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Chapter Text

John stirs in his sleep. His brow twitching as he lets out a small breath of panic. He rolls onto his side, wrapping his arms across his chest, pulling his knees up to his chest.

Beneath him an old beat up mattress that sat upon a rusty bedframe and a pillow that barely had any stuffing in it. The only thing keeping him warm aside from his now dirtied clothes was the thin sheet that came with the bed.

"Sherlock..."

John slowly opens his tired, heavy eyes. His gaze straight ahead to the white padded walls. Walls that he has seen every day for what felt like an eternity. Walls that he was sure his best friend would have saved him from by now.

He sits himself up in the bed, leaning back against the wall with a depressed sigh as he looks around his prison.

The room itself empty, minus the bed and a small bedside table. It was Damp. Windowless. Brightly lit by the fluorescent lights in the ceiling, which were controlled by people on the outside. The padded walls indicating he was trapped inside an asylum. Only this one a little less kept. The discoloration on the padding and the rusted state of the bed telling John it was more than likely abandoned.

Much like him.

By his supposed best friend, Sherlock.

"Why haven't you come yet?" He mumbled quietly under his breath.

John tosses himself back onto his side, pulling the blanket over his head as he closes his eyes tightly. His chest tight as he tries his best to hold back his tears. From beneath the blanket, he hears the familiar click of the large door unlocking, followed by the creek of the hinges and then finally the foot steps.

"This is starting to get boring" A familiar Irish voice coos. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Jim Moriarty approaches John's bed with a tray of food in his hands he sets it down on the bedside table before taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

"I'm starting to think Sherlock has gotten tired of his pet!" Jim continues as he takes a firm grasp of the blanket around John's head, ripping it away. "Three weeks, John! Three weeks I have waited. And waited. And waited. And has he even made an attempt to find his lost pet? No! He hasn't accepted my invite to come over and play. He won't return my calls. Not even a single text message!"

As his cover is removed, John's hands instinctively cover his head as he tucks his chin into his chest. He begins to tremble, curling up into himself as he continues to try and hide from his captor. His heart sinking at the realization that it had already been three weeks and there really hadn't been a single word from Sherlock. His best friend should have been here, running foolishly into this trap as he always did.

"Shhh..."

Jim places a gentle hand on John's head as he begins running his fingers through his hair. His head tilted to the side as his hand slides through John's hair and to his face. He forces John's hand out of the way as he takes John's chin, forcing the frightened man to look at him.

"I was considering just ending this. Put you out of your misery. Send the remains to Sherlock" His tone softens as his thumb gentry traces John's chin. His twisted grin sending chills up John's spine. "But, look at how pathetic you are! It's almost adorable" Jim jumps up off the bed as he becomes more dramatic in his words. He crouches down beside the bed, leaning close to John's face, this time cupping his hands over John's cheeks as he stares him in the eyes.

"I can't kill that cute pathetic face of yours. But I don't know what to do with you..."

John stares back at Jim, his eyes trying to plea with the man to just let him go. After all, if Sherlock wasn't coming after three weeks, what use was he anyway? Then again, where would John go if he did release him? The mix of sadness. Anger. Defeat. All the emotions inside, eating away at John as he processes the fact that he had indeed been abandoned like a puppy whose child had gotten bored with.

Jim let's go of John's face, letting out a small sigh as his expression softens.

"What to do...what to do...."

Chapter Text

3 weeks earlier:

John paces around the livingroom of 221b. He pinches the bridge of his nose with frustration while Sherlock simply sits in his usual chair and sips on his tea.

"I don't understand why you're acting like such a child" Sherlock says in a calm and confused voice.

As the words pass through his lips, John stops in his steps. He lowers his hand as he looks to his friend. His brows furrowed with frustration as he tries so hard to hold back his tongue.

"All I ask is for one afternoon" He states with a firm and serious tone. "An afternoon of just me. My date. Alone. No Sherlock"

"But what fun could you possibly have without me around?" Sherlock questions as he takes another sip of his tea. "I'm the life of the party!"

______________________

It was getting harder for John to meet women, and when the odd one did turn up in his life, he really wanted nothing more than to make a good impression. He tried to impress his dates with romantic nights out. Flowers. Dancing. Dinner.

However now that Sherlock was in his life, John was starting to learn it was nearly impossible to get any time alone. This was a lesson he should have learned back when he was with Sarah and Sherlock had generously given him tickets to the circus, only to find Sherlock had taken that opportunity to invite himself and turn it into the case.

One woman John had brought over, Sherlock had immediately criticized her wardrobe and perfume choices, stating that she was clearly trying to get back at an old ex by using John to make him jealous.Their date ended in less than an hour. Unfortunately, Sherlock was right about that one.

In fact he was right about all the women.

Desperate.

Trying to hard.

Scam artist.

Even the ones who were good people, generally didn't last. And it wasn't because of John, but because of how blunt Sherlock was. The fact that everywhere John Watson went, Sherlock wasn't far behind. The man trying to keep his friend out of trouble, without considering the consequences of his actions.
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John looks at his watch with frustration. It was getting close to noon and he had yet another date. A recently separated teacher whom he had been connecting with through texts for over a week.

He tried so hard to keep Sherlock in the dark but of course, Sherlock found out and Sherlock had something to say about it. The man's comments about how he was clearly being cat-fished. That she probably didn't look like the photos. And honestly, John didn't care. Lots of people used old out of date photos. Even his photos were a little dated admittedly.

"Look, Sherlock. Please" John finally let's out. "Just let me have this"

"I'm telling you, that photo she texted you is a fake"

"I don't care. I'm an adult. If she is not the woman she claims to be, I will deal with it then and there in the moment!" John yells with exasperation. "Just stay out!"

Sherlock sets down his tea cup, picking up the news paper which rested on the table beside him. He rolls his eyes as he flicks it open to the first page.

"Fine." Sherlock says like a stubborn child from behind the paper. "But don't come crying to me when she turns out to be a serial killer or some hideous beast"

John rolls his eyes as he turns to the door. 'Its just a lunch date" he replies as he passes through the door, slamming it behind him. "Seriously, does he not think I can take care of myself?"

_________________________

John was the first to arrive at the little cafe. He looks to his watch as a server places a glass of water on the table for him.

"Thank you" he says quietly as he picks up the glass with his other hand and takes a nervous sip. He swallows the water, inspecting the glass as he realizes it tasted a little off. As he sets the glass down, he shrugs it off, believing it was probably just his nerves.

