Want to bet on it? (John/Moriarty)

Sherlock kissed John back and felt himself getting warm. He wondered for a moment if they were having something here, or if John was just trying to make up for the pain Jim had caused him, feeling guilty for it.

"Hm." Sherlock said after hearing what Jim had told. "Looks like he will be coming after me. He'll try and steal you away." Sherlock said, it was pretty obvious. "I can take some more physical pain, since he is clearly referring to the friendly warning he gave me."

John felt the colour drain from his face, the mere idea Jim could be serious made him nauseous. "Try to steal me away? It doesn't make any sense, Sherlock... we were together... 15 years ago and not even for that long... why would he go through all that trouble just to get me back?" he protested, shaking his head.

He looked at him worriedly. "I won't let anything happen to you," he heard himself say, his cheeks turning red when he realized what he had just said. It was true though, he would protect Sherlock with his life.
"He won't ever touch you again."

"Think about it John. Why would he show up exactly 15 years later? Why would he beat me up before we even had a thing? Come on John, open your eyes! You're being blinded by sentiment. This man is insane, he'd do anything to have you." Sherlock explained, with a certain sense of worry though.

"I appreciate that John." He said as John made a promise to keep Sherlock safe. "But you need to think about yourself as well. He might use you to get to me. He might do anything, to both of us. He's a psychopath if you want my word on it."

He's a psychopath...

John felt his breathing fail him, Sherlock couldn't be serious, Jim would never hurt them seriously. Evidence was against him though, Sherlock was broken up there in front of him.
"You think he planned everything?" he stammered, his heart throbbing painfully in his chest.
Had he done this?
Was Jim so wound up because of him?

"Maybe I should go to him willingly... at least he wouldn't try to hurt you..." he thought out loud. How could he fix this? He couldn't possibly fight Jim, he knew he'd never be able to pull the trigger.

"YesN john I think he has planned everything. Why else would he be saying so? He isn't the type for empty threads. He has gone insane waiting for you." Sherlock replied as he drank a bit of his tea. He wasn't scared for himself though, more for John. Jim wouldn't rest until he has john without Sherlock near.

"I think going to him no is no option either. He won't give you a chance to return."

"I can't believe he would just keep me away from everyone and everything, I... I don't know... I guess I don't know him any more..." he muttered, sipping his tea, for the first time the hot liquid running down his throat did not calm him.
He felt guilty.
It was all his fault.
And he was going to have to find a way to fix this.

"Let's just concentrate on getting you to heal... I will speak to Lestrade about it..." he muttered, nodding.
He didn't want to fight Jim, but he could only pray the other would just get over the whole thing and forget about revenge.

Sherlock frowned at John. He had warned him for this and he hated to say he told him so, but he had to. "I told you, he might have been a serial killer for all you know. But don't blame yourself, John. I shouldn't have been there in the first place." He tried to sound reassuring, but he knew John would keep blaming himself.

John was right, now all Sherlock should focus on was getting better and they could deal with everything later on. He agreed on informing Lestrade. They couldn't be careful enough on this case.

The next few days Sherlock spent on the sofa, completely replying on John for everything. He didn't like being this dependent at all. He wanted to move around, to do his own things, to go on cases. This was slowly driving him insane, it was dull and dreadful. And poor John was taking the blame for it, Sherlock was grumpy a lot of the time and John offered everything to help him around.

About 2 weeks later Sherlock was able to do everything on his own again. His ribs were still broken, but he was able to move and things were starting to heal. It felt good to be able to attach his violin to his chin and play a song, it felt even better to make his own cups of tea and to even walk alone to his bedroom.

John and Sherlock grew pretty close in the mean time. They sneaked kisses and were cuddly a lot of the time. Sherlock's feelings had become a lot stronger and he couldn't imagine living without John anymore. But the danger of Moriarty was still watching from a far. They didn't talk about it, but they both were aware of it.

So it now had been 3 weeks since the accident and Sherlock found himself on the kitchen table. He was busy on some experiment, nothing special, just to keep himself distracted from his boredom. John had gone back to his work at the surgery after taking 10 days off, so Sherlock had to fill up his days now, if not for his own sake then for the sake of their walls.

Soon enough he noticed he had run out of fingernails. He needed them in order to make this work. He sighed, not really in the mood to go all the way to St. Barts to meet up with Molly. But he had nothing better to do, so slowly he moved over to grab his coat and scarf.

--

Jim was bitter jealous and heartbroken. He couldn't wait to start his master plan on getting John back. This might have been the greatest plan he had ever put together, he even felt proud about it. But he couldn't go to action just yet, he first needed Sherlock to be able to move again. He needed John and Sherlock separated again so he could easily get to them both.

