The five of them got into a car and went to the boarding school. There was an older woman sitting on the front of a police car with a shock blanket wrapped around her. Lestrade was walking with Alex and Sherlock towards her.

"That's Miss McKenzie, the house mistress." He said. "Go easy."

"Miss McKenzie, you're in charge of house wellfare?" Alex asked gently.

"Yet you left this place wide open last night?" Sherlock asked, not as gently. Actually, scratch that. Not gently at all. "What are you, an idiot, a drunk, or a criminal? Now, quickly, tell me!" Sherlock ripped her shock blanket off.

"Oh, boy..." Alex said.

"All the doors and windows were probably bolted. No one, not even me, went into their room last night!" Miss McKenzie said. "You have to believe me!"

"I do, I just wanted you to speak quickly." Sherlock said. "Miss McKenzie will need to breathe into a bag now."

They went into the young girls room. Sherlock looked around and Alex sat down on the bed. Sherlock looked in the cabinent.

"Six grand a term, you'd expect them to keep the kids safe, wouldn't you?" John said. "You said the other kids had all left on their holidays?"

"They were the only two sleeping on this floor." Lestrade said.

"There's absolutely no sign of a break-in." John said.

"The intruder must have been hidden inside some place." Alex said.

Sherlock opened a toy chest. There was an envelope, the same one Alex had gotten at the flat. There was a book inside of it. It was Grimm's Fairy-Tales. Sherlock flipped the book in his hand. He flipped through the pages. Nothing.

"Show me where the brother slept." Sherlock said. They walked into the boy's room. Sherlock pointed to a bed. "The boy sleeps here every night, gazing at the only light source outside the corridor. He'd reconize every shape, every outline. The silhouette of everyone who came to the door."

"Okay, so..." Lestrade said.

"So someone approaches the door, someone who he doesn't reconize. An intruder. Maybe he can even see the outline of the weapon. What'd he do? In the precious few seconds before they came into the room, how would he use them if not to cry out, this little boy, this particular little boy, who reads all of those spy books, what would he do?" Sherlock asked.

"He'd leave a sign." Alex said.

Sherlock started sniffing and checking around the room. He found a bottle behind the nightstand. He sniffed it and his eyes widened.

"Get Anderson!" He said.

When Anderson got there, he'd brought a glowstick-thing. The windows were drawn and the lights were turned off. Sherlock drew the instrument over the wall behind the nightstand. The words that had fromed read, "Help us."

"Linseed oil. Not much use." Anderson said. "Doesn't lead us to the kidnapper."

"Brilliant, Anderson." Sherlock said.

"Really?" Anderson said.

"Yes, brilliant impression of an idiot." Sherlock said. "Floor."

"He made a trail for us." Alex said.

"Boy was made to walk in front of them." Sherlock said.

"Um, on tiptoe?" John said.

"Indicates anxiety, gun held to his head. The girl is pulled beside him, dragged sideways." Sherlock said, leading them out into the hall. "He had his left arm cradled about her neck."

"That's the end of it." Anderson said when they got to end of the trail. "We don't know where they went from here. Tells us nothing at all."

"You're right, Anderson." Sherlock said. "Nothing. Except his shoe size, his hieght, his gait, his walking pace."

He ripped off one of the curtains and got on the floor. Alex sat down next to him as he used an instrument to pick off some of the wood on the floor containing the Linseed oil. Alex kneeled down next to him.

"Having fun?" She asked.

"Starting to." Sherlock smiled.

"I wouldn't smile." Alex said. Sherlock tilted his head at her. "Kidnapped children."

After Sherlock had gotten what he needed, they got a cab for St. Barts. Alex sat in the middle of John and Sherlock. John turned to Sherlock.

"How'd they get past the CCTV if all the doors were locked?" John asked.

"He walked in when they weren't locked." Sherlock said.

"A stranger can't just walk into a school like that." John said.

"Anyone can walk in anywhere if they pick the right moment." Sherlock said. "Yesterday, end of term with parents milling around, chauffeurs, staff? What's one more stranger around that lot? He was waiting for them. All he had to do was find a place to hide."

When they got to St. Barts, Molly was walking out of the lab. Sherlock opened the door just as she was about to leave.

"Molly!" He said.

"Oh, hey. I'm just going out." Molly said.

Sherlock turned her around. "No, you're not."

"I've got a lunch date!" Molly said.

"Cancel it. You're having lunch with me and Alex." Sherlock said.

"What?" Molly said.

"Need your help." Sherlock said. "It's one of your old boyfriends. We're trying to track him down. He's been a bit naughty."

"It's Moriarty." John said.

"Of course it's Moriarty!" Sherlock said.

"Jim wasn't actually even my boyfriend. We went out three times." Molly said. "I ended it."

Alex burst out laughing. Molly Hooper, the timid pathologist, had broken up with Jim Moriarty, the most dangerous man on earth. Alex put her arm around Molly's shoulder.

