A/N: This story has a cover book and a spot video, please go to my profile to see it.

7 months, 7 days, 7 minutes, 7 seconds... since he was forced to be Moriarty's pet.

Has it been that long? Sherlock thought looking at the clock.

7 months, 7 days, 7 minutes, 8 seconds... since he was forced to be Moriarty's pet.

7 months, 7 days, 7 minutes, 9 seconds... since he was forced to be Moriarty's pet.

Frustrated he turned on the other side of the bed and pulled the cover over his head. Mycroft warned him in the beginning that he would not survive this. Holmes never thought that he would start agreeing on anything what his brother had told him. Involuntarily, it made him hug the blanket even harder than before.

"I can't sleep." Jim's irritated voice appeared next to him.

"Some people DO sleep." The detective replied with a false tired tone.

"Not you, at least not from 4 hours. And we have … 3 in the morning? OK, I will leave the lights off."

Holmes felt as the mattress got lowered under Moriarty's weight. Soon, Jim positioned himself closely alongside Sherlock's body.

"This case with bank robbery is getting more troublesome with every passing day." the consultant complained. "Why do I always have to end up with morons in the team?"

"I told you before that there were too many happy coincidences. A small leak from the most secure bank in the world, really?"

"The challenge made all interesting."

"You have too many unconfirmed information. (Of course, I would not mind, if you failed.) But making any move can only endanger your operation now. Wait for call from Sebastian. "

"That means tomorrow's evening." he exhaled loudly. "So as we both can't sleep, maybe could we skip to something more productive?" with that the consulting criminal put suggestively a hand on Holmes' arm.

"I'm not in the mood."

"You were avoiding me the whole day." He uncovered detective's head. "Oh, I see. Poor Sherlock, pondering about people, who he left behind. Does it even worth it? Why waste time for some useless pets, who are not aware of your sacrifice. They have already forgotten about you, anyway..."

"Enough!"

Not thinking, Sherlock pushed Jim from himself as far as he could and the consulting criminal landed on the floor with a loud thud.

Immediately, Moriarty's bodyguard, stormed into the bedroom. If not for Jim's calming wave of hand, the thug would surely threw Sherlock on the floor and broke detective's hand in the result. Holmes was enraged, but with the growing dread he quickly realised what he had just done. When Jim looked at him, 'fury' was a small word describing emotions, which Sherlock saw in his eyes.

Before leaving, the bodyguard checked the room and closed the door. The detective wished that he had not.

Meanwhile, Jim already managed to stand up and took a step in direction of Holmes' bed. Sherlock violently flinched back. Whatever Moriarty saw on detective's face, it managed to stop him for a long moment.

With uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, Holmes calculated chances for surviving this. He could try running to the bathroom, closing the door and hoping that Jim would calm down. Sherlock could also take him down (quietly enough, so no bodyguard would hear him) – hoping that tomorrow would never came and Moriarty would not send snipers to John ...

Jim chose first. He moved faster that Holmes thought possible and scooped closely next to the detective. Sherlock's face was emotionless, but inside fear was filling him completely. He did not dared to move. Soon, Moriarty forced him to lay down as before and covered him with the blanket. It was clear that the consulting criminal was enjoying the whole scene.

Whatever Moriarty was planning for him, Sherlock prefered to explain himself at first. Jim seemed to realise this and silenced him with a finger on his mouth.

"Hush." he whispered. "Are you ready for a story?" the spider asked with a childish glee.