--John's PoV--

We stood in front of the warehouse, Sherlock studying it cautiously. He had stopped me from going in and has been examining it for the past minute. "Sherlock, please tell me why we haven't gone in yet," I said, a bit annoyed. Gavin had told us to come over after telling us a very violent theroy, full of holes, and oddly enough, bombs and explosions.

"Somethings not right..." Sherlock muttered, squinting at the rusty exterior of the giant building.

"Mind telling me what it is?"

"I have a hunch," he said, marching to the door and opening it widely. "Let's go see if I'm right, John."

I rolled my eyes as he ducked into the building, rushing after him. As soon as I rushed in, I was greeted by an icy plunge and a wall of darkness, all I could see at that moment was Sherlock's flashlight, which flashed on after a moment. I turned on my own and followed him. In the middle of the room, a large machine was beginning to be built, most likely for money laundering, but no one was building it at the moment. I scanned the shelves. It was full of scattered things. A jar of bone dust sat next to me, next to that a jar with a small toy, next to that a jar with a phone, next to that a jar of glowing white goop, so on and so forth. Sherlock looked unfazed and rushed to the middle of the building and started searching for something.

I followed him quietly, wondering what he was looking for. We stood, searching for something, scanning everything for about thirty seconds before a shuffling noise sounded in the back. We spun around. Sherlock grabbed my shoulder, "John, if I'm right somethings about to happen. Stay close to me."

Gavin came out in a shaggy brown coat. It was long and baggy, going down his upper leg through stopping halfway. He looked uncomfortable in it, sweating and fidgeting. It looked oddly familiar. I realized where it was from and sucked in a breath. Gavin frowned, definitely not pleased. He opened it slightly, revealing a bomb strapped to his chest and after a moment, small red dot hovered over it. He shrugged his shoulders slightly as Sherlock glanced around.

"Wait, this is fine, right?" I mumbled to Sherlock, "he can't die."

"He's in between us and the exit. If we run, he blows up, we go with him." Sherlock said, "now where's Moriarty."

Gavin groaned, "you're supposed to be a genius, someone just do something to get me out of this coat." He whined, scowling.

"It's freezing in here," I stated.

"Not to me, it's not, Doctor Watson." He said the last part slightly mockingly, "seriously, you call yourselves smart? I've had a BOMB strapped to my chest the whole phone call, you really didn't think there were that many bombs in my theories, did you?"

"You were trying to send a warning message..." I started.

"I was trying to get help." He muttered through clenched teeth. The sound of a phone ringing echoed through the room. Gavin rolled his eyes and pulled a phone out of his coat pocket, groaning after seeing the number, before setting it to his ear. There was a pause. He hung up. "We have to wait about thirty minutes. None of you, the criminal especially, are allowed to talk or move." He said this monochromatically as if bored or fed up. We froze. I desperately wanted to know what we were waiting for, but I kept my mouth shut.

After about thirty minutes of nothing but standing in a warehouse with only darkness, (we attempted to look around using the flashlights, but Gavin got another call to tell us to knock it off.) following that, a third call was given, telling us we could move again. At this time, shouting could be heard beyond the door. Several insults, shouting, names. Suddenly, a humanoid figure was shoved in and the door was slammed. We froze. They stumbled to their feet, recovering themselves before running to the metal door and banging on it after trying the handle. He kicked a nearby wall several times, muttering under his breath as loudly as possible. He made a sound between a scream and a groan before slamming his hands into the door again, "LET ME OUT!" He noticed us, scrambling back. One of his eyes were a glowing red.

"Nice for you to join us, Casket." Gavin trailed again, obviously done with everything.

"N-not Casket. I'm not Casket." Ghost mumbled, eyes wide, "what kind of brother ARE you? They've got Johnny! You should be HELPING me get out!"

"I'm the type of person with a bomb on my chest, so shut up and go along with this." Gavin paused from the script to hiss at the man. His phone rang again. Gavin rolled his eyes and picked it up. He waited a bit.

Ghost meanwhile, looked ready to scream his head off, Sherlock was in quiet thought, and I was perplexed. Why would Moriarty pull us all here, and why leave out Johnny Toast? It was confusing.

Gavin put the phone down as if to read texts, "Hello, acquaintances."

Ghost looked ready to punch him as he continued, "I would like to make a deal."

"..." Ghost finally put two and two together and paled, "Tell them to give me back my partner before I kick down the door and stab them all in the face." He growled.

"Whats the deal, a person with brain cells may ask, I would like you four to work with me for your freedom and friends." he glanced up at me before looking back, "Oh. But first, John." I straightened, "I'm going to need you to step forward a bit."

I shuffled forward slightly, "Thank you. Already, you're doing this right."

"You honestly think we'll help you for our freedom?" I asked.

"Well..." Gavin mumbled.

"Um..." Sherlock agreed. Sure he's a good person, but boredom affects him terribly.

Ghost mumbled something about doing so if he were locked in the same room as... spooks and column?

"Really?" no answer, "Really? You all disappoint me," I said.

"You haven't met them!" Ghost pointed out, loudly. They're always going on and on about the stupidest of things, they act like they have NO brain in their head and neither have ANY proper experience!"

"Ghost, go stand with Sherlock and John," Gavin said, wanting this to be over with.

"You have nothing to make me!"

"They still have Johnny."

"They can't kill Toast!"

"One, that also my last name, two, they can still keep him in captivity, brainwash him, torture him, of the likes. Now get over there before you cost us, and possibly my brother, our actual lives."

Ghost walked over with no hesitation.

"Good." Gavin was reading from the phone again, "now Sherlock, take the syringe off the ground in front of you, draw Ghost's blood, and inject it into the first person you see when we release you onto the streets." he looked disgusted.

"What," I said, eyes wide.

"He's trying to find where the respawns come from..." Sherlock mumbled.

"Yeah, I can tell, but what the heck!?"

Ghost started shuffling away from John as Gavin stated, "if you don't we'll shoot John." He squinted, "He added one of those squiggly lines after it, what exactly do those even mean..?" He groaned and continued. ,It won't be fatal, of course, but I'm sure you won't enjoy talking to a comatose patient."

Sherlock froze, turning to Ghost, then back to the syringe on the ground, then to me. His eyes trailed to my back, a spot I couldn't see, and That's when I noticed Gavin no longer had a red dot on his chest. He picked up the syringe and marched over to Ghost, who backed away from him. Sherlock broke into a jog, grabbed him by the arm, pulled up the sleeve and shoved the needle into the skin. Ghost inhaled from his teeth, pulling his arm away defensively when he was done. I watched, open mouthed.

"Look, Gavin, jus-st ASK him where Johnny is?" Ghost said, "ist the least he can do after having this guy s-stab me in the arm!" Sherlock hid the syringe in a pocket and strolled to the door.

Gavin shook his head, "he doesn't answer me when I ask that."

The door opened and Sherlock looked to me. I wanted to say something helpful and encouraging, but what was there to say? we were in a terrible situation, and we knew it. He stepped outside and left me with the lunatics, and I hoped he wouldn't do anything stupid.