His table was outside, just on the patio beside the street. John figuring it would be easiest for his date to find him, rather than go inside and look around awkwardly. Then again, John finds himself looking through the cafe window, distracting himself as he watches some of the people inside.

A couple sit at a table in the far corner, enjoying a couple sandwiches, while a student is at a bench with his laptop open and a large coffee beside him. He watches as a barista finishes making some drinks, delivering them to other tables. John eyes scanning each and every individual within the cafe before realizing he was actually trying to spot Sherlock in the crowd, convinced the man would ignore his request and follow him on this date.

As he continues to glance around, his eyes start to feel heavy. He begins feeling light headed as his vision starts to become blurry and unfocused.

"Watson? Dr.John Watson?" A fake sounding, high-pitched feminine voice exclaims from behind. "It's so nice to finally meet you in person! Though I must say, you look nothing like your picture!!!"

John jumps from the sudden voice behind, turning around. His eyes wide with horror as he realizes how right Sherlock was. The woman whom he had been texting this past week not a woman at all. Despite his blurred vision, John was easily able to make out the man standing on the other side of the table. Jim Moriarty.

Jim gives a flirtatious smile and wave as he sees the shock on John's face. The man just soaking in how easy it was to fool John into such an obvious trap.

John forces himself to his feet, which suddenly collapse beneath him. He lands back in his seat, resting his arms on the table as he struggles to keep awake. Of course this had to be the date he told Sherlock to back off.

"You don't look well" Jim suddenly says as he reaches for the glass of water. "Have some water" he playfully teases as he holds the glass in front of John.

John's upper body suddenly caves. His head and arms landing roughly on the table as he finally submits to the drug he had unknowingly ingested takes over, rendering him unconscious.

Chapter Text

"Wakey-wakey Johnny-boy" Jim exclaims loudly as he raises his hand in the air, swiftly bringing it down and slapping John across the face.

John's head snapped to the side. His cheek stinging fiercely as the pale skin quickly changed red. He lets out a hissed breath as he snaps his head back to look at Jim. Angered, he goes to move but predictably he goes nowhere.

"What the he-"

Looking down at his body, John quickly notes he was bound to a chair that had been bolted to the ground. And as if the ropes that were tied tightly around his torso, holding his hands behind his back was not enough, three little familiar red dots appear right on cue, dancing across his chest.

Taking in a breath, John reassess the situation and calms himself. He remembered back to the restaurant. Blacking out. And now, waking up to his best friends mortal enemy. Worst of all, when this was over, John knows Sherlock will gloat about how right he was about this date. John at this point was more concerned about how Sherlock was probably never going to let this down.

"Damnit.." John mutters with frustration.

"Language Johnny-boy..." Jim says, quickly cutting off John. The man slowly circling around his captive, like a shark ready to strike.

"To what do I owe the pleasure..." John calmly chokes out, knowing already this was not about him, but Sherlock.

Jim stops on John's left, leaning an arm on the man. He leans his head against John's as he pulls his phone out from his pocket with his free hand. He turns on the camera, switching into selfie mode.

"Just wanting to hang out with Sherlock's favorite pet" he exclaims cheerfully as he holds the phone out, getting his face even closer to John with a big cheesy smile on his face.

John winces as he pulls his head away, or at least as much as he could.

"Now now...big smile for Sebby!" Jim say in a playful voice as one of the red dots on John's chest travels up to his forehead. John's lips start to curl up into a forced smile, which could not hide the fear in his eyes.

Jim suddenly snaps the photo, capturing his sadistic joyful grin, while John's eyes pled for help. Jim let's go of John, stepping away with a small dance in his steps as he looks at the photo.

"BEAUTIFUL!" He exclaims as he turns the phone towards John, showing off the selfie they had just taken. "I mean, you look like a deer caught in the headlights but me? I bet Shirley is going to be so jealous seeing me playing with his little pet!"

John looks at the photo as calmly as possible as it was shoved in his face. The only good from this was that Sherlock will understand the urgency and come to the rescue.

"I'm sure he will" John replies flatly, knowing that until Sherlock came, he would have to just be compliant and stay on Jim's good side.

Jim pulls the phone away and begins typing. After a few seconds he turns the phone back to John. Showing him the screen which was filled with texts between him and Sherlock from the past, with the new text at the bottom with the attached selfie:

"Found your pet, is there a reward for his return?"
--JM

"And now we wait for the reply!"

Chapter Text

John lay in the middle of the cement floor. His hands bound behind his back, secured tightly with rope as Sebastian Moran kicks him in the gut.

John let's out a pained gasp of air as he curls his body, trying to soften the blow from his assailant.

Jim holds his phone out. The device recording every moment of John's beating. "Come on Sherlock" he hisses loudly while John screams out in pain. "I thought you cared about Johnny-boy!"

Moran reaches down, grabbing John by the hair as he rips him off the floor. He forces the tired and beaten man to his feet, holding him tightly as Jim moves on for a close-up with the phone.

Johns breathing his heavy. His right eye back and swollen shut with a nice sized gash above his brow. His face covered in sweat, dirt and bloody as he tries to look away from the camera.

--------------------

Hours go by and there is still nothing from Sherlock. John had been dumped in to small white padded room, atop a bed. He was alone but grateful to be given a break from the beating Jim had Sebastian carry out from his frustrations.

"How long has it been...?" John wondered as he lay there, staring up at the ceiling. The man knowing this would be his best chance of escape, had he not been in so much pain.

With no other choice, John closes his eyes and drifts off, hoping that when he awakens, this nightmare would be over.

----------------

"ANSWER YOUR DAMN PHONE" Jim yells with anger into his phone as it had just finished asking for him to leave a voice message.

John was bound, his hands above his head as he dangled a few inches off the ground. His toes just barely able to reach the floor below. His head hung low as he breaths slow, shallow breaths.

"Why won't he answer his phone?"

Beside John was Sebastian, who sat comfortably in a chair with a knife in hand. The man having just finished beating the shit out of John Watson and now waiting for his new orders on what to do. The man clearly waiting for an order to use his knife and gut John like a pig.

"I thought you were special to Sherly" Jim let's out as he approaches John, punching him in the stomach as though he were taking out his anger into a punching bag.

John gasps for air as the force from the punch forces John's body to swing. His wrists chafing from the rope that he had been hanging from for nearly two hours.

'His precious little pet.." Jim motions to punch John again it stops himself. Instead, he reaches up, taking a hold of John's chin and forcing the man's head up to look at him as he squeezes his cheeks between his fingers.

"Why. Isn't. He. Here!"

