Disclaimer. All characters belong to Mr Moffatt, Mr Gatiss and Mr Doyle. All are loved by me.

Time Period: set sometime after TRF, when Sherlock has returned.


Molly was dreadfully tired, but it didn't stop her from exploring the room she was locked in. Molly head had been covered as they had brought her out of the van into the house, so she had no idea where she was. She could tell it was a basement or cellar room, she'd been marched downstairs when she arrived, and the only window in the room was above her head at the top of the room. The concrete walls and floor were cool to the touch, so more likely a cellar. Fortunately it wasn't too damp, otherwise there would be additional concerns about fungus and bacteria. There was only one door, and it was locked - a good old fashioned Victorian style mortice lock. In one corner was an old fashioned ceramic butler sink. The room was quite large, probably about 15 feet x 20 feet.

OK. Think She thought to herself. Start taking mental notes. The "W" game. Who, what, where, when, why and how. It was something her father had taught her that she found useful when considering the bodies she worked on. Perhaps it would help her focus now.

Who? Names? She knew Kamil's name and Kasuf's. Also Lydia's. There was also their father and at least 2 other women who names she didn't know.

What? What did she have that could help her? Molly looked at the meager bandages and plasters. Not good. She had a blanket and a small camp bed. There was water - that was good. She had her medical skills. Gosh this wasn't helping.

Where? Taken from Oxford - easy. But where was she now? Not 100% on that that one. She thought the journey had been about an 1.5 to 2 hours. So that covered a pretty large area of England. The road had been pretty straight, which had helped whilst she had stabilised Kamil. Therefore a motorway or possibly an long A-road. More likely motorway from Oxford, the M4. Still a large area. Given the fact she was a cellar, with a old fashioned lock door, she was possibly an old Victorian house. Not much help, Victorian Houses could be found in every town up and down the country. She strained to hear any sounds from outside, but couldn't make out anything specific. The occasional car and possibly a bird. Could be anywhere.

When? That was easy. She had her watch. It was now about 9.15pm. It could be days before she was missed, so again not much help. Suddenly she heard a clock chime. It didn't sound like it came from within the house. So outside, possibly a church? Molly wasn't particularly religious, so wasn't sure if chimes on the quarter of the house was likely to be a church clock. But it was something else to add to her mental list.

Why? She was a hostage, kidnapped to help save Kamil.

How? How was she going to escape? Almost as soon as she'd voiced the thought, it disappeared. There was no way she would be able to leave Kamil. He needed her.

She sighed, wondering if Sherlock had tried the W game. He would have figured everything out by now, could probably tell from the sound of the church bell that it was a 14th century church and only found in a particular part of the country. The lock would have been picked and he'd probably even be able to say to designed the lock. She smiled. His throw away deductions always fascinated her, except when they were about her.

She sat back on her bed. She would do well to grab whatever rest she could. The operation had been long, and she was fairly sure Kamil would have a very rough night.

Molly heard the clock chime twice more at half past and quarter to. She'd found it oddly disturbing, like it was marking the passage of her life. She'd always hated clocks that chimed or ticked. It had taken her a long time to find just the right type of wrist watch that suited her. Silent, but not digital.

It was shortly after the 9.45 chime that Molly heard Kamil whimpering. Limping over to him, she placed a hand on his uninjured shoulder. "Kamil, you need to keep very still."

Kamil tried turning his head to see Molly and cried out in pain.

Molly's eyes filled with tears, as she pushed his shoulder gently back onto the bed. "I am so sorry about the pain, I've given you everything I can. Just breath slowly, and don't move."

Kamil cried out again louder. "It hurts."

Molly rested her hands on his chest. "I know. I know. And right now I have nothing to give you. Breath slowly, and don't move at all."

Kamil bit his lip, and managed slowly to bring his breathing under control. "What happened?" he croaked.

Molly wiped her eyes. "My name is Molly Hooper. I'm a Doctor. I don't know what you were doing, or where you were when you were hurt, but you had a gunshot wound to your stomach." Molly carefully rested her hand on his head, still not too warm. "A man, your brother I think, and your father brought me here to save you. I had to operate on your stomach, to stop the bleeding. You must keep as still as possible. You've lost a lot of blood. Really you should be in hospital. I had to do extensive surgery, and I don't want you pulling the stitches, it really won't take much to open them up and cause more bleeding. "

"You're a Doctor?"

