A/N: How's that for fast? I told you the next chapter was nearly done. So here it is, I hope you enjoy it.

Plus, I have the best beta in the world. She's fantastic, amazing, awesome, incredible, and all those other adjectives that John uses to describe Sherlock, because she is all those and more.

John and Stamford worked out that they had a few days before Mr Watson's patience wore out and he demanded to see his son.

The first thing they did was have John refuse to see anyone or take any food. After a couple days, people gave up trying to come in. They'd leave food in front of his door and walk away. John would leave it untouched and Stamford would sneak food into him at night. On the third night, John snuck out of his window wearing borrowed clothes from one of the other servants.

Hat firmly placed low on his brow to cover his face and a small satchel of food and whatever money Stamford had managed to scrape up, he crept out of the grounds and out to the street. He looked around briefly before he took off in search of the army enlistment post.

He was so concerned about avoiding his father's detection that he didn't keep an eye on his surroundings. It came as quite the shock when he ran into a man built like an ox. He stumbled back and the apology died on his lips. He looked up and kept looking up. The man was tall and scars riddled the brute's face and hands. Peeking from his collar was a tiger that looked as through it was trying to claw its way out. He had piercing brown eyes and blond hair, cut raggedly and sticking up in places.

John look a hasty step back.

"Well, lookie here," the behemoth crowed. "Oi, boss, come see what I've got."

John turned to run but the beast grabbed his arm and held in him in place. John looked behind the man gripping him tightly and saw a figure dressed all in black. His dark hair was slicked back and the single eye John could see in his profile was a dark brown, almost black. He was leaning up against a nearby building, smoking. He flicked away his cigarette and stood up, revealing him to be not much taller than John. But John was more frightened of this man than he was of the blond giant.

The other man strolled up to where John and the behemoth were standing. "Mmm…you're right, Sebby. He does look delicious." His voice was a rough Irish brogue that made John wince. He touched John's chin and brought his face up to the grim light of the lamp. "Better off than he looks. He'll do perfectly."

"I thought you'd like it," Sebby said with a grin. The boss tilted his head and breathed in.

"Oh, boys," he called and two other men came out of the shadows.

Seeing them John began to struggle, but he got cuffed by Sebby for his troubles. His head rocked back and for a moment, his eyes went dark. When he could see again, he could clearly make out the men. One was an older fellow, about John's father's age, frumpy and diminished in a way John couldn't describe. The other was a only a little taller than the boss but had the same dark hair and eyes. Only he didn't have the same level of vileness as the snake in front of John. If this man was a sea of darkness, his boss was the ocean.

"Sebastian always finds the best playthings," the frumpy one said.

"Yes, he does," the small dark one agreed.

"It was almost as good as that whore he brought me last time," the boss said. "Hope, take his satchel."

The frumpy one came up, grabbed John's small bag and began rifling through it.

"Ooh, lookie, boss. We've got some good bread and cheese and well as a few coins," Hope said with a crooked grin.

"Let's have some fun, Small, Sebby!" the boss smirked. The two smaller men fell on to John, knocking him to the ground. John struggled to get away but Sebastian held him tight. So tightly John cried out in pain.

They began tugging at his clothes. Sebastian acquired his hat. They removed his jacket and when they made to pull off his trousers, John started to scream. The boss suddenly jerked backward and Small turned around to help the other man, but he paused. He stood up slowly, his hands in the air.

No longer feeling the pressure on his arms, John wrenched away and scooted back. Now he could clearly see why the three men had stopped and why the fourth hadn't called the alarm. A soft, round-faced man had a dagger pressed to Hope's throat. John's satchel was at his feet, the bread and coins scattered among the cobblestone.

Sebastian had an equally frightening man behind him, a revolver pressed tightly to the back of the behemoth's skull. A wiry-looking kid was expertly pointing a pistol at Small. Off to the side was a shy girl, worrying a handkerchief as she watched the unfolding drama with trepidation.

But the one who caught John's attention was the man holding holding the slick gentleman by the collar. He was tall, not as tall as Sebastian and the man holding a gun to Sebastian's head, but taller than the rest. His dark hair curled fetchingly around his narrow face. His piercing blue eyes were trained on the slick gentleman.

