Mycroft didn't know what to say or do. It was like his whole world was crumbling down around him and all he could do was watch. Before he had met Lestrade or had gotten so involved with his brother's life again he would probably never have worried about hostages. Now the thought of all those innocent deaths if he didn't stop this, especially Lestrade's, plagued his mind.
"Why are you doing this?" whispered Lestrade. His wounds, which had been stitched up just a few hours ago, were already open and bleeding again. He didn't know what was going on or why the others were there but he wished he could do something.
Moriarty smiled. "Because I simply can. If I thought it would make things more interesting I would have shot you right know. However, this is much more fun and amusing."
Sebastian sat in a corner with a rifle under his arm. He hadn't said anything in quite a while but as Moriarty said this he gave a smile that looked just about as psychotic as Moriarty's.
Mycroft was contacted a week later by Sherlock. Apparently he found everyone, alive, in an abandoned building near the outskirts of London. At first Mycroft was overjoyed at hearing this but he stopped when Sherlock said there was more. Afraid of what words Sherlock could speak next he cautiously asked, "What's wrong?"
"The others are fine. Almost completely unharmed except for malnutrition. You see its Lestrade," Sherlock replied hesitantly.
"What? What happened to him?"
"The ligaments in his right shoulder and elbow have been torn. Something was also done to his eyes too. Mycroft, I'm so sorry but, I think he's become entirely blind."