Irene returned and placed the tray on the bed. She gave Claire her cup as she drank from her own. Claire gave the tea a good sniff and Irene raised an eyebrow.

"My mother was always fond of tea. I take after her in that way. Nice to know that Mycroft's more of a tea person, as well," Claire smiled.

Irene put her cup down as she gave a sniff. "Yes, well, I suppose I'll start. It's about Sherlock."

Claire set her cup down as she put sugar inside of it and stirred. Irene stood up from the bed and hugged herself. "We met such a long time ago. Under odd circumstances."

She turned as she heard a small tink. Claire had set her cup down as she swallowed her tea. "Go on."

Irene continued with a grin on her face. Almost snake-like. "He...was unlike any man I ever met. Brilliant mind. But, he didn't appear to have...feelings."

She covered her hands with her face, crying, as she heard a small thump. Claire had fallen unconscious on the bed and Irene smirked. She wiped her fake tears as she picked up her own tea cup. "Brilliant mind. He keeps several of his powders and experiments in the kitchen."

She sipped her tea with a smirk and placed it down on the tray. She took out a phone and dialed. "You'll be happy to know that the gullible Mrs. Holmes is out."

When she hung up, she felt a bit dizzy. Leaning on the wall, she gave a small cough. "I think you're the one that's out."

Irene gasped in terror as she saw Claire sitting up in bed with a smile. "And I'm pretty sure Mycroft knocked all the gullible-ness out of me when he taught me of certain tocins, drugs, and poisons. You never know when a spy like yourself might have something up your sleeve."

Irene coughed a bit more as she slowly closed her eyes and stumbled to the floor, unconscious. Claire checked her pulse and felt slightly relieved. She may have tried to poison her but she didn't want Irene dead. "You really can pick them, Sherlock, can't you?"

Meanwhile...

Sherlock didn't suspect a trap. When he and John entered the hospital, it was dark and empty. John suspected Anthea had everyone clear out to avoid suspicion.

"So, tell me why we're meeting in a hospital?" John asked.

Sherlock had his hands in his pockets as they walked. "Don't want to risk anything. Anthea insisted a hospital for some reason. Must have something to do with Smith."

John nodded as if he understood, despite being confused. They entered several rooms but there was no sign of Anthea. It was already dark outside as they quietly roamed through different rooms.

"So, this Smith worked with Moriarty?"

"Moriarty was a part of Smith's web. He used nearly every foe I've encountered to get information on me. The people I know."

John stopped walking. "Magnussen. That creepy bloke. He must've told Smith loads."

Suddenly, they froze as the lights went out. Sherlock heard John's heavy breathing so he knew he was no more than three feet from him.

"Sherlock..."

"Emergency lights will kick in."

"Emergency lights?"

"Do you think a hospital would have no back-up plan for a power outage?"

Blue dim lights lit up the room, making John jump. Sherlock gave a smirk for being right and continued walking as they entered an operating room.

"Maybe we should call her again. This is a waste of time," John suggested.

"I fear she would not answer your call, Dr. Watson."

Their heads shot up when they heard the thin voice of Culverton Smith on the intercom. Sherlock smirked. "Of course."

"Surprised to see you didn't suspect a thing, Mr. Holmes. You and your brother always prove me wrong."

John stared up at the ceiling as if Smith himself was there. "Where is he? And Lestrade?"

"The inspector is alive, if that calms your nerves. Mycroft Holmes will be joining us with his wife very soon."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "And what then? Is this it? The end of the game?"

"That's the fun of it. You'll just have to be patient."

The intercom fell silent. John rushed to the door from where they came as two goons with guns stood outside. He put his hands up and stepped back in the room. "Jesus. Sherlock, what do we do? He we do we get out?"

"There's no more we can do than play along," Sherlock replied.

John grimaced. "For the love of God, you're enjoying this. This isn't a game! Do you hear me?"

Sherlock was surprised that John was now nearly face-to-face with him. "You don't see what's-"

John shook his head as his face hardened with anger. "No! You don't see, Sherlock! Your brother and sister-in-law are being brought here and this maniac has Lestrade. He's been tearing us all apart for God knows how long."

"Well, let's not go overboard and give him more credit than necess-"

John grabbed Sherlock's coat collar and slammed his back against the wall. "I know you're brilliant, Sherlock, but sometimes you really make me question that. You need to stop playing this game! The last time you tried to play, it nearly got you killed!"

"John, I need to finish this if any of us are going to get out alive. I need you trust me like you did before. We will get out if this. I swear, I'll protect you. I'll protect everyone."