Hm, thanks to the reviewers~ my hat is off to you, I suppose. Anyhow, Johnny still hasn't made an appearance! For those of you who are like... who is this Erik kid? This is stupid! Where's John in this story! I'm impatient! Blah blah blah... be patient my dears, Erik will make his exit from the story, but he is a necessary evil. Hello plot device. Stick through and we'll get to the good stuff soon! Carry on!

Chapter 3-

Matthew paused at the front step of the cozy looking house, wiping his feet on the welcome mat nervously. This all felt unnervingly domestic for a kidnapping. It didn't help that he had never seen this Moriarty character. It also didn't help that this unconscious boy looked really freaking familiar. He hoped to God it was some twisted coincidence. Looking up from the boy's slack face, he raised a fist to knock quickly on the door. His palms were slicked, lips chapped, and vision blurred. How many times should he knock? He didn't want to seem overly presumptuous in front of his boss. What if-

His nervous ramblings were cut off by a quiet voice.

"Mr. Matthew Jones?"

He gulped, slowly looking down at the preteen, fist still hovering uncertainly in mid air. The boy's eyes were open now, piercing blue eyes way too old for his age.

"How do you know who the hell I am?" he hissed, going for outraged rather than the shocked surprise he felt. The boy's mouth quirked up in a creepy half smile.

"Why, you don't recognize me?" he asked smoothly. "I would have thought you would recognize your own boss… but then again, it looks as though you've moved on now." He looked pointedly towards the door, not even bothering to mask his disgust.

"I'm not following." Matthew replied dumbly, dropping the irate facade. He was too confused to be acting. How the hell did this little kid know him? Was this some kind of sick joke? It really wasn't funny. The boy ignored him.

"I was told you were good with computers. What are doing being employed as some second rate bodyguard?" Matthew's blood ran cold.

"Oh God…"

"You probably pictured me older. You should have stayed in the organization. Then we wouldn't have to be in this situation."

"Listen squirt, I don't know what you're playing at, I don't know how you know about my past or how you even know who I am. Because I'm pretty sure-"

"You killed everyone who was involved… everyone but me of course. For someone so adept at hacking into sensitive government files I would have thought you would be smarter." Matthew's face turned red as Erik continued. "Listen. We got you out of the government's grasp, and you ran out on us. I lost a lot people. Captured and tortured to save your sorry hide. Then, you killed everyone who knew about our transactions. Which so happens to be a total of seventeen people. You erased yourself from the records, and then hired yourself out to keep a low profile. Isn't that right Mr…. Charlie Montague, wasn't it?"

"Shit!" Matthew, or Charlie, almost dropped Erik right there. "Shit shit shit!"

"All we wanted was a couple of files and you got us into a lot of trouble Mr. Montague. I could give your right back to the government. You certainly deserve it…" Charlie swallowed angrily. This punk was just an adolescent; surely he could just kill him right now-

The boy reached up and grasped his chin hard.

"Listen you idiot. You kill me and you can be sure you'll be in a lot more trouble than you are now." Weirdly enough, Charlie believed him. He didn't know why, but there was something in the intense look in the boy's eyes that made him really regret being in this situation right now. Of course, his mobile chose this moment, the climax of this confrontation with this creepy little shit, to ring really shrilly. The boy rolled his eyes. Charlie's hand shook as he reached towards his pocket, the kid still awkwardly being carried in one arm. His hand was halted in its descent gently by Erik's foot.

"That's Moriarty. He's wondering what's taking you."

"Let me answer it then." Charlie grumbled grumpily. He was really pissed at how his day had turned.

"In a second. It still has a couple more rings to go. Listen. If you don't want me to turn you over to the British government, you'll do what I say. If not, I may pull some strings and get you a scheduled visit with Mr. Holmes' extraction team." Charlie shuddered violently. The boy frowned slightly and looked up and whispered into the criminal's ear. His words were lost among the deafening rings of the phone.

…

"What is taking him?" Moriarty paced angrily in the homey kitchen, looking comically out of place. His hand fidgeted up and down the handle of a kitchen knife, and his mobile was caught in between his shoulder and his ear. He stopped abruptly and hurtled the knife at the wall. It buried itself two inches deep into the cheap wallpaper. "Why hasn't he picked up?" Jim hung up, and then redialed. Peter had called him more than five minutes ago. It didn't take an idiot to know that it shouldn't take this long. He growled as he was sent to voicemail again. Suddenly, there was a quick professional rap at the door. Moriarty sighed and hung up, turning languidly towards the noise. He quietly made his way towards the door, pausing only to wrench the knife out of the wall. God knows he loved making a scene, why not indulge himself a bit? He opened the door with a lot more force than necessary.

"Why hello~" he said sweetly, hiding the knife behind his back. The man looked really stupid; he was going to enjoy this. "I assume you're here to deliver a package?" he sounded so innocent, but his intentions were clear as he sent a pointed look at the unconscious preteen in the brute's arms.

"Mr. Moriarty?" The man said monotonously.

"Speaking!" he grinned. This was too good.

"Er- here's the kid…"

"Why, thank-" mid sentence, Moriarty whipped out the knife from behind his back and stabbed it into the man's foot. "-you. Service was a bit slow though." The sod's eyes watered, but he didn't say anything. They never did. Boring. "Well, come in." Jim gave a long suffering sigh. He pointedly acted as though nothing happened. "Search him, and bring him to the basement. Zip ties are there already." The man, what was his name? Manny? Gave a swift nod and limped over to the stairs leading to the sound proof basement. It was like something from a fairytale. Jim took a moment to revel in the surreal feeling of living in a horror movie. He smirked.

…

As soon as Charlie made it down to the bottom of the stairs, Erik opened his eyes. He stared up at Charlie as he performed a cursory frisk, mostly for show. Wouldn't want to ruin the game this early…

Charlie pointedly ignored the half dozen knives he encountered on the boy's person. There were probably more of them too. This kid was pretty legit. The boy gestured subtly towards the belt he was wearing, and Charlie removed the gun stored there. The preteen nodded in assent. He put the gun on the table in the middle of the room, and then lifted the boy up and placed him in the uncomfortable metal chair. Erik's head lolled forward convincingly, the very picture of a perfectly unconscious individual. Charlie carefully tied his as directed by the boy earlier, then rubbed his face stressfully. He ruffled the boy's hair and retreated a couple steps, surveying his work. It looked convincing. The preteen gave a small nod. Charlie felt admiration rear up unbidden. He had to hand it to the kid, he had balls.

"Good luck kid." he said quietly, making his way back up the stairs, any animosity between them vanishing with every step he took. He could have been imagining it, but he thought he heard a quiet 'thank you' come from the depth of the dank basement. Thus Charlie Montague, notorious murderer and hacker, swiftly entered and then exited Erik's life in merely thirty minutes.

Don't forget to review fellow Sherlockians! Remember, I love you all, even if you hate me and my crappy OC. Be strong, the end is nigh?