John felt relieved that Sherlock was safe. He's probably at his parents' house John thought. He sighed and started replying on the text Mycroft just sent. He had an idea that could fix everything. Well, he hoped.

Don't you have eyes everywhere in London? Can't you show Sherlock camera footage from outside the surgery, as proof that Jim was only 1 min inside. I truly hope you can help Mycroft, because I need your brother. –JW

After that, John took a hot shower. He leaned his head against the tile wall, letting the water cascade down his back and across his face. He could stay there for a long time, letting the water massage his body and work its way through the tension and sadness. He then reached for the shampoo, Sherlock's shampoo. He lathered his hair and rubbed it in, he then stuck his head under the water again and just let the water rinse his hair instead of making an effort himself. He loved and missed the scent.

He then got himself dressed in fresh clothes. He grabbed his phone and keys from the dinner table and lingered to the door. He checked his phone, being sure he didn't miss a text from Sherlock. But of course, no text. He sighed disappointingly and left the flat, stopping a cab, making his way to the surgery.

During the hours on the work, some colleagues asked John if he was doing alright. He just said he didn't sleep well. What wasn't really a lie. He did sleep badly.

When he finished it was half pas five. Finally John would be able to see Sherlock again. Finally. He missed that sheep so badly. Even though it was just a day ago, it felt like weeks. John didn't know how Sherlock would react. Will Sherlock ignore him, avoid eye contact during the two hours? Or will he jump in John's arm, saying it's alright while holding him tightly.

John entered the school and there he was. Ready to knock on that wooden door. John sighed, feeling tense, enthusiastic, sad, and hopeful. He knocked on the door, biting his bottom lip anxiously. John's hand moved to the doorknob and opened it, but froze as he heard an unknown voice.

"Come in." A woman said. John furrowed his brows and did what she said. He opened the door and peeked inside. "Hello, can I help you?" She asked politely, looking away from her magazine.

"Where is Mr. Holmes?" John asked hesitantly, looking around the classroom.

"Oh you are one of the students? Well unfortunately Mr. Holmes reported himself absent due the flu I've heard." She informed him with a lovely smile, thinking John wouldn't mind his absence since she knew that she was an attractive woman. But John didn't care the slightest. He growled inwardly, clenching his teeth before his expression changed to a disappointed, sad one. He nodded stiffly and left without a word. He can't believe this. His eyes started to tear up, but he refused to let tears escape his eyes. He was done with it. This needed to be fixed. He tugged his phone out of his trousers pocket furiously and sent two messages. One to Jim and then one to Sherlock.

Can we meet tonight? Or rather now. –JW

Going to meet Jim. I will fix this. –JW

John sent both messages and walked back home, not taking the cab for in case Jim would sent back, what he did immediately.

Meet me in the park, around the block. -Jim

That was fast, John thought as he frowned. He entered the park and scanned the place. He saw Jim sitting nonchalantly on a bench, eating a sandwich. The park was abandoned, birds chirping their last notes before the sun disappeared, which was soon. John shook his head, anger boiling, and rushed towards him.

"Who the hell are you?" He immediately blurted out as he approached Jim, scowling. At this, he received a text. John opened it and he couldn't believe what he saw. It's Sherlock.

Don't go, I believe you. I'm sorry –SH

Jim was laughing dryly, wiping his mouth with a tissue before speaking up.

"That's adorable." He chuckled as he saw John smiling brightly at his phone. "I will make something clear to you John." He said with a wicked grin, raising on his feet. "I'm not interested in you." He pointed out.

"What?" John replied, a wave of confusion crossed his face and his eyebrows knitted together.

"Do you really think, that someone like me will fall on someone so ordinary like you?" He asked, feeling amused with a high pitched laughter.

"Who the hell are you?" John snapped, his breathing speeding up. Jim sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Stop repeating sentences, it's boring." Jim shrugged, acting disappointed.

"What do you want?"

"Hurt Sherlock Holmes." He replied simply.

"Why." John said firmly. Jim just smirked simply, not bothering to reply and brought his little surprise in view. John gasped, backing away from Moriarty.

"No no no. you'll stay right here." Jim demanded, his voice high pitched, pointing the gun to John's chest. John ran a hand through his hair. He was desperately thinking how to get himself out of this.

"Leave him alone." A familiar voice said, approaching the two. John's eyes widened at the familiar voice and turned his head straight away. Sherlock was walking towards both of them, calmly. They made direct eye contact. Sherlock didn't see the gun yet. He didn't know how bad the situation was. He looked at John with twinkling eyes, glad to see his John back after a big misunderstanding.

"Sherlock." John said under his breath.

"Jo-" He stopped as he saw the gun pointed to John's chest. Sherlock's heart dropped into his stomach and he felt like he was going to vomit. "John are you alright?" He said rapidly, stepping to John.

"Ah, ah, ah," Moriarty scowled, pointing the gun at John again. "I have an itchy trigger finger, Sherlock. At any moment-"

"What do you want?" Sherlock's eyes darted back and forth between John, the gun and Moriarty.

"This couldn't end better." He sneered, swivelling the gun in his hand before holding it back firmly.

"End what." Sherlock snapped, not tearing his eyes away from John.

"Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock, You don't remember me, do you?"

"No." He retorted.

"Remember Sebastian Moran?" Sherlock drifted in his thoughts for ten seconds before he opened his eyes, making an 'aah' noise.

"Oh yes, the one I got in jail." He replied, feeling proud.

"You stole him away from me." Jim pointed out.

"Stole? He's not with me. He's in prison."

"It's been a year that you separated Seb and me. I've been following you for a year now. I never found your pressure point, until now." Jim said calmly, touching John's shoulder. John flinched at the touch.

"Leave John out of this." He demanded. Jim laughed and grabbed John by the collar and shoved him to the ground, causing Sherlock to take a step forward.

"Ah, ah," He said, pointing a finger. Jim then looked down, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. Meanwhile he did, Sherlock mouthed 'Mycroft' to John, meaning Mycroft was taking care of the situation. The only thing was, they needed to distract Jim before it's too late.