Sherlock woke up slowly and felt a pounding in his head. It was a horrible throbbing pain. He looked around and immediately noticed the perfectly glowing white and grey room. There was a glass was separating them from a monitor.

He sat up and looked. He saw Mycroft and an Indian man talking to the side. He looked over, and noticed that John was knocked out.

"John. Wake up." Sherlock lightly tapped on his face. Soon it stirred him and John woke up.

"What the bloody hell happened?" John groaned.

Sherlock looked at Mycroft. "Mycroft, what happened? And do tell me the full piece, I don't want to waste time deducing the answer out of you." 

John noticed that even after a lot of the more harrowing adventures Mycroft has joined, Mycroft never expresses general worry or stress. But now was not one of those times.

"I've got some things I need to tell you. You may not like it, but we are in this situation together. Might as well say it." Mycroft flattened out the legs of his pants nervously.

"We were kidnapped by our little sister, Euros. I had her put in Sherrinford, an institute." Mycroft started off.

"Wait, we have a sister?" Sherlock said. "Why is she here? Why don't I know about her?" Sherlock asked him.

John noticed they were both stressed on the matter. "She is more clever, more devious, more intellectual, more EVERYTHING than us." Mycroft emphasized. "She was so dangerous at such a young age, that I had her locked up. Mother and Father think she died in the house fire." 

"What house fire? I'm fairly certain I would remember a little sister." Sherlock said. 

"You were young and you were traumatized after loosing Redbeard. You forced any memory of her and him after she burned the family house down. At age 5 she was smarter than the average college student, and definitely more clever. She decided that she wanted to experiment with her first fire, and she burned the whole house down. After that she was held in an Asylum until I ended up sending her to Sherrinford. It seems that our wonderful director has let her out." Mycroft looked at the Indian man.

"Go ahead. Introduce yourself. Explain." Mycroft pushed.

"I am the director of Sherrinford. I was specifically tasked to make sure Euros never escaped. It seems that she has escaped and has taken over the entire facility." He summed up.

"And how did she escape?" John asked.

He shrugged. "I sort of happened. Apparently she has been gone for a couple of weeks, yet we did not notice her gone. It's a mystery to us, but it seems she has taken us hostage." 

"I still don't remember any of this. I can't have possibly had a little sister. I'm sure that a little trauma would not have deleted my memory of her." Sherlock insisted.

"Then I'll have to give you a reminder. Do you remember a specific song from your youth? About the eat wind?" 

Sherlock thought about it. East Wind did sound familiar.

Mycroft started to speak something. 

"I that am lost, oh who will find me? Deep down below the old beech tree. Help succour me now the east winds blow. Sixteen by six, brother, and under we go! Without your love, he'll be gone before. Save pity for strangers, show love the door. My soul seek the shade of my willow's bloom. Inside, brother mine -. Let Death make a room. Be not afraid to walk in the shade. Save one, save all, come try! My steps - five by seven. Life is closer to Heaven. Look down, with dark gaze, from on high... Before he was gone - right back over my hill. Who now will find him? Why, nobody will. Doom shall I bring to him, I that am queen. Lost here forever, nine by nineteen." Mycroft finished.

Sherlock looked at him for a moment. He seemed to be in a daze. Internally, Sherlock was finally living his suppressed memories.

"Euros... and Redbeard. I remember. You and I talked about Redbeard after he disappeared. Euros started calling Redbeard, 'Drowned Redbeard', so we thought he had drowned somewhere. We looked for him in every lake and river, but couldn't find him. I even followed the song, and I couldn't find him. And then she tried kill us. And then she was gone." Sherlock remembered most of it.

"Correct. Now, Euros, I know you have been listening. Please make yourself known." Mycroft said, looking at the monitor.

It flashed, and a face appeared. She had high cheekbones and smart eyes, with dark hair. A little bit of a crazy look in her eye, but still attractive nonetheless.

"Sherlock. I see you have finally remembered me. Too bad you are missing some key points, but Mycroft isn't allowed to tell you. That is, if he wants you dead, he'll tell you." She smiled.

"Euros. Let us go. We will do what you want. Please." Mycroft pleaded.

She looked at them through the monitor. But she seemed to be looking through them. 

