Silence weighted upon the group, like a sack of stones pulling them down. Sherlock continued to hold the note forwards, expression completely rigid. Mycroft held a similar persona, but behind, John could feel his heart stop. Molly, poor innocent molly, in that monster's hands! Greg sagged backwards, blinking wildly at the note, as if doing so would make it all go away, but the words stayed solidly on the crumpled paper, jabbing painfully into the both the detective inspectors, and the doctor's hearts.

"Moriarty…" The words escaped John's mouth, like a ghost, breaking the unbearable silence.

"Well, this could be a problem" Mycroft's words seemed too nonchalant for the dire situation. The chunky man strolled forwards, taking the note from Sherlock's hand, and beginning to examine text. Sherlock scoffed impatiently at his brother, choosing instead to scan the ground around them, much to the befuddlement of John and Greg, who started at the detached family. The poor doctor could feel anger welling up in his stomach, how could anyone be so uncaring?

"Sherlock!" The man in question turned, finally noticing the rage which burned vividly in the doctors eyes. "Do you even care that Molly's gone! Or is it just a problem that she's been kidnapped?"

"It's not a problem, we'll find her"

"It isn't that Sherlock! How could you be so… so…"

"Sherlockian?" The consulting detective added helpfully, only to gain himself a death glare from his enraged companion. "You know me better than most, John. You know that I don't use sentiment in these situations, it's a chemical defect" The doctor continued to stare menacingly at the man. Mycroft eventually looked up from his inspection, noticing that the silvery haired inspector was still staring, horrified, at the note.

"Gregory?" The government questioned, quickly waking the law from his distant slumber.

"We need to find her…" Determination spread to the man's face, stirring something strange inside Mycroft's chest. Mycroft nodded to the man, causing a small smile to sneak onto the DI's face, before the duo turned back to Sherlock and John's intense glaring match. The two were now stood like penguin in the arctic, chests barely inches away from touching, as their glares held daggers.

Each stare bore heavily into the others, as if they were mentally attempting to dismember the opponent. Their piping breath mingled in the frigid air, dancing across bare skin, as the duo remained oblivious to their slight stunned onlookers. Sherlock's comely cheekbones clenched, as he looked his jaw in frustration; John's hand forming a threatening fist at his side, as if to punch the obstructing mountain.

"John?" Greg coughed awkwardly, causing the doctor to brake his glare, and turn to look at the dicey detective, who tilted his head to where Sherlock continued to hold his heated stare on the blonde. John sighed.

"Sorry, Sherlock. I get it, it's just… Never mind. Sorry" John shrugged the man off, choosing to trek back over to Greg (who was apparently the only other person who was actually capable of processing sentiment). Sherlock continued to stare; there was that outlandish flicking again. It was as if… He was actually upset that he had angered John. Impossible, sentiment wasn't a natural emotion, in his brain at least. Shaking off the quaint sensation, the consulting detective turned back towards his wannabe crime scene.

"You okay, mate?" Greg asked tentatively, as John retreated to his side, rubbing his eyes furiously, like a child who hadn't slept in weeks.

"Yeah, fine… It's just, you know…" John mumbled, earning him a comforting arm around his sagging shoulder, as Mycroft continued to examine the 'clues' alongside his little brother. Realizing that this would probably be as close to private as they would get, John decided to ask the question which had been niggling in his mind, since arrival at the deceased city. "So, how did you take it, the whole 'end of the world' scenario?"

"I don't know really" Greg smiled briefly, before furrowing his brow, and setting his mouth in a set line. "Not too well. I mean, everybody is gone, John. Pretty much everything, has gone. It was difficult at the start. All the stuff rained down; luckily I was with Molly at the time, so we went for cover together and got out alive. There was a lot of weeping on Molly's part, and a tad on mine, but we survived. Then Mycroft showed up, claiming that he'd been 'watching' us before it all happened, because we're a 'big part of Sherlock's life', but we obviously questioned him when he came crawling out of a hole with a dirtied suit on. Not his most flattering time, I suspect" John chuckled tightly under his breath, imagining the normally immaculate man caked in grime, but it really wasn't all that nicer thought.