Johns eyes start to water as he's forced to look at Jim. He wish he knew. It wasn't like Sherlock to not show up. The only thoughts being that maybe he himself was in an accident and was unable to make it. Though the idea that maybe he didn't care was sneaking it's way into his mind.

----------------------

John stares down at the tray of food that had been brought in his own little prison. Nothing special. Just an egg sandwich, some fruit and a bottle of water.

The first day he was offered food and water, John was stubborn. Refused to eat, not just because of distrust, but from protest. But after four days, John was starting to doubt Sherlock was actually going to come for him.

His best friend.

It wasn't even a secret as to where he was being kept. John had seen the texts. Heard the voice messages. The emails. He even sent one of his snipers leave a note at 221b. At least that was the order John remembered hearing before he was being dragged back to this room.

Jim Moriarty wasn't even being cryptic anymore. Sherlock had an address. And even if he wasn't coming. Sherlock would at least send the police in to save him? Maybe Mycroft or Greg?

Right?

Starved, John finally caves in and eats the food given to him. The man deducing that had Jim Moriarty wanted him dead, it wouldn't be through a poison sandwich.

---------------------------

Jim sits in a large leather chair in his own little office. On his desk, several monitors. One of which was showing surveillance footage of John. He watches John pick away at his food.

He grins widely as he can see John's spirit slowly dying away.

Chapter Text

Sherlock sits in front of his laptop, playing the surveillance footage from the cafe over and over. He visibly sees John sit down at the table on the patio. The man completely alone, then suddenly, the footage cuts and the table is completely empty with a woman approaching with an ice coffee in her hand as she takes a seat and opens a book.

The footage clearly having been tampered with.

He rewinds the footage for the hundredth time. Watching the woman walk backwards off screen and John reappearing in his seat.

He lets out a tired sigh as he replays the video over and over. The man completely exhausted as he hadn't slept in two weeks. And if it wasn't for the lovely Mes.Hudson, he probably wouldn't have had anything to eat or drink either.

With his eyes locked on the screen, he reaches for the cup of tea Mrs.Hudson had left him and takes a sip. The man not caring that it was cold by this point.

Pausing the video on John, Sherlock leans back in his chair. The man overwhelmed with guilt for not following John, despite the fact he knew something seemed off. He plays the video again, this time pausing on the woman as he analyses everything on the frame.

A young caucasian brunette. White take shirt, blue skinny jeans and black heels. The book in her hand, Shakespeare's Macbeth. Interesting but not really out of the ordinary.

He sets the cup back down as he stands himself up. He lets out a frustrated yell as he picks up the cushion from his seat, throwing it across the room with anger. Angry that he was not only struggling to solve this case, but also at the fact that had he just ignored his best friend, none of this would be happening.

"This has to be Moriarty" Sherlock mutters to himself as he begins to pace back and forth across the room. "But if it is, why hasn't he left me anything? Moriarty is all about theatrics! He would have had John Watson dangling from the side of a building or tied to a bridge with explosives....think Sherlock! Think!"

A sudden knock at his front door stops Sherlock on his steps. Without any thought he sprints thought the door and down the stairs. He throws open the door, his eyes meeting with his brother and Greg.

"What do you have for me?!" Sherlock demands with some sort of hope that the police or someone had found something.

Greg frowns as he shakes his head. As much as he wanted to give some sort of good news, Scotland Yard had not found any leads as to who had taken John or why.

"Sherlock...' Mycroft starts saying softly, knowing this was going to be one of the hardest things he would ever say. "Most disappearance cases that go beyond a few days don't usually have positive outcomes...."

Greg steps forward, taking over the conversation "It's been a little over two weeks and we want to find Dr.Watson-"

"Then find him!" Sherlock snaps at Greg.

"Sherlock!" Mycroft snaps.

"Scotland Yard has been looking. Endlessly. You were with us at the cafe. We questioned everyone we possibly could...we don't know who has taken Dr.Watson or if he was taken against his wall at all! Maybe John Watson did this himself and doesn't want to be found...." Greg let's out a sigh as he places a hand on Sherlock's shoulder as the next words to come out of mouth were difficult to say and he already had an idea of how Sherlock was going to respond. "I'm sorry but there isn't much else we can do"

Sherlock takes a hold of Greg's wrist. He grips it tightly before removing his hand from his shoulder. He lets go before stepping back into his flat.

The suggestion of John faking his own kidnapping almost insulting to Sherlock.

"You're going to abandon John Watson? After everything he's done?! All the murders he's helped solve? The people he's saved? You're just going to leave him? Fine." Sherlock slams the door behind him. The rage inside building as he storms back up the stairs.

He didn't need their help. He was the world's greatest detective. He would solve this and he would bring back John Watson.

Alive.

Chapter Text

The young woman sits at the cafe table. Her large iced coffee sitting on the table beside her as she sits frozen staring at her book.

Sherlock rubs his eyes as he stares at the image. There was no way this was a coincidence. There had to be a reason the video cut to her.

"Mr. Holmes...." Mrs. Hudson gently knocks on her tenants door, entering with a plate in her hand. On it, some cheese and crackers. She approaches with a look of concern on her hand as she sets the small plate on the table next to Sherlock's computer. "I'm worried..." She says softly.

Sherlock's hand instinctively reaches for a piece of the cheese as he stares at the Image. His eyes focused, scanning each and every inch of the scene.

"I am too Mrs.Hudson, that is why I will get this case solved" Sherlock replies, his voice trailing.

"I mean about you" she replies. While she was worried sick about Dr.Watson, she was just as worried as the man before her. He wasn't eating. Sleeping. She had essentially become more than his landlady. The woman had taken it upon herself to take care of Sherlock during John's absence.

Sherlocks eyes lock on the woman. He studies her features. The way she sits. Her hair. Everything.

Mrs.Hudson let's out a small sigh as she realizes Sherlock wasn't going to listen. The man was stubborn after all. Her concerned gaze drifting from Sherlock to the screen. She tilts her head a little as she too stares.

"Isn't that the young woman Dr.Watson was supposed to meet?" She suddenly questions. Mrs.Hudson thinking back to how excited John was when he matched with this woman. He went on for days about how nervous he was about making a good impression. How he came to her for advice as to what he should do. While Sherlock criticized her image, going on about how it was too good to be true, Mrs. Hudson was there to help him have the best date possible.

Sherlock's eyes widen as he realizes that it was her. He had been so sleep deprived and frantic since John's disappearance that he barely remembered what the woman in John's phone looked like. But the moment she mentioned it, he could see the image so clearly. The Young brunette teacher that was too good to be true. Sherlock jumps up from his seat as he had finally found his lead.

