. She could hear the slow and steady drip of the water as it fell from ceiling to floor. As Caitlin lay there listening to the steady drip drip of the water, her eyes opened when the drips turned to steady beeps. What on earth? Curling her fingers in the blankets, she struggled to push herself up. Wait. Blankets?! The drips began to fall faster, the beeps matching every drop. Was she going crazy? As she struggled to get up, more sounds joined the now off the charts beeping. Unrecognizable voices began to join in the horrible noise. Caitlin started to feel claustrophobic as the voices grew closer and louder and as she tried to pull away she felt herself tangled in wires. Her ragged scream joined in as well when she felt hands on her arms. She continued to scream as she fought against her attacker, her blurry eyes finally focusing. Caitlin was in an unfamiliar room, the stark and luminescent light harsh to her eyes, a man standing above her. He was back. "No. NO! Leave me alone! Don't touch me!" Flinging her arm out she heard the satisfying 'crunch' of what she assumed was his nose that was accompanied by a string of explicitives. As soon as Caitlin felt his hands pull away she became more determined than ever to leave. Yanking the wires and tubes from her body, Caitlin threw her legs over the bed to stand up, only to have them collapse beneath her. Hearing the door burst open, she finally dragged herself from the floor. Somebody else was coming, he had gotten someone to take his place. Heart racing, Caitlin let go of the end of the bed, only able to make it a couple of steps before pitching forward. She felt someone catch her and she let out a scream as their hands ended up squeezing the bandage wrapped around one of the many deep cuts on her body. The pain was so bad her vision began to fade, the darkness quickly closing in. Caitlin was barely awake and unaware as the nurses laid her back in the bed, reattaching the IVs and other necessary wires she had previously ripped off. As one nurse pulled the blanket back around her, Caitlin blinked as a bright pin prick of light pierced through the darkness. It stopped almost as quickly as it had started and she heard a muffled voice say something before it was silent once more. As her eyelids began to droop Caitlin heard a shuffling come from one corner of the room followed by a sigh. Her eyes widened in fear and with a small whimper she watched as a man stepped from the shadowed area. Tall, black coat and blue scarf, tousled curls…

Tears slowly began to fall down her cheeks as Caitlin realized she was looking at Sherlock. As he reached the side of the bed she could only mouth his name, her throat too raw to speak. He looked down at her, his gorgeous eyes that she thought she'd never see again, filled with pain.

"I'm so sorry Caitlin. I should have been there for you."

Caitlin used as much energy as she could and reached up to curl her fingers around his. As she did this, she saw a tear roll down Sherlock's face. She had to be dreaming, this wasn't real. He wasn't here. Letting her hand fall away from his, the morphine began to work it's magic and the last thing she heard was "he will never harm you again."

As soon as he was sure Caitlin was asleep Sherlock swatted the tears from his face and took a deep breath. He checked himself in the mirror before quietly slipping out of the room. Rounding the corner Sherlock found John, Lestrade and surprisingly Mycroft all sitting in the waiting room. John immediately leapt to his feet and hurried forward.

"How is she Sherlock?"

Wanting to snap back the obvious, Sherlock contained himself before responding.

"Caitlin is…" Sherlock paused for a second. "Caitlin is stable." An audible sigh of relief was heard from everyone. "However she has significant blood loss from critical wounds and must be kept heavily sedated. She attacks anyone who comes near her, especially men." Sitting down in the closest chair, Sherlock leaned back, steepling his hands under his chin before muttering, "She recognized me."

Lestrade offered a small smile. "That's great then….right?"

"I'm afraid not Detective Inspector." Everyone looked up as Mycroft chimed in. It had been the first thing he had said in hours.

"Unfortunately Miss O'Connor probably only recognized my dear brother as what she thought to be a hallucination. The medication is very strong and after all she has been through her mind is grasping at straws and trying to figure out what is real and what isn't. Am I right in saying she believes herself still captive Sherlock?"

John and Lestrade looked to the younger Holmes and their hearts hurt as Sherlock let out a sigh before nodding. Mycroft's expression also softened, for the tiniest of moments before he stood. Gathering his coat and umbrella he stated,

"If you would excuse me gentlemen I am needed elsewhere."

As Mycroft began to stroll past, Sherlock reached out to grab his brothers wrist. As the elder Holmes looked down at the younger, the quietest "thank you" was heard from Sherlock before he let go. There was a pause and Mycroft placed a light hand on his brothers shoulder as he said,

"I didn't do this for you dear brother. I did it for country and crown and that poor girl who loves you."

Pulling his hand back, Mycroft straightened before continuing his walk to the exit and disappearing.

Watching Sherlock's hands fall and begin to white knuckle the arms of the chair John's eyebrows knotted together in anger and he muttered "bloody pillock." Lestrade seemed to have an expression on his face that wondered if that really happened and was about to say something when the doctor appeared.

"Mr. Holmes?"

Looking up at the doctor Sherlock stood and John and Lestrade snapped to attention.

"I take it you've been to see Ms. O'Connor?"

Sherlock nodded.

"Then you know how critical her condition is."

Interrupting the doctor, John looked at Sherlock with an exclamation of

"I thought you said she was stable?!"

Before Sherlock could respond the doctor cut back in.

"She is stable…in a way. Her body is very damaged but with the right amount of rest and the correct medication, will start to heal. It's her mind I'm worried about."

"What does that mean exactly?" John cut in again.

"Well Mr.-"

"Doctor. Doctor Watson."

"Well Dr. Watson," John caught the snarky undertone but shrugged it off, "I've seen plenty of trauma patients in my time but Ms. O'Connor has to be the worst. I'm sure you know she is hallucinating…"

At the point Sherlock stopped listening as his mind drifted back to horror he had witnessed earlier.

The room he had expected to find Caitlin in was horrific. He had only managed to stay for a few minutes before running outside to be sick.

"We know she was drugged but her system was so depleted we can't figure out everything she was drugged with. There are slight traces of Benadryl as well as some run of the mill sedatives but I know she had to have been on more. That's why we can't have her on too much morphine even though the pain must be unbearable. We have to make sure everything is flushed out."

There was blood everywhere. So much blood. Blunt knives, discarded rope, empty bottles clinking…bottles…

Bottles…

"BOTTLES!"

The doctor, John and Lestrade looked up at Sherlock's exclamation.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Bottles. Glass bottles. When I went looking for her, I found Caitlin's torture room before I found her. There were glass medication bottles as well as used syringes rolling around the floor."

Closing his eyes Sherlock yelled at himself, 'THINK! YOU KNOW THIS!'

"Ativan. Ativan and Rohypnol."

"Are you sure?" the doctor asked.

"YES! Ativan and Rohypnol are what he used on his previous victims! Why would he have stopped now you stupid man?!"

Putting a hand on Sherlock's shoulder to calm him down, John looked at the affronted Doctor and muttered.

"Just take his word for it."

Frowning for a moment the doctor raised an eyebrow before responding.

"Alright, if you say so. I'll up her fluids and do some more blood work before increasing her morphine."

"Thank you," John replied as the other man walked off and Sherlock fell back in his chair.