It didn't take long for the people in Scotland Yard to realize that Sherlock never stopped to wait for them during their investigations. Sherlock didn't care whether or not the Yard kept up with him as long as he could finish the game. The Yard was even forced to have fake drugs busts just so that they could get evidence that Sherlock either found or stole. Sherlock didn't really care much. He was an untidy person anyway so the drugs busts didn't really mess up his home. Besides, he could always have Mrs. Hudson clean up afterwards. He had to go and catch the suspect anyway. The Yard was just getting in his way.

When John entered his life, there was no changing of the Yard's assumption about his lack of care for anything but the case. In fact, their assumptions were actually strengthened by the explosion at the pool. They were all angry at Sherlock for daring to blow up the explosions just so that he could kill Moriarty when John was right there in the room with the both of them. They wouldn't have much cared if Sherlock was only putting his own life in danger, but he also put the good Doctor in danger.

Of course, they weren't actually there at the moment that Sherlock pulled the trigger. They weren't there when John practically told Sherlock that he should pull the trigger. They weren't there when Sherlock had lost all thought about everything that was going on when it was John who greeted him with Moriarty's voice. They weren't there when Sherlock thought to himself that, if John really was Moriarty, then he would never catch the mad man because he would never do that to John. They weren't there, but John was.

John knew that these assumptions were completely false. In fact, he was absolutely certain that if anyone but Sherlock was put into any sort of danger by Sherlock's actions and Sherlock didn't think that he could protect them, he would turn away from the case immediately. It had never happened before, but there had been times, John knew, that Sherlock almost gave up in order to save him. Those were the times that John stepped up and showed all of his army colors. Those were the times that John killed and almost killed the criminals that they were chasing.

But the Yard didn't know any of this. They only thought that Sherlock would solve a case no matter what the cost. They would be proven wrong one rainy night when Sherlock was working on a case of people being kidnapped and forced to fight each other until one of them died. It was only recently that Sherlock realized that the people who were being kidnapped were part of the military and that was only because John had gone missing too. The Yard didn't know that yet though.

"Where's John?" Sally asked cautiously as they examined the latest victim. John had made sure that she stopped calling Sherlock names, but that didn't mean that she disliked him any less. She was just a little bit more civil.

"Was he just too slow for you?" Anderson said with a cocky smirk. "Did you decide that you didn't want to have to deal with him anymore. Saw that one coming. No one can keep up with the intellect of the great Sherlock Holmes."

"Shut up Anderson," Sherlock growled back tensely. "You lower the IQ of the whole city whenever you talk." It was an insult that he hadn't used in a long time, but he didn't have time to deal with either of the people from the Yard. He had a beloved doctor to save. "That's it!" he exclaimed suddenly.

"What's it?" Lestrade asked.

"They made a mistake!" Sherlock was on his feet and was jumping up and down as he explained this.

"What mistake?" Lestrade asked. "I don't see any mistake."

"They let John get ahold of the body before they dropped it here," Sherlock had a big grin on his face. "John gave me enough evidence to find out where their hide out is!"

"What do you mean John did?" Lestrade asked slowly. "Damnit Sherlock! Did you send John to get kidnapped so that you could have a man undercover?"

"Of course not!" Sherlock growled. "I would never do that to John. They captured him on their own and now if you don't mind I would like to rescue him."

Sally and Anderson shared a look of regret as they realized that they had been chastising Sherlock for not having John around when it was only because John was in danger, but they said nothing more.

"Alright then," Lestrade was now much more anxious to catch the culprit and save his friend from these bastards. "Where are we going?"

Sherlock was already heading towards Lestrade's police car, the one that he refused to ride in on any other case, as he explained where John was and just what the police were going to do to get John out of there.

It didn't take long for them to reach the location. The body didn't float too far away from the actual hide out when it was fished out of the river.

Before they could enter the building, however, a man came out with a gun pointed at one of his hostage's heads. To be exact, at John's head. Sherlock took the moment to examine John and cringed at what he saw. John wasn't very bad off. He might have been beaten slightly to gain his compliance, but it didn't look like he had been forced to participate in the fights to the death yet. The thing that worried Sherlock, though, was that John had wide eyes that were skipping from place to place in obvious distress. His left hand was shaking and his limp was very prominent, so much so that the captor practically had to hold all of his weight. Conclusion: John was suffering from his PTSD. Something must have happened inside that building to trigger memories of the war.

