The water was dark and the cold gnawed at his flesh as he swam towards John. He reached out his hand and grabbed the doctor's arm, pulling him to the surface. They both gasped for breath as John coughed through the gag.

Sherlock quickly untied it and John's hands. John choked and wiped his face from the water. He held onto Sherlock as they climbed back onto the dock.

John laid down and tried to catch his breath. Quickly, Sherlock placed his coat over John and shushed him. "I need you to breathe, John."

"I am breathing..." He replied.

They heard several men heading their way with Mycroft leading them. He knelt down by Sherlock and gasped when he saw John.

"An ambulance is on the way. Hold on there, John. You'll be alright. You're safe now," Mycroft assured him.

Shivering, John nodded and gave a silent whisper, "Thank you."

The ambulance arrived and took the three gentleman to the hospital. John was given several blankets and was under tight care. Sherlock sat by his bed and clenched his fists.

"I will make him pay for this. I swear, John."

John shook his head, weakly. "No...just don't."

Sherlock furrowed his brow. "I won't let him get away with this."

"You can't always win, Sherlock," John moaned.

The detective stood up and stormed out of the room. He paced the floor, thinking. John closed his eyes and tried to rest. His leg wasn't broken, thankfully. It was severely bruised so he would be given his walking stick again. He didn't care. He was simply happy to be alive.

Sherlock sighed deeply and ran a hand through his curly hair. He would find Moriarty and get even. He nearly got John killed. Mycroft put a hand on his brother's shoulder and tried to calm him.

"You should go home, Sherlock. It's been a rough week for the both of you. I'll stay and keep an eye on John as he-"

Sherlock shook his head and insisted that he stay. "I'm staying here."

Mycroft looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Sherlock."

The curly haired detective wouldn't argue. He was staying by his friend's side until he was ready to go home. Meanwhile, John laid in bed as the nurse turned out the lights.

He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. The only problem was that he couldn't. His head ache had gotten worse and he felt sore in his leg. He remembered how many times Moriarty had kicked it and bruised it. Shaking his head, he tried not to think on such things. He turned to his side with a groan and sighed. He awoke when he felt someone stroking his hair. His eyes opened but it was too dark to see who it was. When his eyes got used to the dark room, he tried to scream when a hand covered his mouth. The man shushed him and leaned close to his face.

"Good to see you recovering, Johnny boy," Moriarty whispered.

It had to be a nightmare. This couldn't be real. John remained still and kept his eyes on Moriarty.

"I have some things that I want Sherlock to do. Of course, I'll be needing a little help from you. You're always a big help, John."

With that, Moriarty placed a cloth over John's face and pressed it hard. John tried to gold his breath for he could tell it had been dabbed with a strange-smelling liquid. However, he had to breathe eventually.

The smell was sour and sickly sweet. His eyes felt heavy and his mind began to go blank. Then, everything went black and cold.

When his eyes opened, he was on his back on the cold ground. No, too cold to be the ground. John hissed from pain as he slowly sat up. He was on ice. But, how? It was merely beginning to be autumn.

He had on his jacket but still felt cold. His hands shivered and felt numb. It was pitch black and couldn't see a thing. Suddenly, a door opened and light poured into the room. John felt his chest tighten when he realized where he was.

He was in a freezer. Meat hung on hooks and there was ice on the walls. How was he alive? He merely had on the tan jumper he liked to wear and his jacket. Moriarty flicked a switch and the room lit up.

Frightened, John tried to scoot away but his leg stung with pain. Moriarty smiled as he chewed gum.

"I'd go easy on that leg, Johnny. Isn't looking too good," he warned with a smile.

John gave him a cold stare. "Why did you let me go if you were just going to kidnap me again?"

Moriarty circled around John smiling, as if this were all a joke. "The first time was just a bit of fun, really. This time, things are more serious, Johnny. I've seen how far Sherlock will go to save you. Now, we'll use that to our advantage."

Moriarty grabbed a long hook and stared at it as John shook his head. "I'm not helping you. You might as well kill me. Too many people have died and been hurt because of you. I won't be a part of anymore deaths."

"Come on, John. I think you've learned from Sherlock. I feel the same way he does when it comes to being bored," Moriarty grinned as he placed the hook under John's chin.

John stared at him but said nothing.

Removing the hook, Moriarty yawned. "I should be off. I'll turn the temperature up so you'll be comfortable and sleep well. Have a lovely night, my dear!"

The door shut and the light was turned off. John sat alone in cold and pure darkness. He brought his legs to his chest and gave a small sob as he shivered madly.

Then, he softly whispered, "Somebody, please...help me."