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Sherlock returns to the cafe. He throws open the door into the cafe, pushing his way past the people inside.

"Tall bla-"

Sherlock shoves himself between the counter and an old man who was in the middle of making his order. He holds up the photo he had printed from the computer, shoving it into the baristas face.

"Who is this woman?" He demands firmly.

"Wait your turn!" The old mad exclaims with annoyance as he shoves himself in front of Sherlock.

Sherlock scowls at the old man, shoving him back out for the way. "Your subpar beverage can wait, my friend can not" he says in a threatening voice.

Before the man could even respond, Sherlock turns back to the barista.

The young woman behind the counter looks to Sherlock with an exhausted sigh. Since John's disappearance, Sherlock had visited the cafe numerous times. Both with and without the police. She, among all her other coworkers had been questioned and it was tiresome. The ones on shift that day two weeks ago, recognizing John but not noticing him leave as he was outside at the patio, making it easy for him to slip away unnoticed.

"She is one of our regulars" the barista says as she steps to the coffee machine to make the older mans coffee.

Sherlock couldn't help but grin as he hears this. Now he was getting somewhere and hopefully, this would lead him to Dr.John Watson.

Chapter Text

The young brunette approaches the cafe counter. The woman not even needing to speak a word as the barista had already prepared her usual iced coffee. With a warm smile, she places a ten dollar bill on the counter before taking the drink and exiting the cafe to sit at her usual patio side table.

She sets to her drink on the table before reaching into her bag to retrieve the book she had brought with her today.

"Fan of Shakespeare?"

The young woman jumps in her seat as Sherlock sits in the chair across from her. She sits the book down, folding her hands together on top as she looks at the man before her. Her assumption being that the man across from her was probably after her number.

"I'm flattered but I'm not interested in dating" she replies as calmly and politely as possible.

Sherlock sits there staring at her with a neutral expression as he begins reading the woman before him.

"Actually, it seems more like you're desperate"

The womans soft face twitches into slight anger and annoyance as Sherlock claims she was actually "desperate"

"Excuse me?"

"For someone who is looking to be left alone, you put way too much care into your appearance today. The makeup, especially the red lipstick, tells me you want people to look at you. Not to mention the tight dress you're wearing, highlighting your curves isn't exactly subtle."

The woman stares at Sherlock, her eye twitching as he continues to talk.

"Not to mention when you order your drink you're given options. The option to stay or go. You choose to stay but consume your beverage on the patio, open for the world to see you, rather than inside and hiding like a normal person. And the cherry on top, the book. While a face buried in a phone would tell people to leave you alone, the book is an open invite for strangers to start a conversation "

The woman continues to stare at Sherlock. The anger now being mixed with confusion. She couldn't tell if he was trying to flirt or just insult her for coming off as desperate to meet a man.

"But I'm not here because of that. I want Moriarty"

The woman blinks at Sherlocks as he continues. Now she was just confused.

"Who?"

"Moriarty.!"

"I don't know any Moriarty..."

"Don't lie! You were supposed to meet a Dr.John Watson a few weeks ago for a date!" Sherlock exclaims, holding out his phone to show her a photo of John.

The woman looks at the photo and then back to Sherlock with even more confusion. She had never seen the man before, nor had she had any dates. Not that she was aware of.

"I'm sorry but, I have never seen that man before in my life"

Sherlock looks at the woman with intensity. His eyes watching for any twitches in her face. Anything to indicate she was lying. Unfortunately, she really had no idea what Sherlock was talking about. Her photo really was stolen and used for a fake dating profile.

Sherlock sits his phone down, running his hands through his hair as the realization hits him: She was chosen by Moriarty, without her knowledge, to throw Sherlock off. He chose her because she was a regular at this cafe. She had her usual drink her seat. So a date with John Watson at this location made sense. But in the end, this woman was just a red herring.

"Hey...are you-"

A loud bang echoes through the sky. The woman goes silent as her head sudden drops to the table. Sherlocks eyes widen with horror as he sees a puddle of blood forming beneath the womans head on the table.

Chapter Text

Today:

John sits with his hands bound in front of him. His hands sitting on a metal table as he rests his head in his arms. He was exhausted. Wanting to just go home and pretend none of this was happening.

Instead, he was sitting in a large room with barred windows and several equally spaced tables with benches on each side. The room obviously the common area within the hospital for inmates to mingle and have some social interactions.

In the corner beside the door, Sebastian, who has his eyes locked John. The man having been instructed to bring John here and standby.

John closes his eyes as he sits on the bench, just completely defeated. The man having had no contact with the outside world for three weeks now. That is aside from Jim Moriarty, Sebastian Moran and the three other red dots that were constantly poised on him every waking moment.

Suddenly, the door beside Sebastian opens and Jim Moriarty enters. In his hand a large bag of Chinese takeaway.

"so sorry I'm late" Jim exclaims in an exaggerated exhausted voice he approaches John. "You wouldn't believe how busy the restaurant was!"

Jim takes a seat beside John, sliding a hand into his back. His twists himself sideways into John getting uncomfortably close as he drops the bag of food on the table before John.

John lifts his head as he hears the bag of food drop in front of him. He stares ahead of it, noting that it was from the same Chinese place he and Sherlock often frequented. He takes in a deep breath, taking in the delicious aroma emanating from the bag before looking to Jim with a suspicious look in his eye.

Jim grins widely back at John as he gives in a pat on the back. "I had a craving and thought you might like some as well!" Jim exclaims as he stands up and walks to the other side of the table, sitting across from his captive.

John continues to watch him suspiciously, the man trying to understand what Jim Moriarty was up to. For three weeks, John had been living off of whatever cheap quick meals Jim felt like feeding him. Sandwiches. Soup. Oatmeal. Nothing too special, just enough to keep him alive, and now here he was with his favorite Chinese takeaway?

Jim unpacks the large bag, pulling out little boxes filled with fried rice, sweet n' sour pork, chicken balls and egg rolls. He sets the boxes down, sliding one to John.

"Here you go!" He says with a cheery voice as he holds out a pair of chopsticks.

John takes the chopsticks, staring at them as he fumbles to hold them. His bound hands making it a bit of an awkward challenge. His brows furrow as he looks across the table to Jim.

"Do you think you could..." His eyes look to his wrists before looking back to Jim, quietly begging for him to just untie him.

Jim had just taken a big mouthful of rice when John talks. His eyes go between John's wrists and his pleading face to be untied several times, as though contemplating what to do.

