A/N - Warning: Distressing scenes

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Rita had been swift enough to cover her eyes, but the bleach still splashed onto her bare neck and legs and had begun to soak into her dress. The burning sensation occurred too fast for it to really be bleach (so God knows what had really been thrown over her) but the excruciating wave of pain flooded over her instantly.

Elizabeth watched with wide eyes as this happened, transfixed by the surreality of the scene. The liquid had been clear, it had looked like water, perhaps it even was in an effort to intimidate them but the ungodly scream that left her friend's lips as she stumbled back into the toilets shocked the thief into action. Chemical burns. Everyone knew chemical burns had to be treated with water to lessen the impact.

"Rita! Rita come over to the sinks - " Elizabeth spoke, her voice trembling as she reached out to guide her, her hand just brushing Rita's back.

"Don't touch me!" She shrieked, hands still covering her eyes in the fear of letting the chemical damage her sight and Elizabeth too, "Water! I - Water, where!? Please!?"

Rita's shrill cries of agony and incoherent pleading sent shivers down Elizabeth's spine and teased tears from her eyes. What could she use to wash her down with water? Chucking the card and present on the sink, she grabbed the small plastic bin that had been placed in the toilets by the last sink, ripping out the rubbish bag and wasting no time in trying to fill it with water from the taps.

"Just hang on, Reet, please, oh God, please." The thief's voice broke but she swallowed, yelling for help as she filled the bin.

Elizabeth could feel the panic rising in her as she heard Dr Rahat fall to the floor, lying on her back, still sobbing hysterically at the feeling of her skin sizzling.

The thief left the tap running and turned around with the bin half full of water. It might not have been as sanitary as one would have liked but it was the most efficient method she had to her disposal.

"Rita, it's gonna be okay, I'm gonna pour water over you, it's gonna be okay..." She kept repeating, unsure of who she was trying to reassure more as she gently let the clear, cooling liquid wash over Rita, matting her black hair to her face.

She turned to fill the bin again, pained at hearing Rita's cries dissipate into piteous, tortured groans. That's when she saw Sherlock in the corner of her eye. The lovers shared a look - it was all the communication they needed for him to know what to do. He drew his phone out of his pocket as he left the room.

Turning to gently flood water over her body again, tearing up at seeing the horrible red welts appearing on Rita's hands and legs, she heard another person enter. Elizabeth looked up to see Mycroft, a rare expression of emotion apparent on his face as he saw his significant other, writhing on the floor.

And all because of Moriarty's obsession with her.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Once the paramedics arrived, they saw to Rita (in the practically flooded women's toilets) right away. Elizabeth, Sherlock and Mycroft watched wordlessly as they put her onto a stretcher.

The entire restaurant watched just as silently as she was carted out to the ambulance.

"I should - go with her." Mycroft mumbled but didn't move to go.

Sherlock nodded, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder, "Go." He urged, "I'll find out who did this."

"I know who did this." Elizabeth muttered, a hint of anger in her tone, "And over my dead body will he get away with it."

Mycroft found that he knew he would have scowled at her for causing all this trouble but rationally knew that was unfair, especially since he knew how close she and Rita had gotten. All the government official did was nod at her statement before slowly heading out after his injured partner.

"Who did this?" Sherlock asked quietly, already making a guess of his own.

"Jim." Fury was quickly finding its way into the forefront of her brain, "When I was about to head back out, I opened the cubicle door to see him. He wanted to give us a birthday present. I refused but then Rita came in and I - " Her voice shook, "I saw that sadistic spark light up in his eyes when he saw her. And I thought I had descalated it but I should have known he wouldn't let it go."

"Moriarty is unpredictable at best. No one could have known what he would do."

This statement didn't quash her vexation though.

"You mentioned a present?"

Elizabeth turned around to grab the card and box off the sink and handed them to Sherlock.

"He said it was a case."

Sherlock scanned over each object but nothing stood out about them at first glance. He opened the card first. The front was a generic 'Happy Birthday' card design but the interior was what caught their eye.

"Is that blood?" She asked.

Sherlock nodded as he analysed the crimson words, "'To the happy birthday couple, I gift you a crime: I tell you now, this man was hardly devout; if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out.'" Sherlock frowned thoughtfully, "Last line is from a Bible passage - Matthew, chapter five: verse twenty-nine. The passage talks about adultery."

"So we're looking for an adulterer?"

"That's what we can assume for now."

Sherlock then opened the petite present and inhaled sharply, turning the contents away from Elizabeth. But the thief persisted in trying to see.

