Hi all. *Waves* Remember me?

Well, what can I say? Will sorry cut it right about now? It's not going to, is it? I'm 8 weeks late with this and I'm so, so sorry. And I told you you'd never have to wait to so long again and then immediately made you wait longer than ever before. All I can say is I'm sorry and offer my pitiful excuses. I was some real problems. I had eye strain, which is why every time I looked at my screen recently ready to write, nothing happened. My mind just went blank. I was so upset, I thought Id lost all ability to write anything, not just Sherlock. Seriously. My eyes were buggered. I still have an infection and have been told to rest but I didn't have time to rest and I got myself in a right panic. I needed help and I got some great advice. I rested for a couple of days. I literally sat in my room, didn't turn my laptop on or watch a DVD or anything, I just laid there and it really helped! My eyes are not so sore, the headaches aren't so bad and my drops are helping the infection. This morning, I decided to write for a couple of hours. And now, I have a chapter done. Its not the best I've ever written, but it is ready and I'm happy with it. I think I was having so many problems with it because I just wasn't sure HOW to write it, it seemed a lot of filler. I think I've sorted it though! At least, I hope I have. I know you'll let me know. I just pray the interest is still there! Oh and the next chapter is nearly done too. I mean it! Incredible what a day of resting your eyes can do! Thanks so much guys.

As that favourite group of mine sing: "I'm feeling happy now!"

Thanks (and a millions apologies) to my amazing reviewers. I love you guys:

MarlexFarley: Thanks :) Glad you enjoyed Worthless too! Enjoy this chapter!

Goldeneyedbeatle: Thank you! Sorry for the wait!

Lierene: Thank you so much! Enjoy this chapter! :)

JesstheGeek. What a review! I love you. So sorry for the long wait. Hope you are still with me. Back to John's POV here. Hope thats okay! I need to get on and post so I will write a proper reply to your review next time (ie, one had BETTER come) but I think you will be surprised by where im going with Mycroft... I hope people will be surprised anyway. And Moran, I have an even bigger twist planned for him... army connected... Sorry again for the massive wait! I swear it will not happen again. And I mean it this time!

Sulie: Now, THAT is a very good question. Hmm.

OddOneOot: LOL! My heart was in my mouth for a sec there, then you really made me laugh. Sorry for another long wait. You're about to see what John has been up to, how he has been coping. Looking forward to your comments! That happy ending is still planned! Promise! Enjoy this chapter :)

Lovelydancer: Thanks so much! Sorry the wait has been so ridiculously not. Im not usually this bad! Enjoy!

Kit-Kat-AnGel: Moran has certainly done something very bad in his past... to somebody... and it is army related. Lots of hints there! ;) Hope you enjoy this chapter. More will come soon, promise!

Dr Dragon Mistress: Thank you very much, your comments mean a lot! You certainly will find out what happened to Anderson. Not for a while though. Moran will be a big problem, and he has history with another character... I'll stop cos I dont want to give things away! John may have help... help that will surprise him... Enjoy!

101spacemonkey: And those nerves are justified. Yikes... John will find Sherlock. Have faith! :) Enjoy this chapter.

Obsessed7171: Thank you! Hope this chapter makes up for this latest, incredibly long, wait. The next one will be posted tomorrow at the latest. I swear :)

Alora05: Hehe! Loving the reactions to Moran! Dr Watson makes a return in this one... and he's stressed! Moriarty definitely has a plan. Enjoy and so sorry about the wait...

Elvendork-Infinity: Oh God, please don't hate me! (I bet you REALLY hate me now after that wait though, don't you? Eeek. And yes, the whole Moran being his doctor thing is not going to end well... I know Mycroft is acting like a complete arsehole but he might still be redeemed. Oh yes, he might be! John is on his way... and he might have some help! Read on, my love!

Laura Denvir: Get out of my mind, woman! I've got a feeling your spot on, again... and yes, John is seriously gonna beat himself up. And not just about Sherlock. Wait til he sees Moran. (Well done for noticing the clues!)