"You don't get it. I've got all the staff members on this facility under my control. I'm very persuasive, you know. I even convinced John to listen to his voicemails with me. I even got him to cry once. It was glorious, wasn't it John?" She looked directly at him.

John tried to recognize her. "I don't recognize you. Unless you were... no. You weren't." John thought. He only listened to his voicemails with one person. His therapist.

"Damnit." Mycroft cursed. 

"Oh! Hello mister director! I almost didn't notice you." She laughed. "I'm just kidding, I notice everything. I've got your wife with me." She turned the swivel chair, and a woman was visibly tied up on the balcony.

"My wife. How did you find her!?" He yelled.

"My sources are not your concern, your concern should be following my orders. Now, Sherlock, go to the right. There's a gun waiting for you." She told him.

A little machine spun around, and Sherlock picked up a gun. There were three bullets inside.

"Now. That gun has three bullets, you know that. It is intended for two murders, and a suicide. If at anytime during my experiment, you decide to take the easy way out, feel free to pull the trigger on yourself. But for now, give the gun to John." She demanded. 

Sherlock sighed and walked over to John. He slowly handed John the gun.

"Good. Now director. You have the choice here. Either John kills Sherlock, Mycroft, or you. The kicker is, Sherlock picks and John shoots. Go." She said. 

The lights turned red, and Moriarty's face was plastered on it.

Tick tock tick tock tick tock. He said. 

The lights went to normal and Euros appeared.

"Don't be alarmed. Moriarty is still dead. But I convinced him to make some videos for me. I've been planning this for many years now. So I wanted to make sure it was planned correctly."

"What happens if John refuses to shoot?" Mycroft asked her.

She smirked. "Then I kill the wife, and I won't let Sherlock solve the case of the abandoned plane."

The intercom changed, and a little girl cried for help.

"Excuse me. Who is this? Where are you?" Sherlock yelled out.

"I'm on a plane and everyone is asleep. I can't wake anyone up, and we're high in the sky. Please send some help. The plane will crash." She cried out. The called was ended abruptly and Euros spoke again.

"Time is ticking for the little girl." 

Tick tock tick tock tick tock.

"Bring me back the girl!" Sherlock exclaimed.

"Play the game!"

Tick tock tick tock tick tock.

John held the gun but didn't aim it.

"You have to choose someone, Sherlock. Or else the whole plane will go down. Lives are at stake." John urged him.

Sherlock stood them and looked between the three of them. He kept thinking of ideas, way to avoid the outcome. He couldn't think of anything. 

"I can't. I can't pick any of you. I can't condemn and innocent." Sherlock told them.

"A couple years ago you would have killed anyone for the greater good. Now all of a sudden you can't!" Mycroft yelled.

"I changed Mycroft! I have some feeling in me, and every bit of it is telling me not to name anyone!" Sherlock yelled at him.

"Stop!" The director silenced them. He turned to John. "Kill me. If it means my wife will live, then shoot me."

Tick tock tick tock tick tock.

John stood there quiet for a moment. "Are you sure?" 

"I'm sure. Just make it quick." He walked towards John.

John slowly rose his gun. His hands were shaking slightly. "Wait." He said. He grabbed a pillow and turned the director around. He pressed the gun to the pillow, and to the backside of his head.

"Forgive me." He whispered.

Tick tock tick tock tick tock.

John put his finger on the trigger.

Tick tock tick tock tick tock.

His hands were shaking. "I can't." John finally said. He lowered the gun. "I can't shoot you."

The director stood up and looked at him gravely.

He tackled John and took the gun. He pressed it to his temple. Before anyone could yell, he shot himself. 

"No!" Sherlock yelled in defeat. 

Mycroft leaned on the wall and dry heaved. John crawled away from the director. He had blood splatter on his clothes.

"There! You got what you wanted!" Sherlock yelled at Euros. She shook her head. She turned and fired a gun at the wife. It traveled though the glass and through her heart.

"I made a deal that you choose and John shoots. That deal was never carried out." She told him. 

"Oh god"

Euros smiled. "But I like seeing you flustered. So I'll let you continue to talk to the little girl."

The intercom buzzed, and the girl was back on line.

