TheDarkestShinobi: Enjoy! Review!

Start:

"I need you to bring a car around front and drop of a package to Mycroft Holmes." David nods on the other side of the phone and double checks which car before hanging up. Behind John, Angel is fidgeting nervously.

"Angel," John turns, "go get someone from downstairs and have them help you take the body to the front. You two will be going with David to drop it off."

"Yes, sir." Angel stands there until John waves him away.

"Are you supposed to be hiding?" he says a moment later, turning to the side and looking into a corner.

"You wouldn't be able to find me if I was." The shadows say back as Moran steps forward. John turns fully and tilts his head to the side. Moran fights the urge to laugh. Moriarty was so right about this one.

"It's Mycroft." Moran offers and John rights his head again. Moran keeps the silence until he feels awkward. "Jim needs you to pay him another visit." John nods once.

"He say about what?" Moran shook his head

"Not to me."

"Hmm, any idea?" Moran shakes his head again but John knows he's lying. From the other side of a camera, Jim is grinning. John shakes his head.

"Don't lie to me." He raises his eyebrows as he leans his head forward and Jim wants to start a slow clap. Moran blinks twice as he draws his head back in shock.

"Something to do with the dead body you just had delivered to his house." John looks up and away for a brief second before shrugging and turning away.

"Thanks." He leaves right after.

…

"Ah, jeeze. Kevin," is all David has to say when he sees the package. Once it's loaded into the car he pulls away. "What did he do?" Angel looks out the window before answering.

"He didn't do his job." David nods, that really the only reason.

"Moran." He turns the car.

"No." Angel shakes his head and David looks into the rearview mirror as the other looks at Angel.

"It was John." David brings his eyes back to the road.

"Watson?" He questions, because he really can't believe it. Not the fun guy who goes boxing with him.

"Yeah, Watson."

Then again, a lot of things with big M would start to click into place.

Getting to Mycroft was easy; leaving the body to be found was easier, but going back to face Watson, knowing his buddy was the new Moran? That would be the hardest part.

…

If this one takes you more than an hour I would be disappointed. -JW

Sherlock opens picture to see a piece of chocolate cake with vanilla frosting and rainbow sprinkles. His lips come up slightly as he shakes his head and pockets the phone. From his desk, Lestrade puts down his coffee and leans forward.

"What? Who's next?"

"Mycroft." Lestrade's face fell as he stood. Sherlock is much slower to move and Lestrade gives him that privacy. "Bring Anderson." Sherlock instructs as he stands.

Mycroft is very much alive and very annoyed when they arrive at the club. Lestrade looks more relieved than Sherlock does. Sherlock glares with eyes as cold as ice and Mycroft ignores it. The others in the sitting room glare, but none of them say a word as Mycroft leads them to his room in the back.

Mycroft hands Sherlock the case file as he walks in the door. Sherlock passes it off to Anderson.

"Where is the body?" He sneers. Mycroft makes a face.

"It was in my bed, if you must know, but it should be at St. Barts by now. One of Molly's I believe." Sherlock turns around and walks out muttering under his breath.

"Useless." Anderson looks up confused and Lestrade sighs.

"Still?" he asks and Mycroft nods. "So what now?"

"I suggest you follow him." Mycroft tilts his head and the other two leave without further delay. In the car Anderson stares at the pictures. Sherlock leaves the car as soon as it stops but Anderson and Lestrade walk in together.

There is only 15 minutes left in that hour, Lestrade hopes John wasn't serious about the time limit.

The man has a bullet exactly in the middle of his forehead.

"He wasn't shot execution style." Lestrade inputs as he stands next to Sherlock. "Anderson says the shooter was at least three feet away, likely more." Molly stands patiently by the man's feet, her lips curled into half a smile as she watches the two.

"Six feet." Sherlock corrects as he pulls out his phone. Anderson smirks from his position by the door and moves closer to the body.

"Who could shoot a man directly between the eyes half a room away?" Molly's eyes travel to the cadaver's head.

"The same one who shot a man straight through the heart a building away." Sherlock answers.

"A cabbie?" Lestrade questions before nodding to himself. "John" he answers his own question. Sherlock looks away; the very name seems like a curse. Molly frowns and watches Sherlock. Anderson opens his mouth to comment before shutting it.

It was you. –SH

Knew it wouldn't take you long –JW

Sherlock pulls his head back and blinks twice.

Sherlock is a monster. He can feel the anger rising, but not towards John, not even towards Moriarty. His anger and hate for himself were palpable in the air. He knew who John was, what he was addicted too. He knew what he needed. He knew Moriarty was out there trying to hurt them. He still kicked John out. He let John fly into Moriarty's web. No. It was a bit worse than that wasn't it? He pushed him into Moriarty's path. Of course Moriarty would swoop in and take John. What better thrill for a man who was addicted to danger? What better way to make him burn?

He was burning; it was his own actions that lit the flame. He is burning and he can't see a way out, a way over this. Sherlock looks at the body once again and glances to the clothes he had Molly lay out.

I want to know why you killed one of Moriarty's men –SH

If you must know, he killed a baby –JW

Worse than the possibility of John being stuck with Moriarty, being kidnapped and forced to act against his will was the possibility that John chose this. John wants this is a thought that gnawed at the back of his head. He can imagine John's voice talking to him now. I've got your attention now, don't I? Not so boring anymore, right? Sherlock taps his phone against the table once before he is typing again.

The woman was pregnant. So it was an accident, her death? I wasn't too late. -SH

You were. –JW

He can still hear John's voice. It echoes in his mind palace.

I bet you wish you didn't kick me out now, huh?

Sherlock feels his hand start to tremble. Molly seems to be the only one that notices. He can tell by her fingers that she is debating whether or not she should say something. He knows she won't. Sherlock goes to reply but the phone is ringing and he has a new location for Lestrade.

TDS: I'm off to a dinner party that's sure to be boring, so send me some love in reviews or Johnlock or Johniarty prompts please!