Toggledog: Thank you so much. Glad you enjoyed it. Writing Sherlock's deductions is tough, but a lot of fun. And Mycroft is just so interesting. I hope I can pull off what Im planning where he is concerned! And Moran is going to get a lot more sinister... Enjoy this chapter! :)

Shy Spirit Kitty: I will set John on anyone who hurts Sherlock, don't you worry... John has been busy... he's not gonna give up :) And thanks, Im so glad Sherlock is in character... hope you think the same about John and Lestrade in this one. Enjoy!

Muchieeees: Crumpets! LOL!3 Benedict! John won't let him down, don't worry! Hope you like this chapter. Oh God, Im Take That obsessed. And Mark and Robbie are seriously pushing ALL of my slashy buttons right now, if you know what I mean! Anywayz, enjoy!

Mustangwoman: Thank you very much. Sorry for the long wait. Enjoy this chapter!

Nova-chan: LOL! Yup, you got it! Insult Mycroft all you want, he deserves it :) Wondering what John is doing... you're about to find out! Enjoy :)

XmillieX: Yup! Moran :) Glad you liked that last chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one.

Ice Queen1: Hi! I hope I got this up before you got deployed. Thank you for all the emails! I am still alive (obviously) but I did have a tough time of it. So sorry! I really hope you get to read this and you make sure you tell me what you think! Sorry again about the looong wait!

Mabaraoshi16: Not stupid in the least! Moran is quite a well known name connected to Sherlock Holmes though! Much more about that in the next chapter! Enjoy!

Cousin Kate: Hehe! Yep, Moriarty has a bit part to play still! Enjoy this chapter!

Right then! Enough from me! You've waited long enough. Hope you like this chapter. I PROMISE the next one Caged is very nearly finished and will be sent to my beta (who has permission to chase me every 5 minutes) either tonight or tomorrow at the latest.

Best Intentions

Amends

It was dark and cold in the car park, and John had been standing there for well over three hours. Just there, on that spot, not wanting to move in case he missed his chance. It had been raining solidly for some time now, and John had grown bored of listening to the noise of the drops hitting the roof of the car park getting louder. He had to be honest, the weather was matching his mood, it was all looking pretty bleak at that moment. John wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep warm. Most people would say he was crazy, waiting there for someone who didn't even want to see him, someone who had gone out of their way to avoid him. But John had no choice. Even if he ended up being dismissed once again, he had to keep trying.

It was the least that he owed to Sherlock.

It had been ten days, the longest ten days of John's life, since he had allowed Sherlock to be taken from him. That was the hardest part of all of this for John to stomach. Everything that had happened was all down to him. He had offered Sherlock up on a plate to Mycroft. No, it was worse then that. He had actually plotted to bring about Sherlock's downfall with his brother. It had been the perfect plan, and it had worked like a dream. Only, it wasn't what John had truly wanted. To have to watch his usually always calm and collected best friend being bundled into a car against his will, terrified and desperate for John to help him, those moments would stay with John for the rest of his life. And he would never forgive himself. Sherlock has trusted John, had put all of his faith into him. And John had betrayed him. Now, just how was he supposed to live with himself?

Why should I be handed any breaks after what I've done? John reasoned. I'm getting exactly what I deserve.

He had only one goal now. To find Sherlock. And that was why he could allow himself any rest until he had put things right and made up for his stupidity and selfishness. It didn't matter to John how long it took, or how far he had to go. He would not give up until he saw Sherlock again. But something had occurred to him pretty quickly after Sherlock had been taken from him, and that was that he could not do this alone. He needed help.

He had tried Mycroft first. Retrieving his sim card from the mess that had once been his mobile phone handset, he had rushed straight to Sarah's, taken her phone, only explaining the bare minimum of the situation to her as possible. There were many reasons for this; mainly due to John not wanting to put Sarah in any direct danger but also to spare his own shame at having to describe his own betrayal of Sherlock to his possible girlfriend. And Sarah had not pried, apparently taking note of the state John was in. She'd stood back and watched closely as John had struggled with her mobile phone, his fingers trembling, as he had tried unsuccessfully to switch the sim cards. Without a word, Sarah had calmly plucked the phone from his shaky grasp, and had deftly finished the job for him.

"He'll be fine;" She had whispered softly, her tone gentle. "Don't worry John. Whatever this is about, Sherlock's far to clever. He'll sort it out."