"So we came with him, and you know, lived. We didn't think you were alive! I think that upset Mycroft a bit, it's difficult to tell, but I'm pretty sure it bothered him. He may not seem all that concerned with it all, but I reckon he cares, deep deep down. He's a nice guy really, once you get past the rocky exterior." The DI had focused closely on the searching man, throughout his speech, but after pausing, he turned to look apologetically at the smaller bloke. "Sorry, how's Sherlock been for you?"

"Yeah, we did alright. Survived, as you said. It's all a bit crazy though isn't it, I mean, aliens! But when I'm around him, I-"

"Come on!" Sherlock's command disturbed the doctor's rambling, as the flawless man began heading in what John assumed to be North, beckoning for all to follow. Disregarding their conversation, John hopped along after the cheetah like man, leaving Greg in his dust to walk with the unflappable Mycroft. "Moriarty has left a path; he wants us to follow him…"

Sure enough, there was a distinct set of arrows engraved into the stone of devastation, pointing in the direction the brigade travelled in. John trundled next to Sherlock in a stiff silence, occasionally glancing up at the parading man, watching Sherlock's convolute eyes as they darted over the landscape, in search of the pattern. They continued to trek across the jagged clumps of destruction, Mycroft and Greg following like obedient dogs shortly behind them.

After a further thirty minutes of walking in a deathly silence, they arrived in an open expanse. The isolated area looked as if someone had moved all the rubble, to form undecipherable statues around the land, the whole area made John feel very uncomfortable. Even more so, when Sherlock chose to halt and begin squinting around the desolate gap, causing the unsuspecting doctor to bump straight into his arched back.

"Sherlock?"

"This is where he is…"

"Moriarty?"

"Obviously" The detective scoffed, scrutinizing the area, as the calm looking duo from behind, moved to stand in a line beside them.

"So, what? Do we wait for him to just come out?" Greg inquired, taking his own examination of the area.

"He will be here…" Sherlock murmured, his by now battered coat, still swishing around his ankles as he swept forwards.

"SHERLOCK! Fancy seeing you here, and with your little pets, none the less!" The shrieking echoed eerily across the land, sending John's heart into a buzz of anger. Sherlock stiffened his posture, as if preparing to be hit, as the snake slid from beneath his stone. His jet black hair was pinned back to his pale forehead; Westwood suit still perfectly in place, as his cheasure grin showed way too many pearly teeth. Jim Moriarty, fitting into every ounce of his former glory. "Tell me the truth, did you miss me?"

"Where is Molly?" Sherlock's jaw was set, he could see the infuriated John straining at his side, but chose to believe the trained man could control himself. He glared menacingly at the smirking cat, watching his every movement, as well as simultaneously tracing the area for any sign of their missing red head. Moriarty laughed, half-heartedly, as he stood confidently in front of his cave.

"Really, Sherly. You have absolutely no manners! Your little pet is safe; I thought you might just want to catch up! This whole situation is really quite upsetting for me…" A sly grin held firmly on the tyrant's face, his words sliding slickly like sickly candy from his mouth. Despite being the only person who didn't personally know the criminal, Greg could already feel hatred welling up inside his body.

"Where is Molly?" Sherlock repeated, his voice clenching a rough outline as he continued to glare at the snarky fiend.

"Sherly! Forget her, I want to-"

"WHERE IS SHE?" Greg's shout shattered any tension which lay in the air, taking everyone by surprise; even earning a raised eyebrow from the criminal himself. The DI's burning scarlet face had eluded the group members, who had been too engrossed in the argument for their friend.