"This is why you're my best friend." She said.

"I thought I was you're best friend!" Sherlock said. "Anyways, and then he stole the crown jewels, broke into the Bank of England, and organized the prison bank at Pentonville. For the sake of law and order, I suggest you avoid all future attempts at a relationship, Molly."

Molly sighed and put her lab coat back on. Sherlock went into the lab and sat in his usual spot and Alex sat beside him. Molly brought in a stack of books that she looked like she was struggling to carry. Alex helped her.

"Alex, oil." Sherlock said. "The oil in the kidnapper's footprint. It'll lead us to Moriarty. All the chemical traces on his shoe have been preserved. The sole of the shoe is like a passport. If we're lucky, we can see everything he's been up to."

Sherlock looked at the oil under a microscope. Alex pushed to see. Sherlock enjoyed how much she loved looking through the microscope. Molly put on her rubber gloves. Sherlock held out his hand to her.

"I need that analysis." He said.

Molly tested the liquid on the slide with a special strip of paper. The part she was testing turned blue. She checked the chart she had next to her.

"Aconite." She said.

"Thank you, John." Sherlock said.

"Molly." Molly corrected.

"Yes." Sherlock said.

Sherlock wrote down everything he got from the tests on a sheet of paper. He turned to Alex, who was playing on her phone. She then got up to go get something from the vending machine. Sherlock somehow felt hurt from this, but turned back to the microscope.

"I.O.U." Sherlock whispered. "And this raw molecule. What are you?"

"What did you mean, I.O.U.?" Molly asked. "You said I.O.U., you were muttering while you were working."

"Nothing, mental note." Sherlock said quickly.

"You look a bit like my dad." Molly said, turning to Sherlock. "He's dead. Oh, sorry."

"Molly, please don't feel the need to make conversation." Sherlock said. "It's really not your area."

"When he was dying, he was always cheerful." Molly continued. "He was lovely, except when he thought no one could see. I saw him once. He looked sad."

"Molly..." Sherlock said slowly.

"You look sad when you think she can't see you." Molly said. Sherlock's eyes flicked up to Alex, who had returned. She was still on her phone. He looked back to Molly. "Are you okay? And don't say you are, because I know what that means, looking sad when you think no one can see."

"You can see me." Sherlock said.

"I don't count." Molly said. "What I'm trying to say is, if there's anything I can do, anthing you need, anything at all, you can have me. No, I mean...it's fine.."

"But what could I need from you?" Sherlock asked.

"Nothing, I don't know." Molly said. "You could probably say thank you, actually."

"Thank you." Sherlock said, the words sounding weird as they rolled off his tounge.

"I'm just gonna go get some crisps." Molly said. "Do you want anything? It's okay, I know you don't."

"Well, maybe I-" Sherlock started.

"I know you don't." Molly said, walking out of the room.

"Hey, Sherlock..." Alex said, looking at one of the pictures John was looking at. "This envelope was in her trunk. There's another one."

"What?" Sherlock said.

"On our doorstep." Alex said, grabbing the envelope out of her jacket. "I found it today. Look, it has the exact same seal."

Sherlock looked inside the envelope. Alex looked over his shoulder. Sherlock finally felt a little comfortable again, now that Alex was back on the case. He picked up the powder inside it.

"Bread crumbs." He said.

"Oh...so it wasn't powder..." Alex said. "But it was there when I got back."

"Little trace of bread crumbs. Hardback copy of fairy tales." Sherlock said. "Two children led into the forest by a wicked father, follow a little trail of bread crumbs."

"That's Hansel and Grettal." John said. "What sort of kidnapper leaves clues?"

"The sort that likes to boast, the sort who thinks it's all a game." Sherlock said. "He sat in our flat and he said those exact words to me. All fairy tales need a good old-fashioned villain. Now, the fifth substance, it's all part of the tale. The witch's house! The glycerin molecule! PGPR, it's used in making chocolate!"

Sherlock drove to Scotland Yard. Lestrade met him at the door. As they were walking up to Lestrade's office, Lestrade handed Sherlock a sheet of paper.

"This fax arrived an hour ago." Lestrade said. Sherlock looked at the fax.

Hurry up, they're dying!

"What have you got for us?" Lestrade said.

"We'll find a place in the city where all five of these things intersect." Sherlock said, handing Lestrade the sheet of paper he'd written everything down on.

"Chalk, asphalt, brick dust, vegitation." Lestrade said. He paused for a second. "What is this, chocolate?"

"I think we're looking for a disused sweets factory. We need to narrow that down." Sherlock said.

"A sweet factory?" Lestrade said.

"No, no, too general." Sherlock shook his head. "Need something more specific. Chalk, chalky clay. That's a far thinner brand of geology."

