John Watson walked quietly into the sitting room of 221B from the front door.

"Sherlock we need to talk about your blackouts," He said immediately, though not daring to look up at Sherlock's face.

He waited for Sherlock's reply, but was only met with silence.

"Sherlock, I said we need to talk."

John slowly lifted his gaze from the floorboards, inch by inch.

There was Sherlock's foot, then his leg, and then his hips-wait.

Why was there rope around his waist? And shouldn't his hands be at his side? Where were Sherlock's hands?

Hold on…

John snapped his head up, gasping as the image in front of him formed.

Suddenly, he felt the cool feel of metal pressed to the back of his neck and a soft clicking sound. He knew that sound all too well.

"Come with us and neither of you will come to harm."

Holding his breath, John let himself get pushed to the door, his heart pounding with fear. He hadn't gotten a glance at their capturer's face, but from the sound of his voice, he seemed…Scottish? John would have to catch up with Sherlock on that. Speaking of which, why wasn't Sherlock being lead out?

John started to turn his neck, but a low chuckle came from behind him, "No, no, you mustn't do that."

He gritted his teeth and continued walking, out the door, down the steps, and to the door that led them out onto the street.

Yes! This was it! He couldn't get shot out in public where everyone could see him! Okay so now all he had to do was step outside, swing around to knock the gun out of the man's hands, get Sher-

"You will walk out there and get into the car." Said the same low menacing voice.

John smirked, "Why? You can't shoot me out in public."

Another chuckle, "I can't, but I will."

John's face paled with realization.

"You are not who we came here for, Doctor, we are simply using you as a, what would you say, bargaining chip."

The doctor felt a slight push so that he was almost pressed up against the door.

"You will get in the car, Dr. Watson."

Damn! He thought, as he felt the metal lift from his neck.

"Open the door, Doctor."

John complied.

And he stepped out into London with the unknown man behind him. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, (a rare thing for this time of year) and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Every Londoner's perfect day, and the perfect day for a kidnapping.

Kidnapping? I'm an adult! John thought, laughing to himself as he walked to the black limousine that was parked right at the curb. But he stopped right outside the car door.

Now I'm making jokes while someone is threatening to kill me! John laughed to himself again. Wait! Now is the perfect time to look at his fac-

He felt strong hands on his shoulders, "You can't see my face, it's against the rules."

"Moriarty." John hissed the name between clenched teeth.

His capturer laughed again, and it sounded as if he were out with his mates in a pub, laughing and drinking and having a good time, not trying to be intimidating at someone he just kidnapped.

"Oh no, dear doctor, not Moriarty this time." John could just imagine the look of amusement on his face, "Get in the car, Doctor Watson."

To a passerby, this looked like two friends going out for lunch rather than the ugly truth that was behind all it. People always did seem to only see what they liked, maybe that's why Sherlock was so remarkable, he didn't see just what he wanted, he saw everything.

Oh, Sherlock, John thought, clamoring into the backseat of the car, I hope they're not hurting you too bad in there.

"Oi! You! Get up!"

Sherlock awoke to a gruesome headache, it made him feel as if his brain were splitting apart. The brain can't split, He thought, it's highly improbable.

"I said, get up!"

The detective mentally groaned as he felt a swift kick to his side, sharp and strong. There would probably be a bruise there in the morning…

Speaking of which, what time of day was it anyways? Sherlock never knew, but seeing as he was tied up and could barely see the things around him, little details like that were kind of important.

He blinked his eyes open and took in the fuzzy outline of his familiar flat. The familiar desk, the familiar books, John's familiar laptop, wait-

Unfamiliar person.

Sherlock ached all over as he tried to get a good look at the man in front of him.

"Whu af-eapoi-" His tongue felt like a knotted piece of sandpaper.

The mysterious man in front of him laughed, a good solid, hearty laugh. One that would make you think that someone had just made a joke.

"No use talking, Mr. Holmes." Sherlock could make out a gleeful grin, "You won't need to anyways. Just listen."

"Leewo- afdu."

Another laugh.

"Really, Mr. Holmes, I expected better from you."

The fuzzy haze still outlined everything in Sherlock's view, but it was getting a little bit clearer. If only I could see them, thought Sherlock, then I could figure out a way to get out of here. When's John getting back from work anyways?

The man who was speaking moved aside to reveal another silhouette of yet another man.

"Hello, Sherlock Holmes."

That voice was deep and soothing, almost like a doctor's, but hinted with a trace of fury and untamed madness.

Who were these people?

"We are part of an organization called SET." He said, seeming to read Sherlock's mind, "And we have been informed of a certain detective that could assist us in our experiments."

"Ah-" Sherlock started to try and speak again. This was nothing! Barely any information at all!

A chuckle.

"Didn't you tell him, Leonard?" The first man's name, Sherlock thought, "You won't be able to properly speak until that pill wears off, which could be oh, about six or seven hours." The detective could make out a finger waggling in his face and an expression a father would make to his child.

"Now," He continued, "you must be wondering why we didn't just ask you to help us. Well, Mr. Holmes, the answer to that is we need your mind," The man paused, "Physically."

Sherlock took a sharp intake of breath and made out what looked like a grin on the man's face.

"Don't worry, Mr. Holmes, we're not going to remove your brain, we just need you to cooperate and let us use it." Leonard spoke up from behind the current man.

"Oh, Leonard! You never let me have any fun!" Sherlock could almost hear the man pouting.

Leonard gave a slight laugh, "Let's just get him to the lab before the scientists get grumpy."

"Alright, but only for you!" The man had turned his head and was laughing with Leonard while Sherlock tried to focus his eyes on them and see clearly. His vision still hadn't let up and he sensed that it wouldn't until this "pill" they had given him wore off, which would be the same time he got his speech back.

But for now, there were more important things to worry about. What was SET? What did they plan to do with his mind? Where were they taking him? How did they get into the flat? How…why…what…the questions swarmed in his head like bees, the constant buzzing clouding his thinking abilities.

However, there was one question that stood out, that rose above the rest: Where was-

KLONK

The dull sound of metal against the back of his head and the taste of metal in his mouth was one of the last things Sherlock felt as his vision slowly turned black.

The voice was soft and calming, tranquil and soothing.

"Nighty night, Mr. Holmes."