"Hello. Can you hear me?" Sherlock called out.

"It's really dark and everyone's still sleeping. Why can't I get them to wake up?" She asked.

"Listen, don't worry about that right now. To save you, I need to know where you are. Do you know where you are?" Sherlock asked.

"I don't know. We're over an ocean." She told him.

The call ended.

Sherlock yelled out in anger. "NO! Let me speak with her!" 

Mycroft finally composed himself and helped John up. A door opened to the side.

"Please continue through the door if you want to listen to the girl again." Euros told them. The lights flashed red then turned to normal.

The three slowly walked into the next room. In the room was a bay window and a label with some information. Euros moved to the monitor in that room, and the door closed.

"Three young men are suspects for a murder. Who did it? Solve the case and you can speak to the girl again." The screen blackened.

"This is ridiculous. We can't possibly continue with all her experiments. She's just going to kill us in the end." Mycroft gave up.

John got angry with him. "This may not be the ideal situation, but we have very limited choices at the moment. There's a plane in the sky full of victims, and we have the chance to save that plane!" 

Sherlock picked up the papers and read over them. John picked up the rifle that was mounted, and looked through it.

"He wasn't wearing glasses." John told Sherlock. He turned over the picture of the man with glasses.

"What's taking so long, Sherlock?" Euros flashed back on the monitor. "Turn around for a surprise." 

They looked at the window, and down drop three men, tied up, with the name's of the suspects hanging from their necks. 

"Condemn one. You've got a minute."

Mycroft scrambled for the papers and read them through. He looked at the gun.

"The one in the middle. He did it. I'm positive." Mycroft told them.

"How do you know?" John asked.

"He's the only one who doesn't wear glasses and doesn't have early onset cataracts. I'm sure of it." 

Sherlock was going to protest, but the room buzzed.

"Correct! Congratulations, you solved the case. Good job Mycroft." They watch as the two innocent men fell, leaving the guilty there.

John tapped at the window. "You said condemn one! You backed out of your agreement!" John accused.

The last one was dropped. "There you go, Mr. Watson. Now the guilty has been condemned. I did this to show that not all that are innocent, are not guilty." She opened the next door.

"Please proceed to the next room. There's a plane somewhere that needs saving." The screen blackened. Sherlock, Mycroft, and John walked through to the next room, and the door closed.

In the room was a small empty casket. The intercom turned on.

"Hello?" A little girl asked.

"Yes, it's me. I'm back." Sherlock said quickly.

"Please don't leave me again." She pleaded.

"I won't. Just. I need you to cooperate. Tell me what you see outside." Sherlock told her.

"All I see is an ocean... and a city in the distance." She told him.

The call ended, and Euros flickered back on the monitor.

"This casket fits someone that loves you very dearly. Who is it?" She asked.

Tick tock tick tock tick tock.

Sherlock walked around the casket and read it like a book.

"The list of people that love Sherlock can't be that long." Mycroft insisted.

"Irene Adler?" John guessed. 

"No. It is to an unmarried woman who has no immediate family members, and she's quite short and homely. Irene Adler wouldn't even be able to fit in here." Sherlock canceled it out.

"Molly Hooper? I remember once upon a time, she confessed her love to you." Mycroft brought up.

Sherlock thought about it. "It has to be Molly Hooper's. It fits perfectly." He turned to the monitor. "It's Molly, isn't it!"

"Correct you are, Sherlock. Now." The camera turned to show a video. It showed Molly in her flat. She was cutting up some cheese.

"Why are you showing us this?" John asked her. In the corner was a count down clock.

Euros's laughter was audible over the speaker. "I put a bomb in her flat. She's has approximately three minutes till it goes off, unless you make her say something to you."

John looked to the back of the room. He turned the top of the casket over. It said 'I love you' in silver plating. Sherlock knew what he had to say, and the thought of it made his blood boil.

"I'm calling her. Let's hope she picks up." Euros switched the intercom. The phone started to ring. In the camera footage, Molly notices the phone and caller ID. But she ignores it. 30 seconds go by, and it goes to voicemail. Euros calls her a second time. But this time she picks up.

"What is it, Sherlock?" Molly answered.