"Feisty, you're Sherly's little police man aren't you? I like it, a silver fox…" An expression of pure hunger was caught in the cannibal's eyes, as he traced the man's fibrous frame. For some reason, his possessive action made the usually debonair Mycroft, feel slight uncomfortable. Sherlock, on the other hand, simply scoffed in annoyance, and began marching towards the smirking menace.

"Whoa, whoa! WHOA!" Moriarty instantaneously signaled for the raging man to stop, whilst using his over hand to beckon something forwards. A sickening smirk once again plagued the rotten man's face, as a thoroughly terrified looking Molly, tentatively tip toed into the area. Widening all the spectators' eyes in pure horror.

Clearly in view behind the stricken girl, a flame was burning, in midair! The burning scarlet flames flickered violently behind Molly's head, threatening to bite at her innocent skin, like a coyote in the outback. Moriarty's grin was wicked as he moved his hand to demonstrate his complete control over the lethal element, which ducked and dove in midair, under his control. That's when it hit Sherlock, Moriarty was one of them!

"Do you like it Sherly? After everything fell, I realized that I can control fire! Awesome, right? Now I really can burn you!" The false elation dripped off his words like melted chocolate, his grin still digging into the consulting detective. John stared at the fire, watching as it danced effortlessly through the open air, before glancing down at his own dirty hands, and the jagged piles of destroyed building which lay nearby.

"Fire. It suits you…" Sherlock mumbled, staring at the debating John out of the side of his eye. He needed the doctor to act. Molly was still immobilized in fear of the blaze which radiated from behind her, ghosting heatedly across her pale neck and setting her nerves on fire. Moriarty had grabbed her from behind, while she was attempting to scout through the shops for any remains of food. What a nightmare the whole situation was. "Let her go"

"Hmm… No, I'm good at the moment. How about that chat?" The snake continued to question the man, flame still jumping around gleefully. Sherlock secretly began tapping delicately on the palm behind his back; he knew the doctor would see it. John eventually caught on, noticing the words 'rocks go' being patted in Morse code on the violinist's palm, setting the plan into motion. Mycroft also took note of the action, while Greg continued to glare hatefully at the sly man who threatened his friends.

"What would I talk to you about? Fire?" Sherlock began pacing forwards, ever so slowly, approaching the oblivious man in long, sweeping steps. "No, I much prefer the Earth?" John remained unobserved, as he tactically positioned a hand behind his back, flexing the muscle, and straining to summon a rock from the ground. The familiar gravel seemed to cake his skin once again, as a rather large stone rose slowly into the air, like a rag doll suspended and ready to act.

"The Earth? Well, there isn't much left Sherly!"

"Not the Earth; it's rocks!" Everything kicked in during that second. John's brigade of stones flew forwards, charging straight towards the unsuspecting consulting criminal. Moriarty let out a small yelp, leaping out of the boulder's path, but allowing his own guard to slip. The miniscule flame extinguished without his unwavering concentration, allowing the frantic Molly to run forwards and straight into the huddled group. Recovering, the criminal growled, miraculously summoning a flame from his hand and throwing it in order to counter the doctor's rocks. The forces collided in midair, searing through each other, before creating a mini explosion.

Lestrade watched in awe, as John heaved the heavy rocks from the ground, mentally, and continued to pile them towards the fire. Moriarty growled, forming whipping balls of fire in his hands, and shooting it towards John, who easily blocked them! But beads of sweat began forming on the doctor's brow, exhaustion flooding into his body. The tired men clenched his teeth, but couldn't stop his rocks from drifting slightly off course due to the loss of power.

Mycroft remained calm, Molly shivering behind him and a stressed looking Greg at his side, as Sherlock watched the two forces relentlessly attack one another. The explosions echoed across the land, casting the area into a fiery discharge of shrapnel. It was clear that his flames weren't going to hit, so Moriarty decided on a new tactic.