And John had given her a grateful smile but had not replied. How could he? What would she think of him, if she had knew the truth? And besides, the person who had actually kidnapped Sherlock was the one man his best friend might actually be unable to outsmart. And that thought was enough to terrify John all the more.

Sherlock, where are you? What is he doing to you?

And John had called Mycroft. He had not be surprised to find that the number had been disconnected. He had been expecting that. The last person Mycroft would want to speak to was John.

And why should he bother talking to me anyway? John thought, anger coursing through him. He got exactly what he wanted, didn't he? He doesn't need me any more.

John had spent the next two days hopelessly searching for any clues that might lead him to some sign as to what had happened to his friend. But, expectedly, his search had been fruitless. Well, until, on the third day, he had received a phone call from Mycroft. The number had been withheld, of course.

And the conversation had been as vague, unfriendly, and unhelpful as it possibly could have been:

Hello?

Good afternoon, John.

Mycroft, is that you?

Clearly.

Mycroft! Thank God!

John, you need to listen to me.

Oh, do I? What's been going on? Where the hell have you been? You've cancelled the old mobile number, how am I supposed to contact you?

Now, John. This is not helping. Please. I don't have much time.

Where's Sherlock?

That is obviously why I am calling you. I must ask you to desist in your search John, as pitiful as it is. Sherlock does not wish to be found, least of all by you. He is fine and well, and is receiving the help he needs. He wishes to have no contact with you for the foreseeable future. I am truly sorry, but neither of us can say be surprised can we? Not after what you did...

What I did? But I was helping you, you piece of... Wait, is he there with you? Can I speak...

I must go now, John. I hope you have noted my advice. The next instructions you receive may not be passed on to you in quite such a friendly manner. I hope I have made myself clear.

Mycroft, please...

Have a nice day, John.

And that had been that. He had had no further contact from Mycroft. John had been angry and upset by the call. He had asked himself repeatedly whether he believed Mycroft, if it was true that Sherlock wanted nothing to do with him. John couldn't blame him if it was. He had let Sherlock down in the worst possible way. Why should Sherlock want anything to do with him? John had seriously contemplated giving up, as Mycroft had ordered him, and put it all behind him and move on. Sherlock would do better without a friend like him. But he had come to realise that he at least owed it to Sherlock to try and find him, help him, and explain his reasons to him. He owed that to their friendship, and to whatever that friendship could have turned into. Still, John had no idea what that might have been. He only knew one thing, the feelings inside of him that convinced him to ignore Mycroft and his threats and to keep looking: He wanted Sherlock back.

Mycroft had not made any effort to contact John after that, leaving the doctor in limbo once more. By the fifth day, John was going out of his mind. He had no one to go to, no one to ask for help. Sarah had stop calling him, finally growing tired of his snappiness and endless worrying. He couldn't blame her. What could she say to help him? What could she do? Could she help him find Sherlock? No. She was a hindrance, getting in his way, with her concerns and gentle nature. She couldn't help him this time. No one could help John. No one but Sherlock.

John had tried Lestrade a few times, but the detective had been supposedly "unavailable." He must have been involved with so many cases, seeing as how he was unavailable every time John called. So, John had gone to the station to talk to him, to try and persuade him to assist him in finding Sherlock. Lestrade had been away from the building, apparently. John had sat there and refused to move. It had taken three officers to remove him bodily from the premises.

John had been at rock bottom after that. But, it was three days later when his hope was restored, in the worst possible way. John had received a text that had both horrified him and excited him. Excited him because, at last, it was something. Some news about Sherlock for him to grab onto. Finally.

What horrified him at the same time, though, was the fact that the text was from Moriarty.

"You must be stressing. Poor you. If you want to know where Sherlock is, meet me and I will pass on the information. Sherlock out of the game is no fun for anyone, least of all me. Text me back. M."

