There he was. Moriarty. He was 17 pounds leaner than when I last saw him on the roof of the hospital. There were dark circles under his eyes, and that sardonic grin on his face. He was leaning against the wall and began to slowly walk forward, a hand tracing over the brick.

"You might want to rethink that, Mr. Holmes." Another voice said behind me. I turned and Mary was on her knees, hands behind her head, and a tall man holding a rifle to her head.

"Sorry, Sherlock." She said, glancing up at me with a grim expression.

"You see, Sherlock, we have some unfinished business, you and I." Moriarty began again, stopping beside John. He patted his head and rested his hand on John's shoulder. John glared up at Moriarty. The gesture may have been to infuriate John, but it seemed to also have a practical purpose.

"You're shaking."

Moriarty smiled a little. He held out his hand, the tremble was visible even in the dark. He looked at his hand.

"Disgusting, isn't it?" he put his hand back in his pants pocket. "That's why I have Moran. He'll make sure lovely Mary there is dead."

"Let them all go. This is between you and me."

Moriarty laughed, it echoed through the tunnel. "You see, I would, Sherlock. They haven't done anything wrong; they're too stupid. But the only way to get you to do anything is to threaten them. Nothing else motivates you." He shrugged and staggered forward a little more.

"What would you have me do?" Sherlock asked, his face grave.

"Easy, peasy. Take that gun in your hand and kill yourself." Moriarty said, simply. There was a smile in his voice.

"Don't I get a last request?" Sherlock's face was impassive, but I could almost see his mind flying at the speed of light to solve this problem. Moriarty shrugged his shoulders. "Your men leave. I can only take so many idiots in a room." Sherlock continued. Moriarty rolled his head side to side then answered,

"Moran stays."

"Fine."

The three gunmen behind us lifted their guns and sauntered away into the blackness. For a moment there was a pause as everyone adjusted to the new set up of the game, then Moran forced Mary on her feet and moved her next to me. I looked down at her, and she up at me. Her face was calm but her eyes were frantic, I wished I could have reached out for her but my hands were tied. Moran took his place behind us, everyone within easy shooting distance.

Sherlock cocked his gun but pointed it back at Moriarty. Moriarty snapped his fingers and Moran forced the barrel of his rifle so deeply into Mary's neck she was bent all the way over.

"No!" I shouted, afraid he was actually going to shoot her right then. But Moran looked up to Moriarty who was staring at Sherlock. Sherlock's finger tightened over the trigger, snapping it back. I winced expecting a bang, but a small flame spouted from the end of the gun.

Moriarty's face was confused for a moment, and he looked back to me. I couldn't help but smile a little at his confusion. Apparently his fake suicide hadn't just affected his motor skills.

"You should learn the difference between reality and lies." I said, tossing the trick gun onto the concrete. Moriarty was watching the gun, as I quickly pulled out a real gun and shot at him. I didn't have time to aim to kill, so I got his shoulder. He cried out and fell backwards onto the ground.

Kicking over the barrel of fire towards him provided enough distraction that Mary rolled out of the way, kicking the legs out from beneath Moran. He was knocked over and Mary grabbed his rifle expertly cocking it and pointing at Moran. But Moran pulled out a knife and held it to John's neck.

We all stopped.

Mary had the rifle pointed at Moran who had John by the hair, pulling his head back to expose his neck to the sharp blade. Moriarty was picking himself up, holding a hand to his profusely bleeding shoulder. I pointed the gun at his forehead this time.

"The final problem. I believe I've solved it." I said. Moriarty smiled and snickered, but Moran was much less deranged. He looked at the situation, dropped his knife and stood up. Moriarty turned to look at the tall man.

"You don't pay me enough to die for you." He said, turning and walking away. Moriarty's shoulders grew tense, then he turned to me.

"Catch you later, Sherlock." He said with a chuckle, before walking after Moran. Both Mary and I had our guns trained on him till he was swallowed by darkness.

I dropped the gun and ran to John, quickly untying his hands. I tried to give him a chance to stretch his muscles and rub his wrists, but I grabbed him in a hug before he could finish.

"John! Oh, John." Tears ran down my face. He gripped me as tightly as I was holding him, burying his face in my neck. Holding him again, after it had seemed we were going to die, there is no better feeling in this world.

I could hear Sherlock freeing Lestrade and the two of them helping Mrs. Hudson, but I didn't want to leave John's arms. The sharp echo of a gunshot cause us all to jump up. We all watched the darkness, waiting for an attack, but nothing changed.

Lestrade looked at Sherlock, shaking his head slightly.

"I don't know quite what to say." He said.

"Save the apologies and gratitude. I'd rather hear about the Neely case." Sherlock said. Lestrade looked a little shocked, but then seemed to remember just whom he was dealing with.

"Right." Lestrade nodded "I think we need to phone the police first."

I helped Mrs. Hudson back in her chair and John didn't leave my side till the police showed up and he was treated in an ambulance. Thankfully, none of them had any serious injuries, but they were all given orders for bed rest.

To Be Continued…