Jim reaches a hand over, placing it overtop John's hand as he looks him in the eyes. The doctor was hoping that Jim was going to undo the bounds and give him some form of freedom, but he was met with disappointment as the chopsticks were suddenly replaced with a fork.

"This will work better" Jim simply states as he pulls away, returning to his meal.

John let's out a defeated sigh as he awkwardly scoops up some rice into his fork and takes a bite. The food he usually loved further bringing him into a dark place as he thinks about being back at 221b with Sherlock. The late nights. The stacks of takeout containers piling up as neither one really felt like cooking. They ordered from this particular restaurant at least twice a week, give or take. He slowly swallows the rice as he glanced down at the table just completely worn.

"Why are you doing this?" John quietly asks, keeping his gaze low.

"I already told you, I had a craving" Jim repeats back, rolling his eyes as he munches down on an egg roll.

John let's out a sigh as he sets the fork down, look up at Jim. He already knew this had nothing to do with kindness. There were hundreds of restaurants in London, and he had to choose the one Sherlock and him always went to? There was no way this was a coincidence.

"It's been three weeks. Your plan, whatever it was, has failed. You have no need for me anymore. So why am I still alive?"

Jim's smile fades as he looks at John with a more serious look. He sets his chopsticks down, folding his hands together on the table in front.

"Because I feel bad for you" he replies in a flat tone. "Your partner abandoned you. Left you all alone. I really did have every intention to put you out of your misery but, I just can't get myself to do it"

The words coming from Jim's mouth stung. He felt bad for him? The Moriarty John knew didn't care about people's lives. He used them and then discarded them when finished with them.

"Then why can't you just let me go?"

Jim stands up from his seat with a frown on his face as he looks down at John. His eyes looking more sympathetic than angered or annoyed, as though he really did feel bad for John.

Chapter Text

"I really didn't want you to show you this" Jim says as he leads John into his little office.

John immediately noting the monitor that was watching his room. The man not the least but surprised by the fact that he was being watched in his sleep. Even though he was his prisoner, it didn't make the fact any less creepy.

His eyes then scan the rest of the room. There was three more monitors. Two which had their screens off, but clearly on, and another which was opened with an email inbox on the screen. The inbox filled with old emails but nothing newer than a few months.

Jim approaches the computer, taking a hold of the mouse and moving it over to the 'sent' folder. He clicks it, bringing up all the sent emails to Sherlock.

Quickly glancing at the emails on the screen, John estimated there was at least thirty emails that had been sent.

"Text messages. Phone calls. Emails" Jim says calmly with a hint of annoyance. "And not a single response"

John swallows nervously as he eyes the screen. He already knew about the emails and texts that has been ignored. The one time he questioned that maybe Jim had the wrong contact information, he was met with a swift beating from Sebastian. John realising he should have known better than to question Jim Moriarty because of course he has the right information....Jim Moriarty wasn't an idiot.

"Perhaps..." John swallows nervously as he speaks. "Something has happened to Sherlock. He lost his phone...or the power has been cut at the flat...or he could be incapacitated..."

Jim rolls his eyes as he goes to one of the monitors, reaching his hand behind and turning it on.

The screen suddenly turns on, showing the interior of 221b. It's living room to be specific, the cameras view coming from the kitchen door, angled to show the space that Sherlock and John did most their work.

"How did you....?" John questions with confusion, wondering how the man got a camera in the apartment. More specifically without Sherlock noticing.

John watches as the Sherlock enters into the currently empty room with a cup of tea in hand. He takes a seat in his large comfy chair, sinking into it as he takes a small sip from his drink. He sets the tea down on the table beside as he picks up his laptop, opening it and resting it on his lap as he begins typing away, though because of the angle, John had no clue what he looking at on the laptop.

"Doesn't look incapacitated to me" Jim hums as he slides an arm across John's shoulders. "And the letter I had my friend deliver the other day with our beautiful selfie? He tore it up" Jim adds on casually. "Said something like how you're a grown man and could take care of yourself."

John closes his eyes as he starts believing this was all his fault. He told Sherlock to stay away and the man was obviously taking it to seriously. He opens his eyes again, looking to the screen and noting how casual Sherlock's looked. He wasn't even trying.

"And if you think Scotland Yard is coming for you, well...." As he speaks, the sound system in the room goes off, perfectly cued by one of the snipers listening in.

"Maybe John Watson did this himself"

The voice clearly that of Greg Lestrade.

"Maybe John Watson did this himself"

"Guess when you play the damsel in distress too often, people start believing it's all for attention. Little Johnny-boy wasn't getting the attention he wanted from his master, so he threw himself into his enemies hands, just so he could be rescued. No one is coming for you..." Jim hums as he circles around John with slow intimidating steps. The man soaking in every second of this.

John's neutral face begins to fade as complete and total heartbreak takes over. Sherlock really did just decide to leave him in the hands of his enemy. Not just that but Scotland Yard had deducted that he had done this himself? His eyes gloss over he tries so hard to hold back the tears inside.

Noticing John's change in expression, Jim grins with glee. Everything so far was going to plan. He could see the feeling of betrayal consuming John. Right now he was in the stages of pain and hurt, all that he needed to do now was channel the anger and rage. It was a slower burn than he was used to, but Jim was enjoying every second.

"Even if I did release you, where would you go?" Jim questions. "How could you go back out there, knowing those people left you?"

John couldn't keep the tears back anymore as his hands ball into fists. There was no way any of this was true but, the evidence before him spoke othery. He really was alone.

"Please. Just end this...." John says, unable to take anymore of this mental torture. "Please"

Jim moves himself infront of John, placing his hands on his shoulders. "What fun would that be?" He asks as he grins down at John.

Chapter Text

John didn't know how much of this he could take. It was easing into a month since he was taken and he had never felt so isolated and alone in his life. He already knew that Sherlock wasn't coming for him and the fact that Jim Moriarty refused to let him go was driving him mad.

He sits up in his bed, feet hanging over the side as he stares blankly at the door ahead. His face expressionless as he just keeps his gaze ahead, waiting for the door to open. And just like he wished, it does.

Jim enters, approaching John with a bright smile on his face. The man extending his arms out as he stands before John and pulls him into a tight embrace. The man holding John tightly as John rests his head on Jim's chest, just accepting the touch from his best friends enemy.

Jim tightens his hold, placing a hand on John's head as he comforts his prisoner.

"You might think you're all alone in the world. Cast aside like a lame puppy, but you're not" Jim coos softly as he continues to hold John close, gently running his hands through John's hair. "You have me and I would never abandon my pets"

The words passed through John's ears but he didn't have the energy in him to react. By this point, everything just felt numb. His entire world inside slowly breaking apart.