Now, John had something to go on. Something to hope for. So John had bided his time and had waited at home for a few days, aware that he was being watched, and even followed when he did venture out. That was how he knew Mycroft was still there, still keeping an eye on him. That seemed a strange thing to do if Sherlock had truly turned his back on John and wanted nothing to do with him. Why would Mycroft waste resources like that? So, John had been smart, thinking and planning, just as Sherlock would have done, being clever, watching and waiting for a chance for him to get to Lestrade, unseen. And that opportunity had finally come his way. He had hung around at the station, keeping out of view, watching as the uniforms came and went. He knew Lestrade was inside, he had seen him go in. Now, all he had to do was wait for him to leave again. He had even disguised himself, hoping that his shadows had not discovered what he was up to. So far, so good. And that was how he had found himself in that damp and miserable police car park for the last few hours. Keeping in the darkness, hoping he didn't gain any unwanted attention. He intended to see Lestrade, to make him listen.

And he would wait all night if necessary.

Suddenly, John heard footsteps in the distance, and they were getting closer. He cursed inwardly, knowing Sherlock would be able to tell exactly who was approaching in a matter of seconds. John had not yet learned that particular lesson from his friend. He wished he'd brought a torch. He stood there, ready to run if need be, but then felt a rush of relief when he saw Lestrade striding up to him. John smiled thankfully, but then the smile quickly disappeared when the doctor noticed the unmistakable figure of Sally Donovan walking a step or two behind him. As they walked to within a few feet of him and John could finally make out faces, he felt his anger increasing.

Sally was smirking.

John balled his hands into fists. Not bothering with any greeting, he snapped; "What the hell is she doing here."

Sally tossed her head. "Nice to see you too."

"Doctor Watson..." Lestrade begun, but John cut across him.

"She has no right to be back here! After what she did."

Sally's eyes narrowed. "Actually, I have every right to be here. I work here. You, however, are trespassing."

Lestrade had stepped between them, clearly unsure as to whether John would lose his senses completely and do something, Lestrade hoped, the Doctor would very much regret.

"John," he tried again, less formally this time, "Sergeant Donovan has been transferred back here."

John went to open his mouth and argue this further but Lestrade held up a hand to stop him.

"There's no point us standing here debating the ins and outs of this, doctor." Lestrade told him, wearily. "The order for her to return came from a lot higher up than me. It's the way it is, and she's here now because she saw you hovering around in the car park and was going to have you thrown out and I thought it would be better to come and talk to you myself. So, I'm here. What do you want?"

John glanced away. This is what he wanted, having Lestrade's attention, but not with that bitch hanging around there too. Well, he had no choice. He had to take this opportunity while it was in front of him. After all, he needed Lestrade's help.

"It's Sherlock," John whispered.

Lestrade sighed. "I figured."

Sally raised an eyebrow. "Freak's not with you then? I thought you two were joined at the hip..."

John was in her face before she could finish her sentence.

"Don't you ever call him that again in front of me. Okay?"

Donovan was taken aback by his anger. She stole a quick glance at Lestrade, who was staring down at the ground. Sally brushed her hair behind her ears, clearly uncomfortable. "So, where is he, got bored of you, did he? Run off? Gone missing?" A cruel look spread across her face again. "What's up with him?" She shrugged. "Did the master get bored of his pet?"

John blinked. He then turned to Lestrade, with an expression of I told you so.

"Time away did her some good, I see." He barked. "Well done."

Lestrade was frowning. "Okay Sally, enough. Thanks for that. I can take this from here. Get back to work, please."

Sally eyed him. "If you need me to help you throw this loser off of the..."

Lestrade tutted in frustration, and actually gave her a little push. "No thanks, Sergeant. I said, go back. Now."

Sally gave a small shake of her head, glared at John, then turned on her tail and hurried away, her arms crossed over her chest.

John waited until she was out of wavelength and then turned quickly to Lestrade. "There's no point beating around the bush here. I need your help, Lestrade."

Lestrade frowned. "My help?"

"To find Sherlock!" John exclaimed, and then, more quietly; "Please Lestrade. I'm going mad here."

Lestrade looked down. "John, I'm sorry, but I told you before. I can't help you."

John balled his hands into fists. "Why not? I know you care about him. You're the only person I can turn to."

"Look, it's simple. If I help you, I lose my job. I can't risk everything. Not for Sherlock, not for you. I really am sorry."

