Sherlock was already questioning his decision to leave John alone by the time he got into a cab. He considered sending him a text, but John would probably only get frustrated if Sherlock sent one so soon after leaving. John was already angry with Sherlock, because probably he thought he was being patronising, but that wasn't it at all. In fact, if anyone could take care of themselves, it was John Watson. But this wasn't normal circumstances. This man they were dealing with, he was so much more than they had ever seen before.

Sherlock didn't want to admit it out loud, but possibly this man was more than Sherlock was prepared to deal with. So if Sherlock didn't know what to do, how would John? Brute force wouldn't help him, he knew that.

And really, even if John could deal with the man himself, Sherlock wanted to be there to help him. Sherlock had known he cared for John before all this, but now that he was so scared John was going to be taken away from him, he could see quite clearly that what he had taken for fondness was much closer to adoration.

Love.

And Sherlock couldn't bear to think that the man he possibly loved was going to be taken from him, never to be seen again. Not his John.

Sherlock tried to convince himself that he was being silly. It's not like he absolutely knew he was going to take John…

But he did. The Copycat was going to take John if he could get his hands on him, that was just a fact. And nobody could take his John. Nobody.

So instead of texting John and making him angry, Sherlock sent a text to Lestrade.

I need you to check on John. – SH

Check on him? He's not a kid, you know. – GL

Sherlock sighed in irritation. How was he supposed to explain this without Lestrade knowing too much?

But then his mobile buzzed again.

Is he in danger? – GL

Sherlock wasn't sure how Lestrade had assumed that, but he also wasn't sure he cared at this point.

Yes. – SH

Why? What's happened? – GL

Will you just check on him? Please. – SH

PLEASE? Shit, something must be wrong. I'll be back at the room in twenty minutes. I'll check. – GL

Twenty minutes wasn't what Sherlock preferred, but it was better than the hour it would take Sherlock to return.

Thank you. – SH

… A please AND a thank you. Now you're worrying me. – GL

You should be worried. I am. – SH

I'll go back as soon as I can. – GL

Sherlock felt an odd appreciation for Lestrade in that moment. Anyone else might not have taken Sherlock seriously. He trusted that Lestrade was being honest and felt a little better as the cab took him away from campus.

He arrived at the butcher shop, went around back, and Chester Wilkinson was standing outside. Sherlock didn't miss the cleaver at his hip. He did work at a butcher shop, so it could have been there because of that, but Sherlock suspected it was for self-defense too.

"Your boss works quickly," said Sherlock, getting right to the point. He didn't feel comfortable being away from John longer than he needed to.

"He's everywhere," Chester replied with an easy smile.

"Apparently, since you're out here waiting for me."

"He knew you'd be back when you heard that I got out. Or never went in, technically."

"And he knew it would be today?"

"He knew it'd be right now," replied Chester.

Sherlock considered this. If he knew John was at the room alone…

Chester must've seen the panic on Sherlock's face. "Probably your friend is already gone," said Chester.

"Someone would see him get taken away," Sherlock said. "Nobody would allow that."

"But John's going to go straight to him," replied Wilkinson. "That's the beauty."

"But why would John…" Sherlock began, but then the realisation hit him like a bus.

How could he ever have been so stupid?

How could he not have realised?

You've even seen me before.

If you know who I am, you'll know where to find me.

"Figured it out then?" Wilkinson asked.

I'm in the alphabet.

That one was the real clue. The one that should have told Sherlock everything.

And Chester was right. John would go right to him.

"Oh my god," Sherlock breathed.

"Yup, he's got it!" Chester chuckled.

Sherlock was so furious with himself that he wanted to violently take it out on Mr Chester Wilkinson, but he didn't have the time. Because now that he knew who it was, he knew exactly where to find him.

Professor James Moriarty.

And probably, John decided he needed help with his homework and left the room to go to his office hours… which happened to be right now. John must've figured that just going to the office and back, there wouldn't be an issue. No need to warn Sherlock of that. He figured he'd be back before Sherlock and there'd be no reason for his roommate to think he'd gone anywhere.

But that was exactly what Professor Moriarty intended all along. He'd gotten John's trust all semester just for this moment.

Sherlock turned around and walked back towards the street.

"Just because you know who he is doesn't mean you can save that partner of yours!" Wilkinson called after him.

Sherlock almost took the gun out of his coat and shot the butcher in the head, but he kept himself from it with all of his willpower.

Sherlock got in the cab and was tapping his foot restlessly. He wanted to text John, and for John to answer telling him to stop being a nag so that Sherlock's blood would stop pumping so damn fast in his veins.

But then his phone went off and he took it out of his coat so quickly it slipped from his hands and he had to pick it up from the cab floor.

It was Lestrade.

Sherlock, John's not in the room. Is something wrong? – GL

Oh no. God, no. It was the only thing going through Sherlock's head, just NO repeated over and over, like his John loop, except more frantic than ever before.

Sherlock didn't plan to waste time going back to the room. He had the cabbie stop in front of the main part of campus…

And Lestrade was waiting there.

Sherlock's eyebrows pulled together as he got out.

"What're you doing here?" he asked, not bothering to stop walking. Lestrade was forced to keep stride.

"Something's really wrong with John, isn't it?"

"He might already be dead," said Sherlock.

There was a beat of silence. "I'd ask if you were kidding, except you don't joke."

"Do you have something else to say? I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"I want to come with you," Lestrade said.

This made Sherlock break stride for half a moment. "No," he said then. But then he added, "Why would you want to?"

"Because John's my mate. And saving people is what I want to do, Sherlock, remember?"

"I don't need help."

"But I want to help anyway. I'm sure even The Notesman can't do everything."

Sherlock looked back at him for barely a moment, then looked ahead again. "Probably he can't, but what's that got to do with this conversation?"

"My pop mentioned that you got taken in for questioning regarding that case, because he knew I was friends with you. Since I'd already been suspicious, it was the final proof. I've known for a while now."

"And you never told dad the truth?" Sherlock asked dryly.

"Of course not," Lestrade said. "Maybe the force wouldn't agree with me, but you're a hero. I'd never turn you in for that."

"I'm not a hero."

"You save people, Sherlock," Lestrade said. "Even if that isn't what matters to you, it's true. And, apparently, you put your life and the life of your friends in danger while you're at it. That must be why someone took John."

"You're not as dim as you look," Sherlock said, his gait quickening to a near-jog when he could see the building he needed to get to in the distance.

"Thanks," Lestrade said, not even sounding insulted.

Sherlock had mostly not wanted him to come since he thought he didn't know about Sherlock being The Notesman. But since he did… what did it matter if he brought Lestrade with him?

"This is going to be dangerous," Sherlock said.

"I know that."

"You could die."

"I'm aware."

"And you still want to come?"

"Sherlock, just because I'm not in love with John doesn't mean I don't care enough to risk my life for him."

Sherlock felt warmer towards Lestrade in that moment than he ever had. Him being able to tolerate Sherlock was always nice, but that he cared that much about John was even better in Sherlock's mind. Someone who would risk their life for John was worth being around, in Sherlock's book.

"Fine, you can come. Just don't talk."

Lestrade, apparently taking Sherlock very seriously on that statement, didn't respond.

At first.

But then he said, "Wait, why're we walking further into campus? Who took John?"

"Professor Moriarty."

Sherlock heard a sharp intake of breath. "Wait, you mean J?!"

"Yes, I mean J."

So, the grand reveal has arrived. Biscuits/cookies go to Mickanella, Anitayvette94, thisismyotp, and Berylbatch for sending me their guesses and being correct. So congratulations!

So... pretty please review (27).