Jim pulls away ever so slightly as he places his hands on John's shoulders. He looks at the obviously broken man in the eyes, with a wide devilish grin on his face. Everything was exactly as planned. He had Doctor John Watson precisely where he wanted and now it was time to let the real fun begin.

"You deserve so much better than Sherlock Holmes" he says with a bitterness in his tone. "In fact, I think we show Sherlock that you don't need him because you, doctor John Watson, never needed Sherlock Holmes!"

John stares back at Jim with empty eyes as he takes in ever word. He forces a faint smile as he nods slowly in agreement.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up"

-------------------------------

John stands beneath a hot stream of water as he was granted the luxury of a proper shower, something he had been denied for the past little while. He stands beneath the shower head, scrubbing his face with the body wash he had been given by Jim Moriarty. Surprisingly, the brand being the one he usually purchase and not some cheap one from a dollar store.

He lets out a faint smile as he soaks in every second. Didn't matter that he was still in the abandoned hospital. Didn't matter that Jim, Sebastian and the snipers were all on standby outside in case he got any crazy ideas. All that mattered was that in this moment, John was able to feel somewhat normal.

Once finished, John steps out of the shower. He takes the towel that Jim had left for him by the sink, dries himself off. He then looks around the small washroom, noticing his clothes we not where he left them. His brows furrow as he realizes that at this moment, all he had was the towel.

Wrapping the towel around his waist, John approaches the washroom door and slowly opens it. He sheepishly peers out the slightly open door, his eyes catching Sebastian on the other side.

"I'd like my clothes please..." he says nervously.

"You don't want those old things!" Jim exclaims as he takes a hold of the door, pulling it open all the way.

John nearly falls as the door is thrown open. He steps forward, catching himself and taking a hold of his towel to keep it on.

"I-I'd very much like my clothes back..." John replies, keeping his gaze to the floor.

"No you don't!" Jim repeats, stepping close to John, holding out a brand new expensive looking suit. "I got you something better"

John looks up, his lips slightly parting in shock as he has no idea how to respond. He swallows a little nervously as he eyes the suit and Jim Moriarty.

------------------

John stands in front of the mirror as he adjusts the button on his sleeves. He stares blankly at the man on the other side, the man feeling broken and lost. The doctor barely able to recognize the person in the reflection staring back at him.

The suit was a perfect fit, as Jim had gotten it perfectly fitted for him. How Jim got John's measurements though, John rather not know. It was black, slim fit and a very similar style to Jim's. I'm fact, he was certain it was probably the same make and style. He lets out a small sigh as he hears footsteps easing in close to him.

"Are you ready to hit the town?!" Jim Moriarty questions with joy as he steps in nice and close to John, wrapping an arm across his shoulders.

"Y-yeah..." John replies, as he continues to stare ahead, his stomach twisting nervously as Jim's image reflected in the mirror beside him. His captor grinning ear to ear as though he were about to head out partying with his best mate, while John just stared emotionless and broken.

