The pull of the needle going through John's skin made him wince in pain. He looked over to his left where a man was giving John stiches in his shoulder. John readjusted himself in the chair that he had been tied to. He had become used to the routine they had thrust upon him since he had arrived. Every hour or so Moriarty and his men would come in, question him, and then torture him. When he had hung there and bled for a while, they would send the doctor in to stitch him up and give him more blood. John could only assume they wanted to keep him alive while still invoking as much pain as they could.
The man finished up his work and promptly left the room. Still tied to the chair, John let his head hang down to his chest. He was so exhausted. His body had been bled, beaten, and bruised. His spirit had been drained. He was so ready to give up…
But he knew that he couldn't. He had to keep holding on. Whatever happened to him, whatever Moriarty did to him, he knew that he had to hold on. Not just for himself but for the one person in his life he could actually call his friend.
John's heart ached whenever he thought of Sherlock. He missed his best friend. More than that, he wished to be close to him, to see his cocky smile one more time and watch him as he practically flew around a room, making connections and deductions only he could make. At that moment, John felt more loneliness than he had ever felt in his entire life.
John tensed the muscles in his arm a bit against the IV drip that was feeding his veins blood. He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. Just as he was on the verge of unconsciousness, he heard the familiar sound of the faraway door to the room opening. His stomach churned and he braced himself.
Moriarty walked right up to him, an eerie smile on his face. He grabbed the chair next to John, spun it around, and sat on it backwards, his legs straddling it like a horse. He propped his elbows on the back of the chair and placed his chin inside his hands. John lifted his head and met the villain's eyes. Moriarty smiled back at him.
"Well then. Shall we get started?"
The sound of Mrs. Hudson's screaming awoke Sherlock from his light sleep. He jumped up from the couch where he had fallen asleep and ran downstairs toward the sound. He entered Mrs. Hudson's kitchen and froze. She was tied to one of her kitchen chairs, a bomb strapped to her chest.
"Sherlock!" she exclaimed wriggling and fighting against her bounds.
"Don't move!" Sherlock demanded. She obeyed and he took a step closer to her, observing the weapon attached to her. "Now, tell me what happened."
"I…I don't know," Mrs. Hudson responded through heavy tears. "Last night, I heard a sound in the kitchen. I got out of bed to see what it was, and then…I…I think I was knocked unconscious. I woke up like this!" She began to cry even harder then. "Oh Sherlock!" she wailed.
"It's alright, Mrs. Hudson. I'm going to phone Lestrade and the police force. They'll know what to do. Just don't move." Just as Sherlock turned around to reach for the phone, he heard a ringing sound coming from behind him. He turned toward the sound. Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock were both staring at a black cell phone that was sitting on the kitchen table beside her. It continued to ring.
"I… I think it's for you," Mrs. Hudson said. Sherlock stepped toward the table, picked up the ringing phone, and answered it.
"Who is this?" he asked.
"Sherlock?! Is that really you?" Sherlock's fists clenched tight.
"Moriarty," he said.
"Oh, Sher-ly! How I've missed you!"
"Where's John?" Sherlock demanded. Moriarty only laughed.
"All in good time, Sherlock. All in good time. I need something from you first."
"And what could you possibly want from me?" Sherlock asked, his mind racing. The phone went silent for a few moments before Moriarty answered.
"I want the file, Sherlock." His voice sounded dark and dangerous. Sherlock swallowed the lump in his throat.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he responded.
"Don't play games with me!" Moriarty shouted angrily. "Bring me the file, or the old lady dies. Oh, and let's not forget about our dear John." There was some shuffling and then another voice sounded on the line.
"Sh…Sherlock?" Sherlock's stomach dropped.
"John? Is that you? Where are you? I'm coming to get you."
"Sherlock don't! It's a trap! They-" John's voice cut out suddenly and Sherlock could hear him scream.
"Oopsies!" Moriarty said playfully. "Wouldn't want ol' Johnny boy giving away the surprise, now would we?"
"Let him go, Moriarty!" Sherlock demanded.
"Now Sherlock, you are in no position to be making demands." Suddenly, a beeping began to sound from Mrs. Hudson's chest. Sherlock looked over at her in horror as he realized that Moriarty had started the countdown for the bomb.
"No!" he yelled into the phone. "Fine! I'll do it. I'll bring you the file." The beeping stopped.
"That's a good boy," Moriarty sneered into the phone. "I'll send someone to fetch you tonight at midnight. Bring the file. Come alone." Just when Sherlock was going to hang up the phone, Moriarty spoke again.
"Oh, and Sherlock? There's an off switch on the back." The other line went dead and Sherlock stood there in shock. He had been so close to beating him, so close to ending all of this…
"Um, Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson said quietly. Sherlock shook himself out of his thoughts and attended to the old lady. Reaching behind the center portion of the bomb, sure enough there was a switch and a key taped next to it. He flipped the switch to its "off" position and grabbed the key. An off switch? Really? He became angry at Moriarty's sense of humor. He unlocked the chains holding the bomb to Mrs. Hudson's chest and carefully lifted it away from her. He placed it gently on the table and grabbed a knife. He then cut away her bounds.
Picking up the bomb once again, he turned to Mrs. Hudson and said "I need to go see Lestrade. Lock the door and don't open it for anybody. I will be back in a few hours." He then grabbed a paper bag, placed the bomb inside it and left Mrs. Hudson alone.
In the back of the cab car, he thought back to the few weeks before all of this had happened, when he had finally found the solution that would bring Moriarty to ruin once and for all.