Chapter 1

"Don't. Be. Dead."

As Sherlock watched in the graveyard as John suddenly started to cry by his grave, he wanted to suddenly run up to him, show him he wasn't dead, that he was fine and that they could go back to Baker Street, solve crimes, blog about it, forget his pants. But that could very well cost John his life.

At St Barts, Molly was clearing up any evidence of him still being alive, paying the homeless society for being his extras, and securing a flight for him to escape to Belgravia. Moriarty was dead, but the snipers had been ordered to shoot John if Sherlock every associated with him again. Ditto Mrs Hudson and Greg. He hadn't said anything about Mycroft, but he decided not to risk it. Molly herself was taking an awful risk helping him out.

Just as he turned to go, he heard a cold and unsettlingly familiar voice behind him.

"You really thing it's all over now, don't you? You really think you escaped."

Moriarty. Sherlock turned to where he had heard the voice and sure enough, he was there, looking as smug and sinister as always. Sherlock was almost speechless.

"You're alive…" he said in a whisper. Moriarty looked down at himself in confusion and then looked up as if he had just got a joke.

"So I am! How very well spotted, Mr consulting detective" Then his smile turned sinister again. "If you think I'm going to give my life for the "incredible" Sherlock Holmes you have another thing coming." He clicked his fingers, and looked behind Sherlock.

Sherlock turned and saw John again. There was a sniper in the tree, very well hidden, about five ft from where John was, the rifle aimed right at John as he sobbed. Sherlock turned quickly and looked at Moriarty, sharply and venomously.

"You promised. You said all I had to do was jump and they would be safe." Moriarty gave a childish smile.

"Yeah, well you see, about that….I LIED!" He said, suddenly evil.

"But there is one thing you can give me, Sherlock. One thing and Poof! Your darling John is safe, along with the old woman and your inspector friend."

Sherlock hesitated for a brief moment, knowing that whatever Moriarty wanted would be cruel, sadistic, and could end very badly for him. Finally he took a deep breath.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, his vulnerability showing no matter how hard he tried to fight it.

"Oh nothing from you, honey, just you." He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Sherlock looked confused.

"I simply want to buy you. Just for a year or two, depends how long you last."

Of course. This had been Moriarty's plan all along. He probably knew that Sherlock would somehow cheat death like always and then make him his until Sherlock died as a result. Much more fun than making him jump off of a cliff.

He looked at John and back at Moriarty.

"What would this entail?"

"Simple. You become my plaything. I can have my fun with you whenever I like, and I get to introduce you to all my friends in the big bad world."

"And John stays alive."

"You have my word."

Sherlock closed his eyes and seemed to make up his mind by stretching out his shaking hand. Moriarty gripped it firmly and the two men shook. As they did, a man who Sherlock recognised as a Mr Sebastian Moran grabbed him and sedated him. Sherlock let out a small cry before slowly blacking out, and wondering what he had just let himself in for.