Warning: Non-con

John's head was tilted back, his teeth grinding as his brain swam. He felt so good. He began twitching and moving. He tugged restlessly at the bindings at his wrists to no avail. He groaned in displeasure and just rolled around best he could, moving his legs and torso.

He just had so much energy and everything felt amazing to the touch. His jaw was beginning to ache but he just couldn't stop grinding his teeth. He had rolled somewhat onto his stomach, his arms twisted in what he thought should be painful but it just didn't hurt. He felt like he was floating. He giggled and moved some more, pausing when he felt a most wonderful sensation in his lower regions. He ground a little into the bed and soon found himself lolling around enjoying the feel of everything.

"Looks to be working."

John looked up, his vision swam a little. He couldn't focus well on whom was near the bed but he found himself smiling regardless, "Hey. How's it going. The world feels amazing, don't you agree?"

The other snorted and replied with, "I guess we should get down to business then. You seem ready."

John squinted, his brows furrowing. Time for what? He didn't care and continued to roll around but stopped when two hands grabbed his hips and held him steady, pulling the last garment on him off.

Now everything really did feel good. He wanted to move some more but he was being held still. He tried to wiggle his legs instead to get this excess energy off but they were being pinned down by a leg. He felt the pressure but that's it. He cocked his head to the side and looked up at the fuzzy person.

The bed dipped a little as the man straddled him, slowly grinding into his lower half. John cooed a little, trying to wiggle a little but soon he found his head to the side, a dull ache in his cheek and blood dribbling from his lip. He ended up going into a fit of giggles as he looked up at the other whom had raised his legs.

"I'm a tree!" John gasped out, trying to stop his giggle fit but instead just tilted his head back and ground his teeth together some more. He soon felt pressure near his anus but just giggled out, "Heey, don't touch there it's gross!"

He tried pushing the other man off him with his legs but to no avail and soon he felt something pierce him.

"Hey, stop. Sherlock only!" He whined out, trying harder to push the other off but he felt a sharp snap as something impaled him and forced his legs to the side unnaturally. The pain soon died off but he didn't feel as good anymore. His stomach was rebelling against him as a copper-tinged scent hit his nostrils and the rocking of the bed didn't help. His bottom felt a weird pressure and light pain twinged his lower half. He managed to look down and see whomever had captured him was slamming into him, repeatedly. He could feel the testicles smacking his bottom, accompanied by a wet sound.

He turned his head and vomited, coughing profuesly afterwards when his head was slammed back into the bed as warmth spurts of something replaced the strange aching pressure.

"That's about all the use you'll be tonight." The other grunted before a sharp pain crossed John's brow and blackness encompassed him.

Sherlock paced the length of the room, his hand tangled in his hair in frustration.

"It's been a day already, who knows what has happened since John hasn't contacted either of us. Who knows what that crazy man has done?" He muttered, "Think.. THINK.. Where would he- Lestrade!" He barked suddenly causing the DI to turn and look.

"You know where this Alex lives, right? He didn't seem to have an exact plan, so he is more than likely at his own flat or a place he frequents. With that in mind, is there a place he knows or lives in close to where he entered the cab?"

"I have a file on Alex." DI Lestrade said.

"Yes, I get that. But does he have a place near here? I need to know! We don't have time to stall. What if he's carving up John right now? What if he's being flayed alive as we speak? I should've went to the homeless network, they're better than you." He hissed, his pacing getting more agitated.

Lestrade thought for a moment trying to remember, "It's a block down from where John was taken."

"Then why didn't you say so sooner? Seriously." Sherlock growled, turning on his heel and running out the door and towards the street John had been abducted on.

"Where?" He demanded, not even bothering to look if Lestrade had followed him or not.

Lestrade hurried after, "It's the flat complex after the barbers on the left!"

Sherlock nodded and pushed his body further, running at an almost unnatural speed as he shouldered open the door and made his way in. It didn't even occur to him to question the door being unlocked as he hurried up the stairs to the second floor.

Sherlock entered the upper half of the flat quietly, creeping through the darkened halls until he found himself in a room that made bile rise in the back of his throat. It was hard to get a reaction out of him, but this was different. He found John, naked and chained to a barren bed in the far corner of a darkened room. His nostrils burned with the scent of semen, vomit and blood. He saw no one was in the room and hurried to John, pulling out from the pocket of his coat a series of lock picking tools. He looked back at Lestrade and gave him the gesture that stood for, 'watch the entrance' while he went quickly to work on John's restraints. John was still passed out, luckily. In the dim light Sherlock could make out the amount of blood and knew he would be in immense pain once he awakened.

He finished picking the locks and stood back, his eyes scanning the room for clothing and finding none. He removed his jacket and laid it over John's still form. He noticed a bottle in the far end of the room and strode to it, picking it up and ran a finger on the rim. He licked his finger and cursed under his breath. He knew exactly what the man had given him. Sudden movement out of the corner of his eye gave him enough notice to dodge the attack. In his worry for John he failed to notice a well-hidden closet door where Alex had been hiding.

Sherlock quickly headbutted the man and, after the other fell to the floor, he wrenched the mans arm painfully behind his back. "What the hell did you do to him?" He ground out while Lestrade hurried over with handcuffs, cuffing the man. While the rescue was rather anti-climatic, that didn't matter what-so-ever to Sherlock as the man answered, "He is mine. He will forever be mine now. Neither of you can touch him now!"

Sherlock gave Lestrade a look that asked for permission. The DI looked the other way in response and dropped Alex to the floor. Sherlock looked fiercely down at the man before he grabbed his hair, wrenched him up and punched him full force repeatedly. By the time Sherlock was done, his hair was a mess, his eyes were wild, and the man was barely recognizable.

"Let me guess, he fell out a window?" Lestrade muttered, looking at the huffing man. "Exactly. Why don't you do that for me while I call an ambulance for John?"

Sherlock hung up after he received confirmation that an ambulance was dispatched to their location. He quickly went to John and bent over the unconscious man. He reached out and ran a hand over the mans hair, pressing a hand to his forehead. He sighed as he felt a fever. Alex had fucked John up. He gently lifted the smaller man in his arms, wrapped him in his coat and began making his way to the street as he heard the ambulance's wail in the distance. He didn't care if his coat got dirtied, he only cared that John was alright and Alex was put in jail.

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