Chapter Text

"I'm tired of watching your pet, you can come pick him up tonight at the address below

~~~JM xxoo "

Sherlock wasted no time fleeing his flat when the text was recieved. It had been the longest month of his life. The man not knowing what had become of his best friend. The man doubting he would ever see Doctor John Watson again until the his phone had alerted him.

It was a little past nine when Sherlock had pulled into the given address. He was confused as he stood on the streets staring at the bright and busy night club. He had assumed Jim Moriarty would meet somewhere more private but alas, it didn't matter.

-----------------------

The music inside was loud and people were drinking, dancing and over all having a good time. Sherlock pushes himself through the crowd, his eyes locking on a man at the bar with his back to him. The expensive suit really not doing a good job blending in with the crowd. His eyes narrow into a glare as the man takes a sip of a vodka soda.

With long strides, Sherlock approaches the man at the bar. He places a hand on his shoulder and pulls him away, spinning him around. His jaw dropped, eyes widen as Sherlock quickly sees the man he had assumed was Jim was actually John.

"John?!"

John's eyes widen for a slip second with surprise before his body tenses.

"What are you doing here?" John questions in a bitter tone, squeezing the drink in his hand.

"I-..." Sherlock's mouth goes dry as he stumbles with his words. He had assumed Jim was the one he would meet. That the man had John locked away somewhere and was going to play a game with him. "John!" Sherlocks serious look fades into one of overwhelmed joy as he pulls John into a tight embrace.

But while Sherlock wraps his arms tightly around John, John's arms remain at the side as he does not return the embrace. Instead, his body tenses even more as he looks away, as though it were a stranger hugging him and he was looking for someone to help get him off.

"Excuse me!" A voice suddenly exclaims from behind. Jim places a hand on Sherlock's shoulder, prying the man off of John. "I'd appreciate it if you did not touch my friend, you're making him very uncomfortable!"

As he does this, Sherlock let's go of John and spins around, recognizing the Irish voice behind him and without hesitation, he balla his hand into a fist and takes a swing at Jim. He lands the punch and Jim stumbles back a few steps as his head snaps to the side. He places a hand on his lip, feeling the warmth of blood that was forming through the new split in his lip.

Some witnesses on the crowd gasp as the bartender waves the bouncer over. He points to Sherlock, gesturing for him to be removed.

Sherlock then pounces on top of Jim, tackling Jim down to the found like a wild animal. He pins the man to the floor, holding onto his jackets collar as he glares down at the grinning man.

"I'm going to end you" Sherlock threatens through his teeth.

"No you're not"

"Sherlock, get off of him" John finds himself yelling as he instinctively takes a hold of Sherlock. He tightens his grip on Sherlock's shoulders as he yanks him off with the help of the bouncer who had sprung onto the scene in no time.

"John what are you doing?!" Sherlock exclaims as his friend begins pulling him away from Jim Moriarty. "Get off me! Let me at him!"

Jim continues to give a cocky smile back to Sherlock as he's ripped off. While the bouncer restrains Sherlock, John circles around and past Sherlock, completely ignoring his supposed best friend. He instead, offers a hand to Jim, helping him off the floor. The sight causing Sherlock to act out even more on anger.

"John! What are you doing?!" He yells with frustration as he's out strengthed and pulled backwards.

Sherlock pulls against the bouncer as he watches his best friend helping his enemy. This was wrong. This was not John. He has no idea how Jim was doing it. Was it another bomb? Blackmail? He hadn't figured out what was happening but he knew one thing was certain, this was not Doctor John Watson and there was no way he would sit back and Jim Moriarty get away with this.

Unfortunately, a few people from the dance floor jump in, helping the bouncer pull Sherlock further from Jim. His eyes poised across at the scene unfolding ahead. John patting Jim on the back. John gently leading Jim back to the bar and waving the bartender over to get a couple drinks. The last thing Sherlock seeing before being completely tossed out, was a small glance from John. Just a fraction of a second, but it was enough for Sherlock to know that he wasn't completely lost. Whatever Jim was doing to control John, he was still in there.

-------------------

Sherlock lands outside the club with a thud. He closes his eyes tightly as he takes in a deep breath. "What did he do to you?" He mutters as he stands himself back up, looking to the club from the outside.

He thinks back to the scene. John didn't look the least but amused to see Sherlock. Nor did he return the show of affection. They had a moment alone and he could have used that moment to whisper some sort of message or warning but there wasn't even that. Not even an attempt.

The most plausible scenario was that Jim Moriarty was holding some sort of leverage over John's head as a means to control him. But they were in a busy populated building and as far as Sherlock could tell, no snipers had guns aimed at him or John. He also didn't feel anything bulky that could be perceived as an explosive device when he embraced his friend, meaning John could have run away at any point, but instead, he chose to stay. And not only that, he stayed with Jim. Willingly.

Sherlock begins to walk around the building. His next thought being that perhaps the building had been rigged with explosives. He begins inspecting the building, slowly making his way around towards the back.

A mistake unfortunately as the moment he rounds the corner to the back, he is met with the barrel of a hand gun held by Jim's personal pet, Sebastian Moran and a couple bonus red dots for good measure.

Chapter Text

Sherlock had been sitting, tied to a chair with a bag over his head for nearly two hours. He sits there taking in slow breaths though his nose as he listens to the sounds around him. The noises telling him he was in some sort of surveillance room as he could hear the light hums of electronics. He could feel the warmth from the computers towers. He also knew he was not alone because of the quiet breath standing a few feet away.

"How much longer you going going to make me wait?' Sherlock finally asks, breaking the silence with an exasperated breath.

No response.

"I know you're in the room with me" he adds on. "You're breathing so loudly from your mouth"

Still nothing.

Sherlock shifts in his seat ever so slightly, twisting his wrists from behind his back as he tries to subtlety slip free, but the feel of a gun pressed against his head on the other side of the bag forces him to stop.

"So that's how I get a response..." Sherlock mutters with a smirk beneath the mask. "Sadly you're not allowed to shoot me, are you. No. Moriarty would be most upset if you took away a kill he feels is his, right?"

Sherlock's tone had a bit of smugness in it as he spoke. His words true. Neither Sebastian or the others were to kill Sherlock. Not while Jim Moriarty had other plans for him.

The gun click echoes through the room as the safety is removed.

"That is enough, Sebby" Jim coos as he throws open the door and enters into his office. "Why don't you go get yourself a snack or something"

As Jim approaches, Sebastian removes the gun from Sherlock's head. He steps back as Jim grips the bag tightly and removes into reveal an unamused looking Sherlock staring back at him.

"Where is Watson?" Sherlock asks, getting straight to the point, glaring up at Jim.

Jim smiles widely as Sherlock speaks. He lets out a little chuckle as he turns to the first of the three computer monitors in the room. The screen currently on John's given room, only it was empty.

"I don't know, let's see if we can find him?"

Using the mouse, he begins flipping though the many cameras within the abandoned hospital. Corridors. Common areas. Main entrance. Until he stops at the kitchen where John was seen just boiling some water and preparing himself a cup of tea.

"Looks like Johnny boy is up getting himself a midnight snack!"

Sherlocks eyes watch the scene. Aside from it being a hospital kitchen, everything looked normal. John was walking around with free will. There was no escort. No gunman in sight.

"It took a while to get him to this point. You know how it is with new pets in unfamiliar settings. Always trying to run. Scared of everything around them. Getting into trouble and needing constant supervision. But look at him now? Bit of training and it's like he's finally part of the family"

"Stockholm syndrome...." Sherlock says under his breath. The man realising that John had been left alone with Moriarty for so long that the man had easily found his way into mind.

"Maybe if you didn't abandon him, he wouldn't have chosen me!" Jim replies as he turns from the computer, to Sherlock.

"I did not abandon John Watson" Sherlock scowls back. There wasn't a day these past weeks where he wasn't looking. Even though Scotland Yard gave up, Sherlock refused.

"True. But Johnny-boy doesn't know that..."

"I'm sure John knows better than to believe you"

Sherlock's eyes drift to the computer monitor beside, which was still open to all the sent emails. Each one supposedly addressed to him. Not a single one familiar as he had never recieved any emails. His look intensifies as he tries to figure this out as Jim Moriarty knew his email, and according to this, they had been sent to the right email address. So, why hasn't Sherlock seen them before?