Molly nodded, "Yes." She decided he probably wouldn't want to hear that most of her patients were already dead before she got to them.

"Kasuf brought you here?"

"Kidnapped would probably be a better description." Molly said quietly. "You were in the back of a van when they grabbed me. I treated you en route the best I could, but operated here."

"I don't remember."

"Well you were unconscious," said Molly.

There was a small sound, and suddenly the door to the room opened. Kamil's father walked in with a carrier bag. Making a beeline for Kamil, he ignored Molly. "My son," he said fondly. "You are awake."

"Yes father." Kamil said in a very strained voice. He wisely decided to remain still.

Turning to Molly, Kamil's father passed her the carried bags. "I have brought the drugs you requested. Some we could not get. Give me alternatives and I will see what I can do." He passed the bag to Molly.

"Thank you." Molly dared to speak. She started to look through the bag. It seemed that most of the packets and bottles were part used. The labels on the bottles showed they had been issued by a variety of pharmacies, all in the Bristol area, (she filed that away in her Where list), and to a variety of people. The bag did seem to contain most of the drugs she'd asked for, but not completely expectedly there was no morphine. Molly had known it was unlikely that they would have obtained that. It would raise too many questions. Unfortunately it was also the best drug to treat Kamil's pain. She quickly began to think of alternatives. Unfortunately ibuprofen and paracetamol weren't going to be enough. There was a blister pack strip of Tramadol tablets. They would help, but were not ideal.

Kamil spoke a few words to his father in a language that Molly didn't understand. The old man shrugged and replied rapidly in the same language.

Molly decided she didn't care what they were saying, and began to carefully sort the drugs into little piles on the side of Kamil's bed. Painkillers, antibiotics, and heap of dressings. She needed to give Kamil a dose of the strongest painkillers they had. It was unhealthily high, and she was concerned about the effect on his liver. But under the circumstances, he really needed them.

She saw Kamil clenching his fists, holding the pain inside. He whimpered slightly, and his father looked over at her.

"Speak woman." He ordered, sensing she was holding back.

"The pain killers here won't be strong enough for the pain. He's going to need something else, something stronger." Molly looked at Kamil. "I don't think ketamine is a good idea, it increases blood pressure and that's about the last thing he needs. I can use the Tramadol, but there isn't enough for more than 1 or 2 doses." She paused. "Look Morphine is the best thing for him, but if you can't get it," she sighed. "Can you get heroin?"

"You wish to make my son a drug addict?"

"No, nothing like that. Look the body can convert heroin into Morphine. Short term for the treatment of pain, it's not great, but it will work," said Molly firmly. "But it has to be the purest you can get. No 4 if they ask. Not brown sugar."

"And this is essential?"

"If you don't want him climbing the walls, or screaming in agony, yes." Molly confirmed.

"Please father," begged Kamil, his eyes filling with tears, as he tried not to move or cry out.

Kamil's father nodded. "I will see what I can find." He turned back to Kamil. "Rest my son. All will be well soon." He walked back to the door. "You will remain here."

The door was closed and locked again. Molly sighed with relief as he left, and rushed to Kamil's side. "OK, first things first. Pain relief."

Molly was about to administer the pain relief when the door opened again, and Lydia slipped in.

"How is he?" Lydia asked approaching Kamil's bed.

Molly rolled her eyes. "How do you think? He needs a hospital. Here help me with this." She quickly gave Kamil the painkillers and a sip of water. "Take it easy now. Try not to choke. Coughing right now would probably finish you off."

Lydia helped Molly, and when Kamil was dosed up to Molly's satisfaction Lydia pulled a small bag from her jacket pocket. "I managed to get some food. It's not much, but I was afraid of getting caught. I can't stay long."

Molly suddenly realised she hadn't eaten all day. She dived in the bag and pulled out a bread like tortilla. She quickly ate it, pausing to look at Lydia as Kamil and Lydia conversed.

"Your sister helped save your life," said Molly between bites of food. "She helped during the operation. I couldn't have managed without her."

"I have never seen someone with such skill," said Lydia smiling. "She knew exactly what to do, and explained it in a way that meant I could help."

Molly shrugged. "I'm trained, that's all."

Kamil was very slightly woozy, and slurred his speech. "What happened Lydia. I have no memory of the accident."

Lydia glanced at Molly concerned. "It's the drugs making him tired," explained Molly.

