Lestrade kept examining the ear piece until Sheock swiped it from him. He looked at it and held it in his palm. Then, he crushed it. His eyes glanced at John's and he shook his head.

"I don't believe you. You're losing your-"

Moriarty hit John in the head with the gun, causing a large cut to appear on the side of his head. Lestrade gripped his gun, glaring at Moriarty.

"Let him go, or I will shoot you," Lestrade threatened.

Sherlock stared at John as he felt dazed from Moriarty's strike. John had been lying to him for who knows how long.

"That's why you didn't want me to go out and visit Molly. You were trying to cover for Moriarty," Sherlock realized.

John hung his head. There was no denying it. He had helped a criminal. Lestrade glanced at Sherlock as he lowered his gun.

"Sherlock..." Lestrade muttered.

"Let's go, Gavin."

Lestrade frowned. "It's Gre-"

"Let's go!"

John shook his head and managed to spit the apple from his mouth. "Sherlock, no! I helped him but I was only trying to keep you safe. If I didn't help him, he would've killed you and me."

Sherlock put his gun away and shoved Lestrade aside. "You would keep such a thing from me? I could've helped you, John. How could you be so thick?"

Confused, Lestrade said, "Sherlock, what are you saying? John had no choice. He was just-"

"He chose not to tell me!" Sherlock snapped.

John felt a pain in his chest. "Sherlock, if there was anything I could take back-"

Moriarty chuckled and aimed his gun at Lesrrade and Sherlock. "I suggest you two leave before anything gets too ugly."

Lestrade shook his head and glanced at John. "We're not leaving without him."

Sherlock said nothing but kept a cold stare on John. John pleaded with his eyes but he was ignored. Finally, Moriarty began shooting. Lestrade pushed Sherlock away and they both ran for it. Quickly, Lestrade blindly fired back behind his back.

John stumbled down and covered his head as bullets flew above him. Remembering his training, he crawled across the ground, trying to get away from the madness. When the shooting stopped, Moriarty slammed his foot onto John's back, causing him to remain still. He turned John onto his back and aimed his gun at his forehead.

"Go ahead. Do it! I'd rather die than help you do anything!" John shouted.

"Don't wish for death too soon, John. That comes later," Moriarty smirked.

He gave a whistle and two men grabbed John and dragged him away. He fought against them, struggling for his life.

"Help! Somebody, help! Sherlock! Lestrade, help!" John shouted.

They shoved John into a van and the four men drove away. He didn't care if he lived or died, John fought back. The back of the van had two doors to open it. He shoved one of the goons against them, causing him to fall out and o to the pavement as the van drove on.

As John watched the goon roll away, the other goon grabbed him from behind and got him in a headlock. John couldn't breathe. He fought back and threw punches at the goon's arm. The strong goon dragged him down.

John lay on his back with his head hanging out from the back of the van. He could hear the tires brushing against the pavement behind his head. The goon grbbaed his throat and pressed his head back, towards the pavement.

Moriarty saw this and stared down at John. "Now, while you're down there, John, listen to me carefully. You work for me now and you'll have no say in the matter, obviously!"

John grunted as he tried to get up. "I...won't ever work for you!"

Moriarty whined. "You're so rude, John! But, I'm afraid you don't have a choice. Get him up."

The goon grabbed John and got him to stand up. He held John's arms and pinned them behind his back. Exhausted, John gave in. Moriarty smiled in victory at the doctor and grabbed his chin.

"It's not so bad, my dear. You'll probably enjoy yourself."

John quickly opened his mouth and bit Moriarty's hand. He yelped back in pain and laughed a bit. He looked at John and chuckled.

"You like to play dirty, do you? I can play along. But, first, I think you need a timeout, naughty boy!"

John was dragged away to a corner and tied up. His wrists were bound behind him and his arms were tied to his sides. The goon sat him down and moved aside as Moriarty knelt down beside the doctor.

He held his gun a d pressed it roughly against John's cut on his head. With a cry of pain from John, Moriarty smiled.

"Loyalty just doesn't get you anywhere, does it? Shame. Sherlock really meant a lot to you, didn't he? But, I think we both know you meant more to him."

"He'll get over me," John said, coldly.

Moriarty raised both eyebrows. "I don't doubt that. He has his...addiction waiting for him."

With that, Moriarty stood up and left John in horror. Sherlock. Would he really go back to...the drugs? If he had an overdose, John wouldn't be there. What if no one was there?

A/N: NO SHERLOCK! NOT THE DRUGS! Thanks for the reviews! Hope to update soon!