A/N I'm going to jinx this by saying it, but I've been doing pretty well with daily updates lately, haven't I?

Thanks to MapleleafCameo, 666BloodyHell666, and linguisticRenegade

Disclaimer I don't own Sherlock or any associated characters, events, etc.

LXVI. Traps

"Don't come," John implores, his voice faint over the poor phone line. Sherlock's fingers tighten over the mobile in his hand, knuckles going stark white as the plastic cuts fiercely into his palm.

"Tell me where you are."

"I—no, Sherlock, please, please. You know this is a trap—they aren't even trying to disguise it!" His voice is growing desperate, strained, and he sounds only a couple of steps away from tears. "They have a plan, they're going to hurt you, you—you're smarter than this, you stupid genius, don't do this to yourself."

"John." He speaks in a low, steady voice, staring straight ahead out the window of the flat, his shoulders and spine impeccably straight. "I'm not going to let them hurt you. I'm not going to let them kill you. I'm not going to let you do anything to you. Tell me where you are so that I can come. I'm smarter than them, you know that. I can get us out."

"No—don't risk it, for God's sake, it's not worth it."

"Of course it's worth it, don't you start being ridiculous. I can't let you stay in danger, John, do you understand that? Tell me you understand that."

"I can get why you'd think that," John allows, "but… I can't agree, okay? You have to give it up. If I was any other hostage—hell, even if I was Lestrade or Molly, you'd let it go, wouldn't you? You'd call the police in if you knew it was out of your range… even you can manage to do that, get over your ego once in a while—" His voice is split by what could be a sob just as easily as a laugh, and Sherlock feels a rough sort of stab in his chest, so fierce and real that he reaches up, runs his hand over the shirt tightly buttoned there.

"I'm going to come, and I don't care if it's a trap, do you understand that?"

"I'm fine, Sherlock, please. I'll be absolutely fine if you'll just leave me be, alright? Whatever they do to me… it will hurt me less than if you come, I promise. If they hurt you, I… just…"

"Nice try." Sherlock ran the edge of his tongue over his lower lip. "I'm going to trace this call. Shouldn't take more than a couple of minutes, and then I'll be there as soon as I can, depending on how far away it is."

"Don't do this! Please don't do this, you're worth more than this! The world can't afford to lose you over something as trivial as me, don't you realize that?"

"I could hardly care less about the world," he murmurs. "I don't allow people to take what belongs to me."

"Sherlock!"

He presses the end call button firmly, clenching his teeth together and raising a hand to press against his forehead, eyes squeezed shut.

I'm sorry, John. Can't you see that I don't have a choice?