"Sherlock, what is it?"

Reluctantly, he turned it too her and she grimaced.

"Is that - ?"

"The eye of the adulterer."

"Sherlock? Elizabeth?"

The two looked up from the items, Sherlock snapping the box shut again to prevent anyone else's distress. Violet walked in while the police still hadn't arrived.

"Mother, please don't touch anything. It's an active crime scene."

She raised her hands in defence, "I won't. Siger and I are going to meet Mycroft at the hospital, are you coming?"

Sherlock shook his head and raised the card and box slightly, "I have a case. I'm going to find who did this."

Violet nodded, proud and worried about her son at the same time, "And Elizabeth, we don't know if what Mycroft said was true or not but - if you have something to tell us then I do hope you will be comfortable enough to do so in future."

Elizabeth gave an appreciative nod, "Thank you."

"Be safe. And happy birthday for what it's worth, Sherlock."

"Thank you, mother."

And as she turned to leave, a man politely let her exit first.

Lestrade appeared in the door, "There you two are. What the hell happened?"

"Moriarty happened."

"Again?"

Sherlock nodded, "Remember Rita? Moriarty threw what we'll still assume to be bleach over her and left Elizabeth and I a present and card. It's a case."

"Jesus, what a sick bastard. What's the card say? What's in the present?"

"A rhyme written in blood, and relating to a bible verse, and an eye."

"An eye?"

"Yes. Dull green. Fresh."

"Right. I suppose you'll be headed to Bart’s then?"

"Yes. Speak to the staff about any new members and run through the CCTV in here and in the shops on the rest of the street. He's smart but he has to have slipped up at some point. No one's perfect."

Lestrade nodded, "Alright, go. We'll sort it here.

Sherlock looked at Elizabeth, offering his hand to her. She took it as he led her out of the building, letting her grab her tan coat before they left for the bitter night outside, both quietly reflecting on what had occurred.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

The investigative couple entered the darkened hospital lab, each with a look of determined intent on their faces.

"Sherlock, Elizabeth, long time no see!" Molly meekly greeted the detective and thief but her bright look faltered when neither seemed to smile back, "Is everything okay?"

"I need you to extract DNA from this." Sherlock instructed, placing the small open box on the metal table in front of her.

Peering in, she frowned, "Is that - "

"An eye, yes. Can you extract the DNA? I need it now."

"Uh, um, yes. Yes, I can. Right now?"

"Yes." He spoke with a matter of irritated urgency.

The specialist registrar hopped to it as she had always done. Molly could never refuse a task from Sherlock, even if it was clear that he was with Elizabeth now. She wasn't hysterically upset as some may have taken her to be, just saddened by the fact that he hadn't told her. Quietly, Molly was happy for him, happy that he had found another person that saw him as he was: not as a machine or superhuman but merely as an intelligent human with flaws as everyone was.

Elizabeth's phone buzzed and she slipped it out of her coat pocket to see a text:

<Sorry to end your little party so soon but I wanted you and Sherlock on the case. - J.M.>

Elizabeth's eyes burned, her lips quivered and without even processing her feeling, she wildly turned and flung the device on the floor with with a wicked crunch as she let out a frustrated shriek. Both Sherlock and Molly looked up at the thief, eyes rounded with concern at her outburst. Running her hands over her face, she took a breath, drawing her hands down from her eyes and into a praying position, resting them on her lips as she met the looks of the registrar and detective.

"I'm fine." She croaked, letting her hands drop to her sides, "I'm fine."

Sherlock questioned, "What did he say?"

"He did that to her just so we would look at the case." Her voice shook.

"What happened?" Molly asked quietly.

Sherlock looked at her, explaining simply, "Moriarty ended our family meal by throwing a chemical over Elizabeth's friend, just so we would investigate the case he organised."

"Oh God, that's horrible. I'm sorry."

Sherlock nodded, "Elizabeth, are you - "

"Does it look like I am?"

"No."

"Then there's your answer."

"Sherlock, I need you to get me more sodium chloride from the store cupboard. It's downstairs." Molly asked, her eyes focused on extracting the right pieces of the eye with her scalpel and tweezers that they could extract DNA from.

He left right away, but not before placing a reassuring hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. This time, she didn't smile at the touch. Too many other emotions were taking up her system to even process the feeling. The second the door gently closed shut, Molly spoke up again:

"So you and Sherlock?" Hopefully, this would be enough of a conversation to calm her.

"Hm?"

"You and Sherlock, you're together - officially now?"

"Who told you?"