The weeks passed by slowly and Jim had people covering his Baker Street boys with every thing they did. He had people tracing their phones, following them around, checking every little thing they did. Jim knew it all, he had to in order to make this work. After a few weeks he got informed that John had gone back to work. Perfect, he had to struck now. He couldn't wait any longer.

Jim had 2 man following Sherlock as he made his way over to the hospital. As he turned into the back allay he always took as a short cut, they made their move. One of them threw himself in front of Sherlock to make him slow down, while the other quickly injected a drug to keep Sherlock out for at least a few hours.

Sherlock was taken away to an old mansion on the other side of town. He was held in living room, put on a chair where he was only just kept balanced as he was still asleep. cameras all around, visible. He But that wasn't just enough, Jim had took it a just a step further. On Sherlock's chest he had strapped a bomb. Jim only had to push one button to light Sherlock, and the whole building up.

To get to John, Jim would use a cabbie. Of course the driver was working for Jim, but John would already been knocked out by the time he could even think about that. Everything had turned out the way Jim planned. John was passed out and on his way to another flat just outside the city, while Sherlock was slowly waking up inside of the mansion.

This was perfect, this was how he wanted things to go.

The pain in the back of his head was the first thing John felt when he came to.
Then there was the feeling of a warm bed under him, its smell, the colour of the duvet, it felt oddly familiar.

He started, his shoulder was hurting him again, and he realized by the rattling and the pain around his wrists that he was tied to the headboard.

He struggled as he opened his eyes to take in his surroundings, but it was useless, they were too tight.

He knew exactly where he was.
He knew exactly who had brought him there.
And his heart throbbed painfully in his chest, overwhelmed by the memories this place reminded him of.

"JIM!" he shouted, tears stinging his eyes already.
Why?
Why did he do this?

Sherlock opened his eyes as soon as his mind was able to sense things again. The last thing he remembered was walking over to the hospital. Than a huge blank space and now this. He didn't recognize the place, but he did felt something heavy around his chest.

Sherlock glanced down. A bomb? Inside he was rather panicking, but on the outside he tried to remain as cold as possible.

"Jim." He hissed.

--

Jim waited Just outside the door of his old bedroom. John could be waking up any time now and as soon as he heard his name, he opened the door.

"Ahh, John. Goodmorning, goodmorning. It's been a while eh? Since you last woke up in this bed." He said with an insane smile spread over his lips.

John tried to move when Jim came in, anger pumping in his veins, but the restraints made him buckle back against the bed, helpless.
"Jesus Jim, what are you doing? You could have just... invited me over," he hissed, his tone sarcastic.

He lifted his hands a bit, the cuffs clinking. "Is that how you treat your old friends?" he continued, determined to be strong. "You used to like my hands when they were able to move freely..."

Jim shook his head. "ssh shh Darling, don't get worked up yet." He said, his voice higher then it had been before. "I did try to invite you over. But you declined, Remember?" His eyes narrowed slightly as he thought back at the phonecall they had.

He though scoffed loud. "I don't treat my old friends like this, no. So you should feel special. Special treatment for Doctor John Watson. You look good, tied to my bed."

"Oh I did, didn't I? I wonder why, I was clearly wrong thinking you were a dangerous psychopath," he snapped angrily, trying to struggle against the cuffs again, uselessly.

God, he hated himself for the chill of arousal that crawled up his spine at the rest of Jim's words. He couldn't deny being attracted to Jim even now, but there was no way in hell he would let himself feel it.
"What do you want? Rejection clearly doesn't do you well, now, does it?"

Jim rolled his eyes at John's helpless idea of fighting against the cuffs. He moved closer, running his finger over the other's chest, up to his chin and briefly touching his lips.

Then Jim bowed over, bringing his own lips close to John's ear.

"I want you."

John's eyes widened as he snapped his head to the side, trying to move away from Jim's touch. God, he was shivering all over. Just because of that burning touch along his chest.
"You are crazy," he whimpered, his voice sounding more desperate than he meant it to.

"It's ridiculous... you are obsessed... by me? It doesn't make any sense!" he protested, shaking his head again. "I can't be with you Jim, you clearly aren't the same guy I fell in love with 15 years ago..."

Jim shook his head again. He could see John shiver and it gave him the right thrills to carry on. It told him his actions were not pointless and they were justified.

"I waited 15 years. I planned on getting you back for all that time. Did you really thought one person could get in my way?" He frowned.

"You underestimated me."

John looked at him with determination in his eyes.
"Our love is dead," he snapped. (But without limit, like the surface of the moon)

"What do you think? That you can kidnap me and keep me here and that would be enough to make me want to be with you? It's ridiculous!" he muttered, shaking his head. "Don't you see it? It's not about Sherlock... We are different people now, we don't fit together any more, and maybe we never did..." his voice lowering.