"Oh thank god you picked up. I have something extremely important that I need you to say to me. It is very needed." Sherlock told her very carefully. "I need you to say 'I love you'. Please."

John and Mycroft watched Molly's face turn sour. "Is this some sort of game? I don't want to be apart of your little experiments." She said. She was about to hang up, but Sherlock got her attention.

"I love you! Please. I love you, and right now, I need you to say it back. Please, Molly. I need to hear it." Sherlock pleaded. 

Molly wavered for a moment. She paused for a long time, and Sherlock kept pleading for her. They had under 20 seconds.

"So this isn't a game?" Molly asked.

"No, no it isn't. I just need to hear it. Please!" Sherlock pleaded. 10 seconds.

There was a pause. "I... I love you, too." Molly finally said. The clock stopped counting down, and the call ended.

Sherlock's body relaxed.

"You did it Sherlock. You did it." John told him. Sherlock still seemed utterly depressed about saying it.

"I don't understand why you are cheering. There was no real bomb in her flat. Do you think I would be that reckless?" Euros told them. "I just wanted to see how far you would go. And you proved this to me by ruining yourself in three words." Euros smiled.

Sherlock's whole face dropped. The door opened for them to continue.

Sherlock walked over to the lid of the casket. He placed it on the coffin. And in a fit of rage, he smashed it with his hand. And then again. And again. He completely destroyed the casket, and slide down the wall.

John walked over to him, and hugged him in an awkward position, trying to comfort him.

"I know this is torturing you, but we need to continue. You needs your wits about you." John told him. Sherlock's head dipped down.

"This isn't torture, this is vivisection! We are the lab rats." Sherlock corrected.

John let go and stood up. He reached a hand down for Sherlock.

"It is what it is. And we can't change that." John told him. Sherlock looked up at John's hand.

"It is what it is." He repeated. John helped him up, and they walked to the next room. The door closed. 

Unlike the other rooms, this one was pure white and clean.

Euros flickered back on the monitor. "Congratulations! This is the last room you will be in! You are one step away from becoming free." Euros cheered. "Or should I say one bullet away?"

Sherlock pulled the gun out and aimed at the monitor. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. You need a bullet to shoot someone in this room. You have to choose between John or Mycroft. Friend or family. You have one minute to decide." 

Tick tock tick tock tick tock.

The lights turned back on. 

Mycroft fixed his jacket buttons. "It was nice knowing you. You were a great man. Now go ahead and shoot, Sherlock." Mycroft said.

John and Sherlock looked at him funnily.

Mycroft addressed John. "You were a good friend to Sherlock, and I am grateful that you have straightened him out a little. It was nice knowing you, but we need great minds to get out of here." 

"Shoot him." Mycroft told Sherlock. John backed away.

"I'm not shooting him. I can't. I vowed to protect him." Sherlock said. 

Mycroft visibly sagged. "Then shoot me. But not in the brain. Maybe the heart." Mycroft settled. He removed his tie.

Sherlock looked between the two. It was obvious that both did not want to die. 

Sherlock flipped the gun and placed the barrel right under his chin.

"10, 9,-" Sherlock counted down.

"No. Don't!" Euros exclaimed.

"Please don't do it Sherlock!" John pleaded.

John and Mycroft scrambled to grab the gun from Sherlock.

Just as Sherlock hit the number 2, darts shot out of the wall. It hit them all in the neck. Within a second, they all fell to the ground, unconscious.

John sputtered awake. He accidentally inhaled water as he gasped for air. He shot up and looked around. It was pitch black. He felt water that was up to his waist.

"Hello!" John called. He heard his own echo. 

"John. John!" Sherlock called. It sounded like it was from a phone. "Where are you!?"

John felt the walls. "I'm not quite sure. The walls are rough." He jerked his leg. "Fuck." He cursed.

"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked. 

John felt a shackle around his foot. "I'm chained to the ground, and there is rising water. It's up to my waist." It was raining slightly, but it was slowly getting stronger. "I don't have long till I drown." He said.

"Can you feel anything around you? Can you feel the bottom of the water?" Sherlock asked.

 John dunked down and pulled up a small bone. "I think there's dog bones here with me." 

