TheDarkestShinobi: Wow, this is going to be a long story.

The simple note on his bed told him to report to a room down the hall and then the note there sent him to a large open space. There are 30 people in the room that are blindfolded, gagged and tied up. Jim is sitting on a chair, drinking tea and eating a biscuit when John walks in. John ignores the people in blindfolds after a quick glance tells him that none of them are injured.

"What's this then?" Jim opens his hand and turns it over to motion the food.

"Lunch," he answers as he pours John another cup up tea. John glances back at the others and sets his shoulders before eating.

"You're not letting me go." He announces as soon as he's 100% sure.

"I may." Jim responds as he shrugs. "I'm giving you a choice." He is, not a fair one, but it would be boring if he played fair. This way, when anyone asked, John could say he chose to stay and would not be lying.

"What are they for?" John has made the leap, it was simple. He turns to take them in again and Jim almost winces at how John couldn't ignore them, he had gotten better, but maybe he did need more than a month, less boring then.

"Well, that depends on your answer." John goes to rub his forehead and Jim slaps his hand. John leans back in his seat.

"Control your emotions, John; you will keep a calm exterior even with me." John didn't need to hear threats to comply and he nods once and curtly.

The first two times John hadn't been immediately obedient, he watched as an innocent suffered for it; a prisoner getting an extra beating and a murder being extra vicious. The third time John had pleaded to keep the other safe. He almost fell to his knees but the trigger had been pulled. There was no forth time.

"The question." John demands as Jim sips his tea. Jim looks down at the cup before back up and is happy to note John's face would look blank to most.

"My, my, John-"

"The question." John interrupts firmly. There was no hint of anger in his voice.

"Follow me." He does.

Jim leads him to the other room and John fights the urge to cross his arms.

"Are you staying to continue to work for me?" John tilts his head to the side thinking.

"What are those 30 people for?" he asks instead and Jim nods.

"Depends on your answer." John knew; he knew that something bad would happen if he said no. He needs to say yes. He fights the urge to clench his fist or bit his lips and sigh. He looks around the room as he counts to 10.

"If I say no," Jim grimaces and John doesn't need to ask further.

"If I say yes" he tries again and Jim shrugs.

"It's less boring" he answers and John is thankful for his military training as his body remains still.

"I really don't have a choice then." He almost sighs, almost. Damn this was hard. Jim holds out his hands in a placating manner.

"You can walk out the door now and I will leave Sherlock and you alone." John swallows. "But if you say yes, you will not deny me anything."

"If I said yes," John's finger taps his leg, "how long am I saying yes to?"

Jim does not say anything, and John replays the conversation in his head. Jim lets the pieces fall together in John's mind and watches John come to a realization.

"Oh," he lets out almost a full minute later. He sits in the nearest chair and says it again. Jim watches; hands clasped behind his back. John closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Jim lets a side of his mouth quirk up briefly.

"Are you staying to continue to work for me?"

"Yes." John doesn't hesitate in his answer. He is sentencing himself for who knows how long and to do what god only knows. His leans forward and laces his fingers together.

"You're time with me is done technically," Jim continues "the bombing has been stopped, Mycroft has been informed. I will carry out no threat against the British Nation."

"Yes." He repeats his answer firmly with a nod. His life for 30 others, he is already dead to Sherlock likely. Mycroft looked at him with revolt last time.

"You will not hesitate to do anything I tell you to. Your time is voluntary." He would have to kill, to maim and to hurt.

"Yes."

He'd do it for 31 people.

…

Sherlock walks outside to get better service, still it takes a few seconds for the picture to load and when it does it pops up on the screen. Lestrade notices that Sherlock has stopped leaving and walks over.

There is a picture of John.

Sherlock is not sure what to make of it at first. He is smiling and laughing and someone else had taken the picture. John is in jeans and a red T-shirt leaning forward in his chair. He's got a piece of something in his hand. It clicks.

A game piece.

From Life.

Sherlock lets out a long breath and puts the phone in his pocket. Lestrade asks him what that was.

"Moriarty played a game last year, using people as bait to get us to solve murders."

"Yeah, so?" Lestrade uses his hands to pull back his coat as they settled on his hips. Sherlock looks away.

"It's John's turn."

"Ah, Christ." Lestrade runs his hand through the fuzz on his head. Sherlock stands impossibly still. "When do you think it will start?"

"No telling." Sherlock watched a bird land on the rooftop of an adjacent building. "but it will be soon."

Exactly 12 hours later, on another case, Sherlock receives the picture. It is of John's chair. Sherlock knows he needs to head there immediately and drops the arm he had been inspecting.

"Sherlock?" He doesn't respond, looking to see if the picture can tell him anything. "It's happening now, isn't it?"

"Yes, I have to go." Lestrade reaches for his cell as he motions for Sherlock to follow him.

Normally, Sherlock would tell the DI that driving and talking on the phone was against the law, but he just looks out the window as Lestrade tells Dimmock to move his rear.

John was behind this, that's what the first picture meant. The second picture is another jab.

Hurry up

John hits send before turning back to the woman.

"Sherlock's smart," he says as he fastens the straps. She's got enough explosives around her midsection to take out this whole building. "He should solve this soon enough and then you can go back home."

She wants to ask him why he's doing this, he doesn't seem to be like the others, but the fact that he could strap her into a bomb so easily stills her tongue. He sighs before he gets up and wipes his hands on his jeans. She takes him in, the muscles, the scars, his face. If she survived she'd bring at least one person down. It would have to be him.

…

Earlier

"My phone?" John questions even though he already knows the answer. He picks it up from where it stopped after Jim's initial push.

"I played a game with Sherlock, five rounds." Jim starts.

"I remember, you strapped me to a bomb." John inputs.

"It is your turn to play." He continues; John picks up his phone and uses it to tap the table.

"There are thirty people in that room, and you are going to give Sherlock pictures or clues to get him to solve 30 murders. The file is on your bed and each one is numbered."

"I don't think like you." John replied, although it wasn't in a defensive tone.

"Learn to." Jim instructed. "You have 30 days to get him to solve all 30, each time he does, you can give him a present." John nodded very slowly. "You give him a time limit for each one and at the end of 30 days I kill the ones he didn't get."

John looked away. He couldn't do this. He didn't know how to give clues, he could barely follow them.

Harry Wiles and Clara Osborn.

John taps his phone against the table to think.

He had no clue how to get Sherlock to figure out the intertwining bodies.

Think. Think. His time was already running out. Sherlock had to have information to solve. He hit the phone on the table again and it slipped out of his hands. He reached over and held it, turning it over to make sure he didn't damage it.

Oh.

Oh

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