"Please Jim..."

Jim once more shook his head. He didn't want to hear John say those words. Their love wasn't dead, it was just at a low point. But Jim was determined on lifting it up to heaven from this point on.

"If Sherlock didn't show up that night nothing would have happened. We would now spend our second date somewhere in a nice restaurant. You see? It's ALL about Sherlock." His voice was low, but still strangely high.

"Please Jim?" He scoffed. "Please what? Let me go and suck Sherlock again? He has a bruise, he needs a doctor?" His tone changed dramatically. "No, John. I'm never letting you go again."

John rolled his eyes. "Jesus, do you even hear yourself? You are just bloody jealous... and of what? Of a guy you think you still love even though you've been apart for 15 years. It's ridiculous!"

He looked at Jim, his eyes cold, he was trying very hard to pull this through. "If you hadn't beaten Sherlock up we would have been on our second date as well, why do you blame Sherlock for something you have done?"

He tried to move his hands. "You're never letting me go again? You are just going to keep me here like some sort of toy? Is that your plan?" he snapped. "Is that what your love is worth? You care for me so much that you will have me caged for the rest of my life? Or is it that you want to kill me?"

John's words were only triggering him more. He had to have John, for the rest of his life. They could be happy far away from Sherlock. They were meant to be.

"I am not going to keep you." He then said in a normal way. "I'll give you a choice, that's only fair, isn't it?" He smiled slightly, softly touching John's cheek.

He then walked over to the tv in the corner of his room. it was perfectly visible to John. Slowly his finger moved to turn it on and within a few seconds Sherlock appeared on it.

"Live streaming." He said proud, as if he had just accomplished something new in the world of technology.

"No[Only admins are allowed to see this link] Which shall it be, Johnny dear?"

The words shocked John, and when he felt the other's finger on his cheek he realized it wasn't all there was to this.
Of course.
Jim was making true of his promises.

Nothing prepared John for what appeared on the screen though, his eyes widened and moved restlessly on the image of his friend with a bomb tied to his chest.
He tried to struggle again, this time desperate.
"Sherlock!" he shouted, even though he knew his friend couldn't hear him.

"This is not fair Jim! Leave him alone! This is between you and me!" he pleaded, his heart throbbing in his chest, no, he couldn't let anyone hurt Sherlock, no.

This is not happening...

Jim laughed at John's reaction and switched his gaze between the television and John. But then his eyes lingered on John for a long while.

"It's quite simple John. It's either you agreeing you'll stay with me, or Sherlock getting Blown away."

He walked over to John, lowering his head until they were inches apart. "Or should I do more to convince you?" Jim softly pressed his lips on John's for a few seconds before pulling away with a slight smile.

John's eye widened once again as Jim explained the conditions to Sherlock's release. He couldn't believe it was happening, horror filled his limbs.
If he saved Sherlock now, he was never going to see him again. But it wasn't like he could say no.

The kiss made anger crawl in his vision, Jim smile making him want to throttle him.
"How can you do /this/ to me?" He snapped, his voice a growl. "You are /sick/."
He felt tears run down his cheeks, "You can't make me love you this way," he whimpered, bowing his head, he felt his heart throb and break in his chest.

"You left me no choice." Jim whimpered. "I tried to win you back but I guess you just needed this extra little push to be convinced." He said, his lips still close to John's.

"I can prove you still love me. I can make you relive the feelings you had. I know they're still in there." He whispered, his lips softly brushing against John's. "Come on. We'll have it good, you and me."

"So you decided to take all the choices away from me? You know very well that I can't let Sherlock die!" he snapped, tears streaking down his cheeks. "Let him go, for God's sake!" he pleaded, he couldn't look at Sherlock like that, it was tearing him apart.

It was true, even through the anger, even through the hurt, he still felt his heart beat for Jim right there, when he looked into his eyes.
He would never admit it though.
He couldn't let Jim play with his life and think it was okay because of what they had.
Suddenly he leaned ahead and bit on the other man's lip.
He pulled away angrily.
"I loved you when you didn't beat people up for nothing, when you didn't strap them to bombs!" he snapped.

"I'm not taking all choices away, you have a choice." He said, pulling away a bit and cupping John's face between his hands. "John, don't cry." his thumbs moved to wipe some of the tears away. "I'll make you happy again." He whispered soft, once more placing his lips on the other's.

"I don't beat them up for nothing, I had a reason to beat him up. I have a reason to strap him to that bomb. You see, I can always let him go now, he wouldn't be harmed. If you rather have me keeping him down with a lot of violence..."