"It wasn't an accident Kamil. Kasuf told me it was the Malpi family."

Molly wandered away slightly. Enough to be able to claim not to hear what was being said, but actually close enough to hear every word.

"Mika Malpi?"

"Yes, and his brothers."

"But there was an agreement," said Kamil. "Father had arranged everything. The dowry was all arranged."

"Kasuf says they said the amount wasn't enough." Lydia began to cry. "But I know Mika would never had said that."

"You have been speaking to him, haven't you Lyd?" Kamil sighed, and winced. "Father would not be happy if he knew."

Lydia continued to cry. "Mika wanted to marry me, and now, now everything is ruined.

Molly couldn't pretend not to hear any longer. "Are you telling me that Kamil here was almost killed over a marriage deal? That man, your father, was paying a dowry to someone to marry you?"

Lydia nodded. "It had been planned for as long as I can remember. But I know Mika," she protested. "He wanted to marry me. It wasn't about the money."

Molly shook her head. Given the predicament she was in, she should be working on trying to escape. Not trying to resolve a family feud and getting in the middle of an arranged marriage. "Look Lydia. I didn't mean to upset you." She indicated to Kamil. "You helped me save your brothers life. But he is still seriously ill. He needs better drugs that those 'foraged' from well meaning family members. He needs a hospital, and a blood transfusion."

"If he needs blood, he can have some of mine," said Lydia instantly.

"It doesn't work like that," said Molly soothingly. "You may not be the right blood group. I don't have anything here to test it with, and it could kill him."

Kamil had fallen asleep.

"I have to go," said Lydia making her way to the door.

Molly stumbled after her, towards the door, managing to quickly push it closed, preventing her from leaving. Molly took a deep breath. "I know you want to help your brother. I want to help him too. And right now, the best way is with proper medical help. Look I could try to escape right now. You've left the door unlocked. But I will stay and help Kamil. But you need to help me too."

"How?" said Lydia quietly.

"Tell someone we are here. Get me help. Call the police."

Lydia shook her head. "I can't. My father will kill me."

Molly grabbed Lydia's arm. "Lydia, try to understand this," she hissed urgently. "There is at best a 10% chance of your brother making it through the night without further medical intervention. In all probability without the drugs and treatment he needs he is going to die. Your father has made it very clear that he will kill me if that happens. Now I promise you I will stay here to help him, but his chances improve the quicker you get me help." Molly released her and pushed her towards the door.

Lydia glanced one last time at Kamil, and left the room, locking the door behind her.

Sighing heavily, Molly limped back to Kamil. "OK Kamil. It's you and me. I've either just done the bravest thing in my life, or the stupidest."

Had she done the right thing? Should she have taken the chance to escape? She brushed a lock of hair from Kamil's forehead. She hoped she had got through to Lydia. She wasn't sure.

Molly looked back the door, and then leant down to whisper in Kamil's ear. "Kamil, I know you can't hear me, but I need to apologise for hurting you. For doing this to you. Please understand that I only did it to save your life," said Molly quietly. "I hope you can forgive me for the pain."

She closed her eyes and thought back to her graduation ceremony. Her medical school had allowed students a choice of oaths to recite. Here favourite had been the Declaration of Geneva, and at times of trouble, she had always found it's simple message to be soothing. In a quiet voice, that gradually grew stronger, she recited the oath that meant so much to her, "I solemnly pledge to consecrate my life to the service of humanity; I will give to my teachers the respect and gratitude that is their due; I will practice my profession with conscience and dignity; The health of my patient will be my first consideration; I will respect the secrets that are confided in me, even after the patient has died; I will maintain by all the means in my power, the honour and the noble traditions of the medical profession; My colleagues will be my sisters and brothers; I will not permit considerations of age, disease or disability, creed, ethnic origin, gender, nationality, political affiliation, race, sexual orientation, social standing or any other factor to intervene between my duty and my patient; I will maintain the utmost respect for human life; I will not use my medical knowledge to violate human rights and civil liberties, even under threat; I make these promises solemnly, freely and upon my honour."

Placing her hand gently on Kamil's chest, over his heart, she whispered to him. "I promise you, I will do everything I can to save you. Everything."


Thanks to everyone for the reviews or that have favourited this story. I will endeavour to write more quickly. Sorry for the delay - I haven't been well and everything - even breathing - has felt like an effort.