Sebastia grinned as she pulled the blindfold from John's eyes. "Hello, Johnny boy," she singsonged, running a finger down his nose with a sweet smile. John grimaced at her, wriggling against the restraints that held him to the wall.

"What do you want, Sebastia?"

She giggled and stroked his cheek, letting his light stubble glide under her fingertips. "Aww, don't be cross with me. I just had a tiny, teensy favor to ask of you." She pulled her phone from the back pocket of her tiny jean shorts, the kind she wore undercover or when she wanted to get something, and waved it under John's nose. "I need you to call your little detective for me."

John grimaced, annoyed and pained. "Sebastia, he's dead," John managed to croak out.

Sebestia clicked her tongue at him and slid her phone into his jeans pocket, pulling a knife out of her pocket. She flipped it open and delicately traced his jawline. "Now, now, don't be difficult, dear. I'm sure he's as dead as Moriaty."

John's eyes widened. "Moriaty's alive?"

Sebastia laughed, but a hint of doubt showed through in her eyes. "Of course he's alive. Somewhere. And he'll come back when he's good and ready. Until then I'm carrying on in his place. Now, call Sherlock for me?"

John closed his eyes and shook his head. He didn't want to look at her hopeful, believing face, it just hurt. She didn't know or didn't believe, one of the two. "I can't," he insisted, a bit roughly this time, "he's dead."

She rolled her eyes and bent down to pick an apple off the ground, setting in on his head with a little bat and booping his nose. "Don't move." She turned and sashayed away, hips swaying. As she whirled back around to face him she flung her knife. She didn't take a moment to aim or even come to a complete stop before she released. John tensed, but he never felt the impact. He heard a giggle as Sebastia flounced over and pulled the apple off his head, taking a bite. "Scared?"

He sighed, going a bit slack against his restraints. "So, how do I get out of here?" With Sebastia in this mood, she was playing with him. She'd done it before, a few times. Honestly, being put back in danger had helped him. She was a pain, but as far as he knew she didn't want him dead so he was safe. She flashed him an 'oh, you're so clever' smile and kissed his cheek. While she was near, she whispered, "I already told you."

He groaned. "Sebastia," he bit out.

She slung an arm over his shoulder and laid her head on his shoulder. "John, please don't be difficult. You just call the little Holmes and you can be on your way."

John sighed. "Sebastia, he's dead. Moriarty is dead. They are dead. I know it's hard to grasp, I had trouble with it myself. Just," he let out a tired sigh, "just let me go, alright?" As he spoke Sebastia had lifted her head to gaze at him in disbelief. He nodded to the restraints around his wrists, which she half-heartedly undid, leaning against his chest as he wrapped her up in his arms.

"Is he really dead," she mumbled softly against his chest.

He squeezed her a little tighter. Most people would think it was weird, cradling the right hand woman of the man who killed your best friend, but it was how they worked. "Yeah," he replied softly into her hair.

She took a deep breath, pulled away from him, and placed a kiss on his cheek. The killer was back, the girl was gone. She was a soldier like him, and she could flip that switch with ease. "See you later." She pulled her phone out of his pocket, not shyly either, and flounced away. John stood for a moment, staring after her. He sighed and shook his head, a soft smile crossing his lips.

He was in trouble.