He could hear Sherlock breathing hard. "Good. Good. I'll get you out, alright. I prom-" The called shut off.

"Shit shit shit. Sherlock! Help ! Sherlock!" John yelled. But all he heard was echos.

He was already soaking to the bone, and freezing. He sunk down into the water, and moved around to keep his body from freezing. If he stayed still, the air would be the first thing to kill him, not the water.

John moved around and exhausted himself as he tried to keep warm. The rain was pouring down fast, and the water was rising. He wouldn't have too much time.

John did this for awhile. He wasn't sure how long. The water was now up to his chest and the rain was pouring down fast. He was moving his feet around, when he kicked something large. He dived down and grabbed it. He brought it out of the water and looked at it. He nearly choked when he held up the object. It seemed that some moonlight had finally peered into the area. He heard a voice return.

"John! I'm back! I'm close to finding you." He said.

"S-Sherlock. These aren't d-dog bones..." He shivered. "It's the bones of a ch-child." John held a child's skull in front of his own eyes. 

Sherlock was silent for awhile. The moon moved some more, and now it was peering directly down. He looked up and immediately realized where he was.

"I'm in a w-well. Th-The water is r-rising quickly. I-I don't have much l-longer." John told him. His shivering got worse. 

The call ended.

John felt so tired from shivering and struggling. He was now floating in the water, not touching the bottom. The water had risen to his neck.

He relaxed his body and kept his head afloat.

'Please find me, Sherlock.' John thought to himself.

Reinforcements came and Sherlock directed them to the well.

"I'm going in." Sherlock told them.

Sherlock couldn't see anything inside the well, but he still threw his legs over and jumped in. 

The fall wasn't as long, and he splashed in the water. He felt around, and found a head. He tried pulling up, but John couldn't surface.

Sherlock immediately pulled his knife out and dove down. He grabbed onto the rope, and started to cut away at the rope. He managed to free John, and he floated up.

Sherlock surfaced and kept John's head above the water. His eyes were closed but he had a pulse. The rope dropped down and Sherlock tied it to both of them.

The private police pulled him and John out of the well and onto the ground.

Sherlock laid John flat on the ground and started doing chest compressions.

"Come on John! You are stronger than this!" Sherlock pleaded. He ball his fist and slammed down on John's chest. He awoke sputtering water and choking it up.

Sherlock helped him to sit up, and John coughed up the water. Sherlock held him tight in a hug.

John passed out, but his pulse was now stable. Sherlock picked him up and carried him to the ambulance trucks in front of the burned down home. In another truck, he saw Euros being locked inside and driven away.

The paramedics stripped him of most of his wet clothes and wrapped him in a heating blanket.

It only took a moment for him to wake up. Sherlock held him sit up.

"Is it over?" John coughed a little more. He looked around, but his vision was slightly blurry from the water.

"It's over. Euros is being sent somewhere knew, and she promised not to break out again. You're safe now." Sherlock assured him. He helped him off of the gurney and they sat on the edge of it. 

"Are you alright?" John asked Sherlock. 

Instead of an answer, Sherlock came right out and hugged John. John sat there for a moment, but reciprocated the hug.

"I'm glad you're still alive. Who else would I have to hug?" Sherlock joked weakly.

"Anyone would hug you Sherlock. It's not like you need me to hug you." John argued.

Sherlock nodded. "That is true. But you are the only John Watson that will hug me." 

The two released each other, and watched Mycroft walk towards them.

"Don't let me interrupt a sentimental moment between you two. Keep hugging. It's the only time I've seen him hug anyone without being forced to." Mycroft told them.

John wrapped the blanket around his body a little tighter. He was still shaking from the cold.

"When can you get us out of here?" Sherlock asked him.

Just as he said that, they heard a plan fly from overhead.

"Right now. Let's go." Mycroft lead the two to a car, then to a private airport. They climbed into a private jet and were flown back to London.

"This has been one hell of day." John had to admit.

"Hell of two days. But I'm glad we are back. For once in my life, I'm glad to be back in London." Sherlock smiled.

When he noticed John staring, he stopped smiling.

"Don't make me stop you. I'm glad you're smiling for once. It reminds me how human you actually are."

The two exited the car and walked back into their flat.

221B Baker St.