John suffering from PTSD was never good. There were two things that happened when people fell into a form of PTSD. The person either froze in fear or they lashed out in battle. John was the type that froze in fear, but not the normal fear of being hurt in battle once more. John's mind always remembered that the people around him were innocents so whenever he suffered from PTSD he froze in fear of hurting them. John never wanted to hurt innocents no matter what the reason was. Unfortunately, that made it practically impossible for Sherlock to signal for him to somehow escape in some sort of plan.

"Don't come any closer," the captor growled. He was military as well, Sherlock realized. He was wounded in the war and then left behind only to be captured and tortured. He lost his left leg during the torture and his right arm was barely mobile due to the shot. But why was he attacking soldiers? Oh, Sherlock realized as he looked a little closer, the shot was part of friendly fire. All of his suffering was caused by a misfired bullet from his own side. "I am not going to jail."

Sherlock put his hands up slowly. "I'll let you go," he said calmly. Much more calmly than he felt.

"What are you saying Sherlock?" Lestrade growled from next to him where his gun was lowered and ready to raise at any moment.

"No you won't," the man hissed. "The police never stick to that."

"Well I'm not the police," Sherlock said as though he had been insulted. "I'll let you go and I'll stop chasing after you as long as you let John go."

"I'm not stupid," said the man. "Even if you let me go, there is no way they are going to."

"Lestrade," Sherlock said. "Leave."

"Sherlock!" Lestrade was not willing to leave a criminal like this out in the open.

"I am not going to let this man hurt John anymore," Sherlock hissed, "and if that means that we must let him go than I am okay with that."

"You know that John wouldn't be okay with that," Lestrade tried to reason with him. "He doesn't want more of his men to be killed."

"I don't care about them," Sherlock said. "I just want John to be safe." It was the most honest thing that Lestrade had ever heard Sherlock say, but Lestrade couldn't allow this to happen. He had to catch the criminal. That was his job.

"I'm sorry Sherlock," Lestrade shook his head. "I can't do that."

"Fine," Sherlock turned back to the captor. "If you take me inside and promise that you will let John go, I will help you find a way to escape. I'll even walk with you until you are out of the city and out of the reach of these policemen." He walked forward slowly and the captor walked backwards dragging John back into the darkness of the building behind them.

"There," Sherlock said as he closed the door behind him. "Now give John to me."

"I told you that I'm not stupid," the man said. "I'm not letting him go until I have escaped. Only then will I let your precious John go."

"Fine," Sherlock said tensely. He walked forward, past the man and farther into the building. There were several rooms with doors that were locked, probably holding the screaming prisoners in them. One door a little ways down was slightly ajar, probably the one the John was in, and Sherlock took a moment to look inside. It was hardly big enough for a coat closet and they had shoved Watson in there. That reminded Sherlock, though, there was no way that this man was doing all of this alone. "Where is your partner?" Sherlock asked as he looked around.

"One of our prisoners escaped this morning," the man mumbled from behind him. "Killed my partner before I was able to shoot him down. Poor little John was standing right there as it all happened. Got a bit of blood on him from it. The soldier was still bleeding and Doctor John tried to help. I let him get through all that he could do. I even provided him with the supplies to get it done. I wanted to test his skills. Then I shot the guy in the head, but that is what happens during a war."

"A war?" Sherlock asked. He wasn't going to think about how that would trigger the memories of John's time in the enemy hands when the enemy had him heal the other prisoners only to torture them some more. That was John's worst memories and usually what his PTSD was about.

"Of course," the man growled. "This country is corrupt and I'm putting together an army that will be able to take over. I'll make it better. I'll make everything better."

"And you think that John will have anything to do with that?" Sherlock almost laughed. He would have if the situation was any different, but he was willing to take that chance.

"He doesn't have much of a choice," the man laughed. "He's the first army doctor that I've been able to get my hands on. I need him. Don't worry though. I'll make sure to toughen him up before I send him out there. I don't want anyone in my army who is so weak."

