Moriarty stared down at John's naked body with a mixture of lust and sadness. Carefully, Moriarty laid his naked body next to John's as he softly kissed John on the cheek and then he maneuvered his legs around John's waist pulling John closer to him so that when John opened his eyes in confusion, Moriarty snapped a picture of them both on his iPhone. John was still groggy so that when Moriarty held very still John yawned and went back to sleep. Moriarty waited until John's breathing became heavy once more before he slipped out from underneath John's prone body.

Moriarty's heart beat faster as he pulled out his iPhone and brought up his contact list. As his hand began to shake from excitement Moriarty punched contact SH and then he downloaded the photo of himself and John with the following message: SH: I no longer owe you. I own you for I possess your heart-John.

Moriarty laughed manically as he pushed the send button. "I haven't had a day this fantastic in a long time," Moriarty thought in satisfaction.

Sherlock had tried to curb his need for a cigarette, so that when his phone beeped alerting him that he had a message, he pulled up the message with relief. The relief was short lived for after Sherlock opened Moriarty's message he stood stock still. As his phone slipped from his fingers and clattered to the ground Sherlock leaned his head back struggling for control. Mary was the first to reach Sherlock's phone. She gasped as she downloaded the photo. Mary studied the photo for a moment and then handed the phone over to Mycroft. Mycroft raised an eyebrow and then commented, "The photo's obviously photo shopped." Mycroft hated the sound of his attempt at reassurance for he wasn't sure if the reassurance was for Sherlock, Mary, or both.

Mary took the phone from Mycroft and zoomed in on a section of the photo and examined it more closely. "This photo is definitely John," Mary said softly.

Mycroft sighed. "I didn't say that the person in the photo isn't John I'm saying that…"

Sherlock didn't let Mycroft continue speaking as he snatched the phone out of Mycroft's hand and shouted, "Brother dear, you are an idiot. The picture is real. See the window that is in the photo, well look at its reflection in the mirror above the bed, that same image is reflected in Moriarty's eyes. There is no way that reflection could have been photo shopped." Without another word Sherlock threw the phone over in a corner and stormed out of the room.

John sat in the bathtub soaking; however no amount of washing could make him feel clean. As the water turned from hot, to warm, to lukewarm, John reluctantly left the confines of the tub and got dressed and went to the kitchen where Moriarty was waiting for him. Without a word John sat down in a chair as Moriarty prepared him for shaving. John leaned his head back as Moriarty lathered his face with shaving cream.

"You know, John if you hadn't tried to end yourself I wouldn't have the dubious task of completing this little housekeeping chore for you." Moriarty whispered as he slowly ran a razor over John's stubble. John's hands were tied behind his back, so he held still and let his mind drift back to happier times. John smiled inwardly as he recalled the first time he had met Sherlock in a lab at St. Bart's Hospital. John furrowed his brows in concentration as he desperately fought to retain each detail from that day.

"John, are you listening to me? John?" Moriarty asked trying to keep his voice level.

"Yes," John snapped, angry at the intrusion of his retrospective of he and Sherlock's first meeting. As he looked over at Moriarty, John smiled smugly at the hurt look on Moriarty's face.

"I'm sorry, John," Moriarty said genuinely as he untied John's hands and led him over to a large sink so that he could wash John's hair.

Obediently John stuck his head under the warm water as Moriarty gently lathered John's hair with shampoo. After a few moments Moriarty ran his hands through John's hair to make sure it was rinsed thoroughly. Moriarty's motions felt so good that John couldn't help the chill bumps that made the hair on his arms prickle. It was with relief that John took a towel from Moriarty a rubbed his own hair dry.

Like an inmate with a prison schedule, John next went and sat down at the kitchen table and quietly ate the yogurt and fruit that Moriarty had laid out for him. Moriarty leaned forward and lightly stroked John's wrist, "John, I am picking up a vital document for my investigations. How would you like to go with me?"

