Sherlock just sat there, unable to reply. Unwilling. Jim wished he'd say something, just to break the tension. He was usually a fan of the stuff, but when it came after a declaration of love… Love. It was an emotion only ordinary people should feel. As Sherlock always said, caring is not an advantage. Not for them, anyway. And yet, they had both fallen into the trap of loving people.

Unfortunately, it seemed like, for Sherlock, Jim wasn't one of those people who was worth loving. And why would he be? Sherlock was on the side of the angels. He didn't understand that it was possible to kill for fun instead of necessity – even necessary deaths made the detective weak at the knees. To love him, Sherlock would have to accept him. And that was never going to happen.

"I –" Jim stopped talking as John started groaning. "Oh look. The pet is waking up."

Sherlock blinked and looked over at his friend, who was slowly coming around once again. Seb had said that he'd live, but Jim hadn't been so certain. The soldier-doctor was good at healing others, not himself. He'd had a limp for months after getting shot – Jim thought it unlikely that he'd pull through any real injury.

"John? John, can you hear me? Are you alright?"

John moaned and tried to move his hands. He really was a slow learner with the whole 'tied-up' situation.

Ordinary people.

"I never expected him to find his way back to the land of the living," Jim murmured, crouching down so he could look John in the eye. He had an unfocused look about him that suggested more of a stupor than a recovery of consciousness. "SEB!"

The thug walked in, holding a bag of medical supplies. "He awake, boss?"

Jim shrugged. "Not particularly, but it'll have to do." He motioned for Seb's phone.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked.

Jim unlocked the phone and glanced at his adversary. "Mary is a stubborn one, you know. She got Mycroft to send Seb here a message. She wants to see John, and let him see their child. I imagine she meant in person, but as we're a little tied up here," he smirked. "I suppose this will have to do." He started up the Skype application and slapped John's face. "Wake up, soldier boy."

"Don't touch him!" Sherlock snarled, reaching a hand out towards his friend.

Jim snorted. "I thought you were good at tying knots, Seb," he said, nodding at Sherlock's free arm.

"I said 'passable' actually, boss," Seb replied, getting plastic restraints out of his bag and putting them around Sherlock's wrists and the arms of his chair. "He can't get out of this, though."

Jim rolled his eyes and called Mary. "Tempting fate," he muttered as Mary declined his call. While fate was a lie that the ordinary people made up to suit their own flimsy beliefs, Jim knew that 'tempting fate' was really just tempting your own hubris. "Pride before a fall."

Seb glanced at his boss, clearly perplexed, but Jim waved him off. He wasn't going to explain to the cheerful murderer that he was trying to take his mind off the pain that Sherlock's non-refusal had caused. He wasn't going to explain what he'd refused. He wasn't even going to think about it.

"DAMN IT!" He shouted, kicking John's chair. "Why won't she answer?"

"Calm down, boss. We agreed that you'd text Mycroft the details."

Jim sighed. "Right. Okay." He tapped at the phone again.

Tell Mary to answer my calls – JM.

"Check on him while we wait," he said to Seb, and moved out of the way. The thug nodded and moved to where John was tied up. Jim stared at Sherlock as Seb messed about and the detective watched with concerned eyes. What was it about John that made him loveable? What was it about himself that made him not? Even his family didn't love him; they were just afraid of what he might do. Being a murderer didn't mean he couldn't be loved – Seb had a large family at home who knew exactly what he did for a living – so what was it? The idea seemed ridiculous, but was he… was there something wrong with him?

Seb's phone vibrated in his hand before he had to find the answer to his question.

She will answer you now. But she is under my protection – MH.

He shook his head at the idea of Mycroft looking after anyone but himself, his family, and the Crown. The Watsons must have made a very big impression.

"We're back on. Lights, camera, action!" he said with a smile as he re-opened Skype and called the new mother.

Mary's tired, unsmiling face popped up on the screen. "What do you want? When are you going to let John go?"

"Oh, I'm sorry! You wanted him back? I thought you just wanted to be able to see him. So sorry for the… miscommunication. Your husband isn't coming back any time soon, I'm afraid."

"You bastard!"

Jim tutted, a smile on his face as he took out his pain on the woman who could have been his saviour four years ago, the first time she set her sights on John Watson's head. "Sorry, Annie. The good news is that he at least knows your first kid wasn't by him. You don't have any secrets between you anymore. Would you like to talk to him?"

Mary pasted on a calm expression and nodded. It was always a bad thing when she looked calm, Jim had found. But it didn't matter; he was happy to let her try her best to get to him.

"Here you go then," he said, flipping the phone around so John could see the screen. "Sorry if he's a bit… vacant. He's been through the wars, you know." He leaned over and slapped John's face to get him to wake up a bit, but the man couldn't even raise his head. "Maybe more than a bit. Would you like to talk to Sherlock instead?"

Mary burst out crying. "Get him back to me, Sherlock," she said through her sobs. "Keep him safe."

"I will."

Mary hung up on the call.