Sherlock turned suddenly to face the man with a scowl. "You said you'd let him go," he growled.

"Did I?" the man laughed. He was getting cocky. "Perhaps I should have said that I wouldn't kill him. If anyone kills him, it will be your own government. I don't care about the rest of the men that I've recruited up to this point. They can all be replaced. By I need the doctor for my army. So I won't be letting him go and you'll still help me to escape because I can still hurt him."

"I won't let you lay another finger on him," Sherlock growled as he examined the man's hold to try to find any weaknesses that he could exploit. He couldn't find anything. "Give him back to me right now."

"You don't get to make the demands," the man smirked. "I'm holding all the cards right now."

Sherlock continued to look for something that he could do, but he found nothing. The only person that could do something would be John. Sherlock had never attempted to bring John out of this bad of an attack of PTSD. He didn't really have a clue how to. On other occasions he found that embracing the man helped him to calm down in these situations, but he couldn't when the captor was holding on to him.

"John," he said in his most calming tone. "John. John. John. John. John. John. John. John. John. John. John. John. John. John." It wasn't working.

"Shut up," the man growled as he forced his gun harder into John's head. "Just move on or I'll shoot him."

"Fine," Sherlock growled. He really didn't have any other choice. He would not risk any harm coming to his flat mate.

They weren't walking for long when John made his first noise during this whole business. "Sherlock," he mumbled distantly.

"John," Sherlock answered, but he did not turn. He didn't need to. He knew that John was back from his bout of PTSD. The doctor never did stay in those long even when they were as bad as that one. Sometimes he just had to have time to get over it. Apparently that time was up. Good. It didn't seem like the captor knew. John was very good at acting. He made it seem like he was still deep in his PTSD but worried about Sherlock. All's Sherlock had to do now was create an opening.

"I told you to shut up," the captor growled.

"And I don't care," Sherlock turned with a smirk. "I told you I wouldn't let you lay another hand on John."

"I don't think that you get any say in the matter," the man said.

"Well," Sherlock said. "You said that John was indispensable. So you can't kill him. That means that you can't shoot him in the head. Your threat is nothing to me when I know all of the facts."

"Fine," the captor growled. "Then I'll just put my gun somewhere that's less vital. Maybe his shoulder." He moved the gun away from John's head to replace it somewhere else, but that was a mistake on his part.

As soon as the gun was far enough away from John that he could grad it, he made his move. He slammed his head backwards into the wound right shoulder as he used his left hand to grab the gun away from the man. The man, who had previously been a right-handed person couldn't hold onto the gun and, before anyone could blink, he was on the ground and John held a gun to his face.

"You're right," Sherlock smirked. "John would have been good for your army, but, as I said, he would never want to join you."

John didn't give the man a chance to answer. He used the pistol's butt to knock the guy out. "Don't ever do that again," John said as he turned to Sherlock.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sherlock shrugged.

"Don't think I don't know that you were going to let this guy go in exchange for my life," John said.

"Don't be stupid John," Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically. "I was just waiting for the opportune moment."

"Don't do it again," John repeated.

"If you're asking me not to save your life again," Sherlock began to say, but he was cut off by John.

"Don't do it again."

"Fine," Sherlock finally conceded. He would allow John to win in this conversation, but that didn't mean he wouldn't actually do it again. He knew it and John knew it, but neither was going to talk about that. They both did, however, make a resolve to take better care of John so that he would stop getting kidnapped and putting Sherlock into situations where he would have to do that.

Lestrade was not happy when the two of them made their way out of the building, but he decided to forgo lecturing them so that he could secure the suspect and release the rest of the prisoners. He would ask them about their statements later and both of them would go with the story that Sherlock was just buying time, but the Yard now knew better. They would never be able to forget the moment where Sherlock would have willingly let a serial killer escape just to save John's life. They would never again assume that Sherlock would willingly give up John's life just to solve a case.

Ok. I just want to mention that I don't actually know what any of the symptoms for PTSD. I was only taking a guess about it.

(If you haven't seen a Scandal in Belgravia don't read this line) Also, I know that Sherlock didn't actually make the bomb go off, but this version fitted my story better.