John was desperate. He grabbed Lestrade's arm. "Do you know how he was kidnapped?"

"Doctor Watson..." Lestrade warned.

John didn't listen. He kept on, regardless.

"He was bundled into a car by his own brother. And it was my own fault. I stood by and let it happen. Now, Mycroft won't return my calls, won't even pass on any messages to Sherlock from me. Nothing. He must hate me. They could have taken Sherlock out of the country for all I know. They could have hurt him, Lestrade. Please. You have to help me find him!"

Lestrade jerked his arm out of John's reach. "I told you, I can't. Now, leave here and stay away. If I find you on police grounds again, I will have you arrested. Do I make myself clear?"

With that, Lestrade began to walk towards one of the cars. It suddenly became clear to John that he was leaving off for the day. John could not let this go, he could not give up. As Lestrade unlocked his car, opened the door and got in, John followed him and leaned forward, preventing the man from closing the door again.

"Dr Watson, I won't tell you again-"

"I had a text. From Moriarty about Sherlock."

"I don't care."

"He says-"

"I DON'T CARE!"

John stared at him.

Lestrade shook his head. "Look, just stay away from me!"

He pushed out, forcing John away from the car. He then slammed the door on the doctor, started the ignition and, without even a backwards glance, drove away. John, having fallen to the ground, now sat there, staring after Lestrade in complete shock, seeing his last hope driving off into the distance.

John just stayed there. He closed his eyes, the complete devastation of his situation hitting him like a brick. He wanted to collapse inside as well as out, to give in to the pain threatening to over come him.

That nagging voice would not be silenced.

This is your fault. This is all your own stupid fault.

The tears began to fall down his face and he let them. What good was fighting them doing any more? What good was any of it? He had no choices left. Only Moriarty offered him any help and how could he ever trust him? By turning to Sherlock's greatest foe, he was letting his best friend down. Again. However he looked at it, he had failed Sherlock. Only one question remained.

What am I going to do now?

XXX

Lestrade drove around the corner, keeping an eye in his mirror. He felt guilty, of course he did, but he had to stick to the plan. He looked again. There was no activity, the street was quiet. Maybe too quiet? He quickly slowed down and then pulled the car over, coming to a stop in a lay by. He turned off his lights and just sat there, staring down at his mobile now laying in his lap.

"Come on," he hissed, and then, sure enough, the phone buzzed and lit up.

Lestrade snatched at his phone, pressed a button and quickly read the text he had received.

He muttered under his breath and then replied quickly, always aware of any noise, any movement near him, ready to drive off again if need be. Still, there was nothing.

He sent a text back. "We're we right?"

It only took a few seconds before he got his reply. He scanned the latest text, and then the ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.

"We were right. Two men were spying on Watson. They saw me and disappeared. You have five minutes at most. Hurry."

Lestrade shot into action at once. With a smirk, he tossed his phone to one side and then reached down, pulling up the handbrake. He flicked his lights on again, and the street was immediately illuminated once more. He reversed quickly, and then swung the car around, heading back towards the car park. He saw the good doctor, still standing exactly where he left him, and being blinded by Lestrade's head lights. He could also tell that John was completely astonished. He flashed his lights, and saw John cover his eyes with one hand, squinting as the car screeched to a halt in front of him. John edged towards the car nervously, clearly unsure what to expect, and he visibly relaxed when he saw Lestrade. He also didn't try to hide his surprise at Lestrade's apparent change of heart.

"What's going on?" He enquired. "Why have you-".

Lestrade threw open the door furiously. "No time." He hissed, and gestured angrily at the other man. "Just get in."

John stared back at him. He shook his head in bewilderment. "I don't under-"

Lestrade tutted in frustration.

"Don't just stand there gaping like a idiot, all right? Do as I say, now, or this will all have been for nothing! Get in here and get a move on!"

John didn't hesitate any longer. He slid into the passenger seat, slammed the door, and then grabbed for the glove compartment, as Lestrade, his face grim, quickly reversed again, backing them quickly out of the car park.

"Lestrade, what..." John tried again, clinging on for dear life as the vehicle gathered speed.

"We were being watched," Lestrade replied at once, causing John to look at him, wide eyed. "Keep quiet, for now, until we are in the clear."