Sherlock shut everything out and went to his mind palace. He looked around for any buildings he might remember that had to do with this.

"Brick dust?" Lestrade said.

"Building site, bricks from the 1950's." Sherlock muttered to himself.

"There's thousands of building sites in London." Lestrade said, putting his face in his hands.

"I've got people out looking." Sherlock said, exiting his mind palace.

"So have I!" Lestrade said.

"Homeless Network, faster than the police." Sherlock said. "Far more relaxed about taking bribes."

Sherlock's phone beeped and he got it out of his coat pocket. They were all pictures that his Homeless Network had sent to him. He smirked at Lestrade and looked at the pictures. All of disused factories. There was also one of a flower.

"John, Alex." Sherlock said, showing them the picture. "Rhododendron Ponticum. Matches...Addlestone."

"What?" Lestrade said.

"There's a mile of disused factories between the river and the park." Sherlock said. "It matches everything."

"Come on, come on!" Lestrade shouted.

They all got into cars and drove to Addlestone. When they got there, everyone ran into the buildings. Sally started pointing to people.

"You, look over there! Look everywhere!" She said. "Spread out, please! Spread out!"

Sherlock, Alex, and John went together as usual. They all had flashlights. Sherlock told them to be quiet. They found a pile of chocolate wrappers with a candle in the middle of them.

"This was alight moments ago." Alex said. "You can still see the smoke coming up."

"They're still here!" Sherlock called. Lestrade came running over. "Sweet wrappers. What's he been feeding you, Hansal and Grettal?" He sniffed one of the wrappers and licked it. He drew his tounge back, disgusted by the taste. "Mercury."

"What?" Lestrade asked.

"The papers, they're painted with mercury! Lethal." Sherlock said. "The more the stuff they ate..."

"He was killing them." Alex said.

"There's not enought to kill them on its own. Taken in large enough quantities, it eventually would kill them." Sherlock said. "He didn't need to be here for the execution. Murder by remote control. He could be a thousand miles away. The hungrier they got, the more they ate, the faster they died. Neat!"

"Shut up, now!" Alex said.

"Over here!" Sally yelled. She had found the kids.

They drove the kids back to Scotland Yard, where the brother, who was unconcious, was examined by doctors. Sherlock, John, and Alex sat in the waiting room. Sherlock was pacing. Sally came in the room.

"Right then. The professionals are finished, if the amateurs wanna go in and have their turn." She said. Alex glared at her.

"You're just jealous." She said. Sherlock shook his head at Alex and turned to Lestrade.

"Now, remember, she's in shock and she's just seven years old, so..." Lestrade said. "Anything you can do to-"

"Not be myself." Sherlock finished.

"Yeah, might be helpful." Lestrade said.

"I'll keep him in line. Don't worry." Alex said.

They went into the room where the girl was. Alex smiled warmly. Sherlock forced a grin, even though the child wasn't looking at them. He took a deep breath.

"Claudette, I-"

Sherlock was cut off when the girl started screaming. Alex jumped back. Sherlock kneeled down ignoring it.

"I know it's been hard for you, Claudette, listen to me-" He said. Lestrade grabbed Sherlock.

"Out!" He said. "Out! Get out!"

Sherlock was dragged out of the room. Alex and John came alongside him. Alex turned to Lestrade.

"You want me to see if I can try anything?" She asked.

"No." Lestrade shook his head.

"It makes no sense." John said.

"The kid's traumatized." Lestrade said. "Something about Sherlock reminds her of her kidnapper.

"What else has she said?" John asked.

"Hasn't utterted another syllable." Sally said.

"And the boy?" John asked.

"No, he's unconcious." Lestrade said. "Still in intensive care."

Sherlock was looking out a window. The lights in the rooms of the building across from him flickered on. Painted in red paint of the windows was, I.O.U. Sherlock's eyes widened. The lights flickered off again.

"Look, don't let it get to you, I always feel like screaming when you walk into a room." Lestrade said. Alex laughed. "Actaully, most people. Come on."

John walked out of the room with Lestrade. Alex stayed with Sherlock, not wanting to leave until he did. Sally turned to Sherlock before he exited.

"Great work you did, finding those kids from just a footprint." She said. "It's really amazing."

"Thank you." Sherlock said.

"Unbelievable." Sally said. Sherlock slowed a little, but then picked up his pace again. He and Alex walked outside to where John was waiting.

"You okay?" John asked, hailing a cab.

"Thinking." Sherlock said as the cab pulled up. "This is me and Alex's cab, you get the next one."

"Why?" John asked. "Why does she get to go everywhere with you?"

"Because you might talk." Sherlock said, climbing in.

"See you back at the flat." Alex said to John, climbing in beside Sherlock.

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The next chapter is gonna be hard to write because it's that whole, "Are you ready for the story?" thing and that's really confusing. When I first saw that part, I got SO SCARED. I had no idea what was happening.