All mistakes are mine (of which there are probably quite a few). :)

Post TAB; TRIGGER WARNING for life-threatening situation.

There was a pounding in her head. Groaning, Molly forced her eyes open and grimaced in pain. She tried to lift her hand but was stopped by a sharp resistance.

'Wher'm I?' She grumbled and lifted her heavy head. She tried to make sense of the blurry figure crouching in front of her.

'Close your eyes,' a voice cooed. She shivered. She knew that voice. Didn't she? 'It's time for Sleeping Beauty to rest.'

She frowned and rolled her head to the side. 'Sh'lock...'

'Yes, my sweet. He'll be here soon.'

The darkness was pulling her back and the last thing she heard was the sound of a phone camera's shutter.

oOo

John ran as fast as he could, trying not to lose sight of Sherlock.

When Sherlock's phone had pinged, he had almost ignored it, too intent on his argument with John over the supposed return of Moriarty.

But he had checked it.

All the blood had drained from his best friend's face and absolute terror filled his eyes. Dropping the phone, Sherlock had turned and raced out the door. John snatched up the phone and his heart nearly stopped at the sight on the screen.

It was a text from Molly Hooper's phone, containing a photo of the small woman shackled to a chair in her kitchen, naked and unconscious. The message underneath was like being plunged into the icy depths of the Thames.

I did promise to burn the heart out of you.

Immediately shifting into Army Doctor mode, John was on Sherlock's heels. Molly's flat was only a half-mile away, but it felt like a marathon as they wove through the crowd.

'MOVE!' Sherlock bellowed. Immediately, the crowd of people on the pavement parted.

As they got closer, the sirens of the fire brigade sounded behind them. They flew past and turned left, an ambulance right behind. John's stomach twisted and he looked up. Not too far away, about where Molly's flat was, a black plume of smoke was filling the sky.

Sherlock skidded around the corner, John right behind, and shoved his way through the gathering crowd. A line of firefighters were unwinding the industrial hose and shouting commands over the noise of the fire and crowd. John's stomach turned over when he realised they didn't know there was anyone inside.

Sherlock jumped the barricade and raced toward the building.

A burly firefighter stepped in his way and held out a hand. 'Sir, you can't go in there. I need you to get back behind the barricade.'

Sherlock didn't even sneer at the man and tried to walk around him. John rushed up to them as the man grabbed Sherlock's arm.

'No, you don't understand,' Sherlock finally spoke, his voice dark and dangerous. 'I need to go inside. Now!'

'Sir, get back behind the barricade!' The firefighter demanded.

Sherlock yanked his arm away and tried to run inside. Several other firefighters jumped in and they held him back.

Sherlock struggled against them. 'Let me go! I need to get to her, I need to save her! Molly! Molly!'

John jumped as a large boom sounded and a window exploded, glass raining down. Flames licked the inside of the window and were spreading fast.

'Molly!' Sherlock bellowed desperately. The muscles in his neck stood out grotesquely as he shouted and strained against the arms that held him back.

John watched in horrified shock as his best friend abandoned all his cold reason and was reduced to the very base of a man who feared for the life of the woman he loved. (There would be time to be surprised by that realisation later.) Right now, foolish and foolhardy as it was, John knew what he had to do; if Mary had been in that building... he couldn't even stomach the thought of it! So, mustering all his strength, he lunged and wrapped his arms around the neck of one of the largest men, pulling him off balance and bringing them both to the ground in a heap.

Sherlock broke free of his loosened restraints and shot like a bullet into the building, pulling his collar over his face.

Sprawled on the pavement, the furious firefighter spitting curses at him before rushing over to man the hose, John watched for any sign of Sherlock or Molly. His gaze darted from the door to the window of Molly's flat and back again, his heart hitting his ribs painfully with each beat.

Minutes ticked by, each second another drop of fear.

Suddenly, there was an ear-shattering explosion. The building shuddered and everyone held their breath. Any second now it would collapse. They had managed to prevent the spread of the fire to the neighboring flats, but Molly's flat and the ones above and below were going to cave.

And anything and anyone beneath it would be crushed.

Just when John was about to lose hope, a shadow shifted in the smoke-filled doorway. The shadow grew more distinguishable and finally manifested into the form of his best friend.

And he was carrying Molly Hooper in his arms, wrapped safely in his soot-covered Belstaff. He stumbled down the steps and managed to get a safe distance away before his legs collapsed underneath him and he fell to his knees.

Behind him, the fire finally overtook the building and, with a deafening crash, the roof collapsed, falling in on itself. Firefighters and medics rushed forward and swarmed around Sherlock, cheers from the crowd watching adding to the cacophony of noise.

John ran over just as the medics were placing oxygen masks over Molly's and Sherlock's faces. Both were sporting mild burns and were covered in soot. Sherlock was hacking desperately, trying to expel the smoke from his lungs. But Molly was still unconscious.

The paramedics hurried to place her on the gurney and wheel her away. John was pushed back as Sherlock tore the mask off his face and struggled to his feet, shoving aside the paramedic trying to examine his burns.

'Sherlock, you need to sit down and let them look over you.' John tried to get his attention, but the detective waved him off. Rolling his eyes with a sigh, John slipped his arm around the taller man's waist and helped him stumble over to the ambulance.

The medics were loading Molly into the back and calling instructions and directions back and forth. Sherlock clambered in after her, ignoring their protests, and sat by her side, grasping her hand tightly.

'Sir, you can't be in here unless you're family,' one of the paramedics snapped.

Sherlock turned a dark glare on the man. 'She is family.'

Annoyed, but unwilling to waste time arguing, the paramedic sighed and let him be. They secured Molly inside and the driver jumped out the back and slammed the doors closed. Through the window, John could see Sherlock leaning down toward Molly's face. And just before the ambulance drove off, siren's blaring, Molly's head rolled toward him and a tender, relieved smile broke across Sherlock's face.

With shaking hands, John pulled his phone out of his pocket.

'Mary? It's me... I need you to meet me at the A&E at Princess Grace.,. No, everything's not all right, but I think it will be soon... I-I'll explain when you get there. I just needed to hear your voice.' He closed his eyes against the burn of tears. 'And tell you how much I love you. I love you so much...'