"Shezza," the boss purred. "Come to join in on the fun?"

"No, Jim," the curly-haired man said. His voice sending shivers down John's spine. "I warned you what would happen if you stepped into my territory again."

Jim pulled himself from Shezza's grasp and straightened his suit. "Your little Baker Street Irregulars? Don't make me laugh. The Spiders go where they please. They don't answer to anyone, but me."

Shezza rolled his eyes. "Wiggins, shoot Small." The wiry-looking fellow fired a shot into the other man's knee.

Small fell, screaming and clutching his leg. Jim's eyes snapped to his fallen crony.

"You'll regret that, Shezza," Jim promised. He motioned to Hope and Sebastian to pick up the young man, and Shezza's men allowed them to do so.

"Where to, boss?" Sebastian asked.

"Dr Franklin's." His eyes narrowed on the dark-haired man being lifted by his comrades. "This time."

Once the three had gone, Jim got up in Shezza's face. As close as he could without touching the other man. "You win this time, my dear." He closed his eyes and rolled his head. "But, I won't forget this."

"You never do," Shezza said.

Jim grinned and strolled off. "Catch you later," he called with a wave of his hand.

"No, you won't," Shezza shouted after him. He rolled his eyes and then rushed to John's side.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

John looked up to see those amazing blue eyes and had to remember to breathe.

"I-I think so," John said. Shezza helped John stand.

"He wasn't going to sodomize you."

John rocked his head back. "Excuse me?"

"He wasn't going to sodomize you," Shezza repeated. "You started screaming when he reached for your trousers. You thought he was going to sodomize you."

"Oh. Yes. So, what was he going to do then?"

"He was going to strip you, beat you, and leave you for dead in my territory so I that I would take the blame."

"Why would-" John began to ask as he took a step away from Shezza before the man's proximity caused heart palpitations, but as he took that step, his ankle buckled under his weight.

"Ah!" He cried out, and Shezza grabbed him to hold him up.

"I thought you said you were all right," Shezza accused.

"I must have twisted my ankle when they attacked me. I didn't notice until I put pressure on it."

"We'll have to take you back to our hideout to get it fixed."

John shook his head in regret. "I don't think I can walk five steps, let alone the requisite amount to get to your hideout."

Shezza rolled his eyes and scooped John up in his arms bridal style. John wrapped his arms Shezza's neck instinctively. "Then I'll just have to carry you myself."

The shy girl came up to them and still twisting her handkerchief said, "But, Shezza…we don't know him. What if he's a copper?"

The dark-haired man looked down at John, "Are you a copper?"

"A what now?" John asked, and then it dawned on him. "Oh! A policeman! No, of course not. I'm doctor. Or at least one in training."

"There you have it, Molly. He's a doctor."

She stepped back fluttering nervously.

"Let's hurry, Moriarty might have sent for the coppers anyway. And that's trouble I'd rather avoid."

"Shinwell, take Molly back to the hideout. Let them know we have company and that we might have company of the police persuasion."

The large man with the revolver nodded and grabbed Molly by the wrist as he passed. They left, Molly glancing behind before rushing away.

"Toby," Shezza said, turning to the remaining man John didn't know. "Make sure Moriarty and his men didn't leave any surprises in our territory. We can't take any chances."

Toby nodded and went the opposite direction from Molly and Shinwell.

Wiggins looked up at the pair of them with the largest grin on his face.

Shezza frowned. "What?"

"Aren't your arms getting tired?" Wiggins asked, indicating them both with his chin.

John and Shezza shared a glance. The dark-haired man had been holding the blond the whole time he had been talking to his gang.

"You're very strong," John commented in awe.

Shezza blushed.

"Come on, Wiggins," the gang leader said. "You'll need to be on the lookout for any Spiders. I wouldn't put it past them to ambush us."

Wiggins just grinned some more and followed his boss as they made their way to the hideout.

A/N: Hi it's me again. Just a little note, in case people are thinking Sherlock wouldn't order one of his men to shoot out the knee cap of someone else, may I remind you this is the same person who tortured a dying man to get a name out of him. So trust me, pre-John Sherlock would sooo do this.