Jim pulls out his phone, scrolling through the texts that had been sent to Sherlock. He begins dramatically reading them out loud.

"Found your pet, having a great time with him!" --JM

"I can see why you keep John Watson around. So fiesty " - JM

He goes on as he paces around Sherlock, dramatically reading text after text.

"Here's the lovely selfie we took together!" Jim hums playfully as he holds the phone up to Sherlock, showing off the photo of him next to John.

"I recieved no text messages from you!" Sherlock exclaims firmly as he watches Jim.

Jim pulls his phone away and frowns a moment as he stares down at Sherlock.

"Oh? You didn't?"

Jim pauses in his step, dramatically placing a hand on his head as he gives a single laugh. "Oh, silly me" he exclaims as he approaches the third computer, turning it on. The screen loads, showing a black screen with red code written across it.

The computer currently rerouting all texts and emails sent to Sherlock's number and email from Jim's device, to a dummy phone and email account.

Jim approaches the computer and begins typing away. In just a few seconds the red code turns green.

"There we go...now...if I send..." Jim returns to his phone, sending the selfie of him and John again, this time, causing Sherlock's phone to vibrate in his pocket. Hearing it, Jim reaches a hand into Sherlock's pant pocket and removes the phone, showing him the photo once more.

"Now you've got it!!"

"I see now, you tricked John into think I was ignoring your little game. Spiraling John Watson into a form of depression where you pried your way further into his mind, toying with his fears and insecurities"

Jim smirks at how Sherlock words his whole plan.

"It wasn't hard"

"And it won't be hard undoing the damage you've done. As soon as he finds out, it's over!"

"Ah yes, the downside of giving away my master plan to the great and oh so smart Sherlock Holmes...." Jim pauses, his face not the least but phased by Sherlock's threat. "We're going to put John Watson to the test, see where his loyalty stands."

Sherlock smirks confidently at that statement. John Watson was his best friend, this would be easy. All he had to do was explain how Jim manipulate him and it was over, right?

Chapter Text

John had been sipping on the tea he had made himself, all alone in the cafeteria. While the thoughts of just running away crossed his mind, he chose not to. His mind so conflicted as to what was happening. He still didn't quite understand why he chose to stay with Jim Moriarty, rather than run away with Sherlock when he had the chance. Was it fear of the powerful Jim Moriarty? Or perhaps he really had just lost all respect for Sherlock. Believed the only friend he had in the world that he could trust was this criminal mastermind.

"Jim Moriarty requests your presence" Sebastian says as he opens up the door to the cafeteria. "Says he's got a treat for you"

John's ears perked up when the word 'treat' was used. He really was like a dog at this point. With a small sigh, he finishes off his cup of tea before setting down the mug and standing himself up.

------------------------------

John was led to the parking bay where usually there would be ambulances, but it was completely empty, minus a few chairs, boxes and crates. This area of the hospital being the one he remembered most when Jim was having the shit beaten out of him. The place he tried to contact Sherlock on countless occasions, only to be ignored. It was the most spacious and least recognisable as it resembled any other shipping dock at any warehouse.

Jim waited by the doors, arms open wide as he greets Sebastian and John. He notices John himself looking a little nervous, so he decides to pull John into a tight embrace. He grins widely as he pulls back and places his hands on John's shoulders, looking him in the eyes as if trying to tell him that he was not going to be harmed.

"Come on, I got something special for you" Jim says as he slides a hand around John's shoulder, placing a hand on his back. He then pushes open the swinging door into the bay, leading John inside.

Two steps in and John stops dead in his tracks. His eyes widen as he feels a lump forming in his throat.

In the centre of the room, Sherlock Holmes. The man sitting upright, his arms wrenched behind his back with ropes tied tightly around his wrists. His ankles bound to the legs of the chair, keeping him still. In his mouth, a ball of cloth which had been shoved in and tied firmly around his head. Despite his situation, Sherlock stares directly ahead of him with no sign of fear.

"W-what...what is this?" John Watson questions with a small stutter in his voice. His lips were going dry as he could feel his heart pounding against his chest. John Watson had hoped that the incident at the club would be it, but it was not.

"This is your special treat!" Jim announces joyfully as he takes a step forward, pulling John along with him as he keeps his hand placed on his back.

"No. no...no...why is he here?" John finds himself saying as he steps forward and closer to Sherlock with Jim beside him.

"Sebby found him lurking around outside. Turns out he decided to follow us back home like the jealous boyfriend he is" Jim replies as he lets go of John's back, taking closer steps to Sherlock. Jim steps directly beside Sherlock, crouching down to the man's level as he takes his chin in his hand. "Isn't that right?"

As Jim talks in a mocking voice, he forces Sherlock's head to nod in agreement.

John swallows nervously as he takes in a slow deep breath through his nose. His eyes locked onto Sherlock's eyes as his head is forced to move. The detective clearly not having any of it.

"And what would you like me to do?" John asks, scared he already knew the answer.

Jim frowns as he stands himself back up. He roughly lets go of Sherlock's chin, placing his hand on his head for support. Once fully standing, Jim roughly pushes Sherlock's head away from him.

"I thought maybe you'd like to tell Sherlock how he's made you feel these past few weeks" Jim hums as he approaches John, sliding a hand back across his back. "He is suppose to be your best friend. So let it out! Let him know how John Watson no longer needs Sherlock Holmes!"

John was silent at the response he was hearing. Chills were running down his spine as the words were spoken.

"Come on Johnny, you can do this..."

"He abandoned me...." John says in response as his eyes remain on Sherlock. Life starts to disappear as his gaze becomes more empty. The darkest part of his mind coming forward as he speaks "Weeks on end...He left me alone! They tortured me and you never came!"

John finds himself stepping closer to Sherlock. His voice more harsh as he balls his right hand into a fist, throwing a punch right into Sherlock's face. Sherlock's head snaps to the side. The man was more hurt by the thought that John had truly believed he had left him alone, than the stinging in his face. Sherlock quickly turns his head back to John Watson, mumbling, trying to get him to remove the gag so that he could explain his side of the story.

John could feel a rage building inside while tears were forming in his eyes.

"I want to know why you left me" He exclaims with hurt in his voice as he pulls the gag down from Sherlock's mouth. "Am I expendable? Are you tired of having to save John Watson?!"

"John, I never stopped looking!" Sherlock spits out as soon as the gag is removed. "I had no idea where you were. No leads. Nothing!"

John pauses a moment. He stares intensely at Sherlock, listening to him, but having a hard time believing him. John forces a laugh as he lets go of Sherlock.
"You expect me to believe that? You're Sherlock Holmes, even if Moriarty wasn't spoon feeding you the answers, you would have found way to solve them!"

"John! Moriarty didn't give me anything!"

"Stop lying to me!" John snaps back at Sherlock. The man was fully convinced that he was left alone. "I saw the texts. The emails. Listened to your damn voice message recording over and over! So why?"

"Listen to me. Moriarty is lying to you" Sherlock says as firmly as possible. "He did not reach out to me. I did not know who had taken you or where you had gone"

John lunges at Sherlock, knocking the chair back as he holds his hands around Sherlock's neck with anger inside. His face red and eyes completely overwhelmed with tears now.

Jim smirks as he watches the scene unfold before him. He knew it was a risk, putting the two of them in the same room together after so little time with John Watson, but he was confident in his work. The self doubt inside of John spilling out and blinding his ability to recognise the truth.

"John I swear to you..." Sherlock chokes out, trying to get through to his friend. "I would never leave you in the hands of Moriarty and I'm sorry it took me this long to find you"

"John!" Jim calls out, catching the attention of John. He approaches John, taking a light hold of his arm as he helps the man up and off of Sherlock. Sebastian comes from behind, picking up Sherlock and placing the chair back in the seated position.

"Let's just finish this..." Jim says suddenly as Sebastian holds out his gun to John.

John eyes the weapon being handed to him. His hand starting to shake as he knows exactly what they were asking of him.

"John, don't do this! Moriarty is manipulating you! It's what he does!" Sherlock exclaims, trying to talk some sense into his friend.

John swallows nervously as he takes a hold of the gun. He eyes it before holding it out and pointing it at Sherlock.