John tried to hide his excitement at the thought of going out and so he smiled politely before he casually answered. "That sounds fine," John said as he looked down at the tracking device on his ankle.

Moriarty followed John's glance and then sighed, "John, you are so easy to read. I don't trust you enough to let you come out without the device. I'm sorry, John. I really am," Moriarty said as he paced back and forth through the kitchen. As John watched him pace he felt homesick for Sherlock. For many a time John had watched Sherlock pace in a similar manner.

Sherlock had finished his third cigarette as he paced the perimeter of his room at the safe house in Jerusalem. A soft tap at the door broke Sherlock's pattern as he stopped in irritation. "What is it?" Sherlock yelled as he threw open the door.

Mary stepped back a step or two with a plate of food in her hand. "I brought you something to eat." Mary said as she walked in Sherlock's room and set the tray down on a small table near Sherlock's bed. "Sherlock, you need to keep up your strength. I'm not exactly sure what that photo of John and Moriarty means, but I do know John. He is honest and loyal."

Sherlock laughed bitterly as he took another drag on his cigarette, "Yes, he certainly was honest and loyal with you Mary wasn't he?" Sherlock hissed as he stood in front of Mary. His face was distorted in anger, fear, and grief and as Mary looked down at the ground she reached out and patted Sherlock on the arm and then quietly left the room.

Even though John was technically still a prisoner he enjoyed the cab ride over to their destination. The sun was setting as John and Moriarty got out of the cab and walked towards the meeting place. John wondered where they were and as if Moriarty could read his mind, Moriarty said, "We are at the Garden of Gethsemane-the place where Jesus was supposed to have wept great tears of blood and where Judas betrayed him with a kiss." Moriarty looked into John's eyes and continued on," John, can you imagine being betrayed by one of the people you love most in this world with a kiss?" Moriarty asked as he took John's hand in his own. He then searched John's face for a moment and then sighed as he released John's hand. John frowned as he looked into the tearful depths of Moriarty's liquid brown eyes. There was no time for further contemplation though as a party of four men dressed in black approached them. As John noticed the heavy bulges under each man's jacket, he had no doubt that they were all heavily armed. Moriarty got up from the bench that he and John were sitting on and approached the men. Moriarty took out his phone, punched some data into it and showed it to the head of the party. "This is the amount we agreed upon, correct?" Moriarty asked and then handed the phone over for the man to inspect. The man nodded and handed the phone back to Moriarty. "Now, before I send this wire over to your bank, I want to see the document." Moriarty said as he took a step back.

John watched the proceedings with disinterest for even though he couldn't see it he knew the tracking device was beating waiting for him to make a move. The movement would be John's last for Moriarty had set the device to detonate if John crossed the parameters that Moriarty had programmed into the hateful tracker. As John watched Moriarty's shoulders tense, something wasn't right. John had been in enough situations like this one to know when a deal was going sour and as Moriarty began to argue, John knew for sure that the deal was going sour.

"Hey, that wasn't the deal," the man in front yelled as he took a step closer to Moriarty.

"You promised me a complete document, not a few useless pages," Moriarty shouted back.

In the blink of an eye one of the men pointed a gun at John, "Back up, or I splatter your friend's brains all over that fucking olive tree behind him and believe me there'll be no resurrecting him after I blow him away," the man said as he laughed at his own joke.

Moriarty's face turned a deathly shade of white and John could help thinking that this garden had seen a lot of violence in the last 2,000 years. "Well, I never thought I bite the dust in the Garden of Gethsemane," John thought as he passively waited for the bullet to end his physical existence. For a moment John thought that he just might try and save himself and then he thought cynically, "Why bother?"

As the man held the gun out to pull the trigger John faced his would be attacker with tired, wide blue eyes, as if to say, "It's okay, take me."

Sometimes something happens that is so shocking that it was never even a consideration of the observer, this was one of those times, for as the man pulled the trigger, Moriarty dived in front of John taking the full impact of the bullet.