TheDarkestShinobi: Hey guys! Hope you enjoy the chapter, got a bit of Molly in, so I hope it is IC. Review!

Molly knows that walk; she has heard it coming down the hall here hundreds of times over the years. She can even tell, by the timing between footsteps, that Sherlock is eager, well eager or angry, but he's never been angry before. She doesn't even look up from her microscope as he comes in. She jots down the bacteria name, because she's finally identified it, and then looks up. She takes a step back involuntarily at the look in his eyes.

He's angry. Why would he be angry?

He takes two long quick steps towards her, his face locked in hot anger and disgust and her mind searches for anything she could have done to receive this look. He lets out an angry breath as he reaches her and she trusts him, she does, but she is scared.

"Sherlock?" She questions as she grabs the table to steady herself.

"Were you in on it too?" He accuses and she opens her eyes wider as she tilts her head. Confusion.

"On convincing me that John was dead." He shakes his head, hair flaring. "I have always trusted you," he makes that sound so terrible "I never questioned you and I never would have."

"Convincing?" her voice is high and fearful. "It was John." Now there is pain in her voice as well. "It was John here, I-" She shifts, her knees seeming to give out for a second. "I even went to the funeral." She looks as if she's about to cry. She can't stand that look from him. Sherlock knows she's not lying.

"John is alive and well." Well wasn't the right word. Sherlock retreats slightly, but the anger doesn't completely fade away. "I see not everyone has betrayed me." He looks away from her as a thought occurs before looking back to her. She's different than her normal eagerness and nervousness with him. He watches her bristle with anger and then feels the sting of impact against his cheek as she slaps him. That was unexpected, although justifiable.

"Molly-" he starts

"No, Sherlock." Interesting, Molly has never been angry at him before, no matter what he's done to her. She's scolding him now. "I have always been here." She continues and now she is crying as well. "I have always been open and honest and I've done everything you've ever asked of me." Her eyes are bright with tears and he knows he needs to fix this. It had been a kiss on the cheek at Christmas. "How dare you think that I" she cuts off as Sherlock hugs her. "would…" but the words die on her lips as she closes her eyes and leans her head on his chest. Her thoughts fade as well and her lips come up in a small smile. She stops crying and her anger dissipates. As soon as Sherlock deems it safe, he holds her at arm's length again.

"Once again Molly, I have to apologize to you. It's just that Lestrade, Mycroft and John" he trails off not wanting to say anymore and she understands. She always does. She'll always be there for him to use and they both know that.

"What happened?" She asks and he tells her everything, because he can trust her just as he always has. She nods the entire time taking everything in. She doesn't question him or doubt him for an instant and when he finishes she gazes up at him. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to find him." John wouldn't do this to him on purpose, he couldn't. "No doubt Moriarty has something over him." Because it was the perfect way to hurt him, John's betrayal, Lestrade's nonchalance and his brother's direct hand in the matter. She nods again, smiling before frowning and settling into an awkward expression that seems to always be on her face around him. She looks away before looking back and locking eyes with him.

"Is there anything you need?" She pleads, she wants to help. "Anything I can do?"

"No." He says as he turns around and leaves and Molly watches him with a storm of emotion brewing beneath her surface.

…

John paced back and forth in the room. Jim, who was still requiring John to call him Jim, hadn't sent anyone in need of medical attention his way in a week. He had refused to eat, drink, or partake in any activities with "the guys." That simply wasn't an option. He had denied them at first, then they stopped asking. He was just Moriarty's new doctor to them. He didn't know if he wanted them to know he was just a prisoner and that he wanted out as soon as possible.

He wondered if Sherlock had figured it out yet. Maybe Sherlock did and was working this all out in his mysterious and clever ways. Maybe a better case came along and stole Sherlock's attention. Maybe Sherlock thought it all to be true, and had abandoned him here. No, Sherlock wouldn't. If he did, would John no longer be deemed important? Could Sherlock have deleted him?

You are the heart of him.

John did an about face and continued to pace. His hands itched to do something. He had done some of his own individual workouts before but that wasn't something he did often or even liked to do. He was also still sore from the last one. The military days of constant soreness and pain were long gone and he didn't want to repeat it unnecessarily. About face. He needed to find something to do before Jim found out he was bored. He had killed for England before, even killed the English for England, but no matter what anyone said, killing others via earpiece instruction was killing for Moriarty and he absolutely refused.

About face. A refusal wasn't something he could give the madman. He sighed. He hoped his team was okay. He hoped they got a new doctor, one that would keep them alive when they couldn't keep themselves and each other safe. He hoped Sherlock was safe. He hoped Sherlock hadn't been hurt too deeply by the debacle on the roof. He closed his eyes and he was back there again.

He had hated Moriarty in that moment, forget strapping him to a bomb, forget the kidnapping and the series of murders; he hated him for making him do that to Sherlock. He hated Mycroft for dragging him into it, for letting him believe he was needed on the front. He hated himself as soon as Sherlock's name left his lips because he knew how much he would hurt the other. He hadn't much choice. Sherlock would have been killed. The poison would have been released; the plane bombed. About face. He sighed and rubbed his face

He hated Sherlock for believing him.

John knew that had it been the other way around, had Moriarty tried to slander Sherlock, it wouldn't have worked. John would never doubt the other; he didn't trust easy but when he did it was wholeheartedly, so to be doubted hurt.

The door opens and John turns to face one of Moriarty's men. Tall man, easily over six feet tall and muscular; he has no facial hair and a short hair-cut that matched his. He has brown hair and brown eyes, and was just a shade darker than Sherlock. He also has a bag slung over his shoulders and another in his hand.

"John, uh-well the boys are heading to the gym…" he trails off hearing something behind him. He turns his head out "Wait just a god damned minute!" he shouts into the hallway. He turns back to John with a smile. He holds the bag out to John as an invitation, which John debates taking. John looks down to it. He should say no, should deny their offer like he has done before but he feels his hands twitching and realizes he needs to do something.

Bored. He tried to ignore the voice in his head. Bang Bored. Bored!

He lets out a small smile as he shrugs and walked forward. He hates these men too; what they did, but even more than that he hates that they don't look the part. He knows that it wasn't obvious, but he hadn't expected to find likable people here; people who watched the telly and played rugby and had trouble with their credit cards every once in a while. They seemed like very normal people.

The duffle bag is his; the clothes inside exactly his size. He entertains the thought of asking how they know, but does he really want to know? He thinks of Jim holding his suit. No, best to be kept in the dark.

The car ride is short and full of laughter; John doesn't partake in much, but can't help but feel their friendship. They are supposed to be evil and bitter and cold, but they act like his boys back in Afghanistan, ready to enjoy life together while they still have it. John rolls his shoulders as he notices the car turning and soon enough they arrive at the gym.

It's a bright place and the others inside greet them; John is introduced and finds himself unwillingly happy to be out and about again. He's even thankful to the men with him for taking him out, for still trying to include him.

David, the one who held the bag out to him, even helps him put on the gloves and doesn't complain a bit when John smashes his face in in the ring. John likes the idea of beating the snot out of Moriarty's men. He listens as they tell him why that was an illegal move and what he's allowed to do and then he lets his frustration out in a much more productive way

Moriarty smirks from where he's watching, because this is all going so well.

TDS: Thoughts?