"But who?"

"Not now!"

The car sped off. John saw how preoccupied Lestrade was with the rear view mirror and he glanced over his shoulder.

"Are we being followed?" John asked.

Lestrade shook his head no. "My phone is beside you," he replied. "Have a quick look at my texts." John picked up the phone and scrolled back through the texts. He frowned and the conversation between Lestrade and Donovan.

"What the-" He began but Lestrade waved his hand to silence his question.

"We knew that the station car park had been under surveillance for over a week. They thought we hadn't noticed." He smiled grimly. "They're not as good as they think they are, Sherlock's brother's people.

John jerked his head. "Sherlock always says that."

"And he's right."

John felt a pang of pain at the mentions of Sherlock. He had so many questions for Lestrade, he didn't know where to begin. Mainly, what exactly was the detective doing?

"Are you actually going to help me?" He asked, somewhat coldly. His defence mechanism to cover up his desperation. Not that he hadn't already made that completely obvious.

Lestrade gave him a condescending glance.

"What do you think?"

John swallowed. Suddenly, he felt a spark of hope.

"I thought," he broker off, hesitating. "I thought that you didn't care."

Lestrade gritted he teeth. "Don't go getting all emotional, doctor. Sherlock is more trouble than he's worth, and we both know it." He shot John a look before adding; "But he's also my friend. Of course I'll help find him. But if Mycroft's men had cottoned on to what I was planning to do, I'd have found myself out on my ear." He considered; "Or transferred to outer Mongolia. Either way, I'd have been no use to Sherlock or to you. I had to do it this way." He lowered his voice. "But I'm sorry if I hurt you."

John smiled. "Thank you."

"Yeah, well, Sherlock owes me one."

John shrugged, "Well, I'm sure he'd say you've just pulled one favour back." Lestrade snorted.

The doctor then looked back down at Lestrade's phone. "These texts, were they from Donovan?"

"Obviously," Lestrade replied. "That's why I brought her with me tonight, to have a little snoop around and let me know the lay of the land."

"Donovan helped me?"

Lestrade pursed his lips together. "She wanted to. She noticed you, and was certain you were being watched. That was all her idea, to wind you up like that. She didn't mean those things, she was certain somebody was listening. Seems she did her own digging while she was away."

"Looking for Anderson?"John questioned, his tone cold.

Lestrade grimaced. "He was her lover, John." He looked the other man in the eye, momentarily taking his gaze off of the road. "She wants to help Sherlock too. She's changed a lot, John. She regrets everything. You should give her a chance."

John swallowed. It wouldn't be so easy for him to forgive. He glanced away, looking out of the window.

Lestrade sighed. "So," he declared, "where are we going next then?"

John shrugged helplessly. "How should I know?" He snapped back.

Lestrade swung the car to the side of the road suddenly. When they had come to a stop, he turned and fixed John with a glare. "First off, we have to work together, doctor, so you can drop the Sherlock-like attitude? Okay?"

John felt small. He knew Lestrade was right and he nodded, meekly.

Lestrade seemed satisfied. "Thank you." He leaned forward, placing a hand on John's shoulder. "I know you've had a tough few days, John. Try to put that behind you. I need you on my side here, not fighting me. Right, I don't see we have many option here. You're going to have to text our friend Mister Moriarty, like you mentioned earlier." Lestrade couldn't help but shiver as he said those words. Relying on Moriarty seemed like a big mistake before they had even begun, but what choice did they have?

John hated the sound of that idea too, but he did agree with Lestrade. There was no other way. At least now, when he faced Moriarty, he would no longer be alone. He fished in his pocket and pulled out his phone. Then, with a heavy heart, he texted four words.

"Where shall we meet."

Lestrade wiped at his forehead with his hand.

"Sherlock had better appreciate this." He said, only half joking.

John actually smirked. "Probably not." He looked at Lestrade. "But I do."

Lestrade smiled back at him.

John grimaced. "Text sent," he reported.

Lestrade nodded. "And now," he announced, unnecessarily, "we wait."

They looked away from each other, both gazing out of the window.

It was going to be a long, uncomfortable, night.

TBC