The consulting criminal turned to glare at the consulting detective, who stood motionless, gazing almost dreamily at his doctor. Moriarty grinned. Suddenly, the inferno switched it's path, changing to blast towards Sherlock! The slabs of stone continued to fly at Moriarty, and it wasn't until the last minute that John saw the flames moving to target his friend! He was too late, the flames were about to bite!

"Sherlock!" But all of a sudden, water cascaded from nearby! Extinguishing the raging vermilion, just before it struck the oblivious detective. The aqua flowed in mid-air, much like Moriarty's fire, seeming to have a mind of its own, like a centipede, as it weaved through the sky and pointed towards the criminal. Everyone gazed, wide eyed, at the ocean, then switched their vision to the whimpering Molly, whose hands were splayed in front of her. She was controlling it!

"What?" Moriarty yelled, summoning more fire and throwing it directly at the new threat. Molly flailed, flinging her arms in front of her face to protect herself, which coincidently caused the water to form a shield like barricade. This only served to enrage the fire manipulator more, as he continued to shoot streams of heat at the group. Mycroft and Greg were both being sheltered by Molly's makeshift shield, whereas Sherlock stood next to the exhausted John, who was panting like a dog from his power exertion.

Sherlock cradled protectively around his worn out companion, desperately questioning his safety. John glanced upwards, watching the worry on Sherlock's face. The concerned expression was so uncommon; it made the doctor feel special, despite not being able to hear what Sherlock was actually saying. Unfortunately, the touching moment didn't escape the criminal's attention (nothing really does), so, with every being otherwise distracted by his blasts, the snake opened a path of fire towards the defenseless duo. The blood red charged at the men, Sherlock only turning to notice when it was five foot away!

Yet another miracle struck! An almighty gust of wind burst through the area, forcing the fire from it's path and curving it back at Moriarty himself! The cyclone roared, like a stalking lion, Moriarty barely jumped out of the way. Avoiding his own attack by mere inches. The flame doused shortly after passing the shocked man, and the whole area dropped into complete silence.

Greg's arm shook in front of him, his fingers individually shivering as he stared at the air. Moriarty glared and scowled at the group, while Mycroft began rubbing his head with his hand. The consulting criminal straightened himself out, smiling once again, as he took a couple of steps closer to them.

"I didn't know…"

"I don't think we knew either…" Sherlock stated, pulling the still drained John up from the ground and glancing over at their silent companions. "This means, we have all four element right here" Sherlock tracked the area, the puzzle in his head finally slotting together. "You need to come with us, James"

"WHAT?" Four simultaneous shouts ripped through the tension.

"Just listen, if the aliens want the four of you, then we need to stick together. You may be the only ones who can actually prevent a future with no hope! Also, why would you have the powers? Why a set of people who were so closely related? Surely they would be dispersed around the globe. We need more information, and keeping together may be the only way we can overcome any of this!" Sherlock was almost shouting at this point, much to the perplexion of his followers.

"Sherlock…"

"NO! I won't let us all die!" The sentiment struck John, like a poisoned arrowhead. Sherlock seemed distraught, glaring straight into the doctor's eyes. His proposal was obviously the most logical in their current predicament, but it wasn't going to go down well. Moriarty chuckled behind their backs, weighing up his own options, before sliding forwards and sticking a hand out to the intense detective.

"So be it Sherly, a little time getting to know you won't be so bad!" Sherlock swallowed, a thick saliva coating his throat. Was this right? Regardless, Sherlock took the others hand, much to the outrage of those behind him, whose yells of disgust rang in his ears. Moriarty grinned wickedly, chuckling yet again, as Sherlock stared straight into the void of his eyes. Greg and Molly's screamed at the men, but were eventually silenced by John.

"He's right… We need all four of us…" The others stared at the doctor, watching as a fond smile spread onto his features. "I trust him" They turned to look at Sherlock, who continued to secure his deal with the criminal. "I believe in Sherlock Holmes"

The team is formed, I hope you enjoyed.

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