"No one did." Molly smiled reassuringly at her, "I can tell he's changed a bit."

"So he didn't tell you?"

"No." She shook her head, "Can't say I expected it. He's changed but everyone knows he's still very...private. I think he finds it awkward talking about relationships - especially considering the 'high functioning sociopath' facade he keeps up."

Elizabeth found a brief laugh escape her lips at remembering his reaction to his mother back at the flat, "Yeah. Even with his parents." Noting her confusion, the thief elaborated, "He, um, had a full on meltdown because his mother walked in on us kissing. Utter drama queen."

Molly laughed too but there was an echo of woeful jealousy. Elizabeth noticed this.

"I'm sorry."

"Don’t be." Molly was quick to say, smiling softly, "You're...good for him. And I think he's good for you too."

Elizabeth thought Molly was the kindest, most precious person she had ever met.  Smiling sorrowfully back at the registrar, the thief nodded.

"Thank you."

"If you ever need someone to talk to, Elizabeth," Molly said this sincerely, "You know where to find me."

The thief valued this offer of friendship, especially as she didn't know many. Molly was just a lovely person - she didn't know who in the world could ever refuse a more wonderful human being.

Sherlock walked back in, a transparent flask of the chemical Molly had requested in hand. He placed it on the table where the registrar was working and looked between the two women, sensing there had been an ease in the tense atmosphere. Before he could question it, Molly spoke up again:

"I should have this done in a couple of hours." Molly added, "If there's anything else you need to do, I recommend you go and do it otherwise you'll be waiting around for a long time."

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

Mycroft never thought he would be back in a hospital room again so soon and least of all for Rita.

But there she was, laid on the bed in front of him in a hospital gown, drugged into sleeping because of the agony she was in. White dressings decorated the bottom half of her face, neck, fore arms and hands, and legs. Nurses were still sorting out all kinds of medication but the most reassuring thing was her steady heart beat on the monitor.

"Mr Holmes." A doctor pulled the government official aside, "Just wanted to inform you about your wife's condition."

"She's...not my wife." He said this slowly, hesitantly.

"My apologies." The doctor paused, noticing that Mycroft couldn't stop looking at her, "We've managed to stabilise her condition but she has suffered from second degree burns on approximately twenty-four percent of her body, these areas in particular being the places where there was no clothing to protect her skin, so the lower half of her face, neck, hands and shins. For the areas of her body that were protected by her clothing, there are merely superficial burns."

"What will this mean for her?"

"She'll need to stay in hospital for a few nights so we can monitor her condition. Scarring should be minor but - potentially noticeable."

"No - what will this mean for her career as a doctor?"

"Her hands bore the brunt of the chemical. The scarring that may occur could limit her hands' range of motion but we can offer physical and occupational therapy if it comes to it."

Mycroft nodded, speaking an almost silent thank you to the surgeon. Once the nurses left too, Mycroft took a seat by her hospital bed. In a horrible but rational turn of events, the government official found himself blaming his own actions for what had happened. Had he not have tried to throw Elizabeth under the bus, she never would have run off and Rita would have never gone after her therefore meaning she could have had a chance of this trauma not happening to her.

His brow formed more lines than a carefully designed rice paddy as he was tormented by the thoughts of what he could have done.

"I am...sorry." Mycroft whispered to her.

If anyone asked him outright if he felt anything for Rita, he might have denied it. But with the coffee meetings (dates, as Rita would call them) they had shared, he found himself becoming more and more drawn to her. Mycroft Holmes had always thought his heart stone or ice - unbreakable and incapable of warmth. But somehow, Dr Rita Rahat had broken that, even when he doubted that she could get through to him.

But she had.

And now it was showing with the heart ache he felt for her.

The door to Rita's hospital room opened, revealing the three other Holmes' and Elizabeth. The government official felt the need to tell them to go and to never come back in the room again in the fear of baring his vulnerabilities to his family and the thief but he found he didn't have the heart to turn them away.

They all stood on the other side of Rita's bed, silent, waiting for his retaliation which never came.

Mycroft merely let out grievous sigh, clasping his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees and resting his head on his hands.

Mrs Holmes crossed to the other side of the bed, putting a comforting hand on his back. Siger, too, walked around to place a soothing hand on his son's shoulder.

Sherlock merely placed his arm around Elizabeth, drawing her close, and she laid her head in the crook of his neck. No one had any words but they weren't needed.

The sound of the steady beeping was reassuring enough.

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A/N - Can you tell that I struggled with the title of this chap? If you think of a better one hmu 😂