Mycroft and Lestrade were walking up the long road, hungry and cold. They had been walking for what seemed like forever, and they knew they still had a long time before they'd get home. Suddenly, a black car pulled up beside them. Lestrade flinched, but Mycroft looked in as the driver rolled down the window, and saw it was one of Mycroft's own men.

Mycroft and Lestrade got into the back of the car, and told the driver to get back to the warehouse.

The driver nodded, and told them that there were 5 other vans filled with Mycroft's armed men following closely behind.

John was standing outside the warehouse, thinking of a plan. He wasn't going to listen to Sherlock, even though Sherlock was a genius. He under estimated John's abilities.

John slowly walked crept around the building. He knew that if he got caught sneaking around outside he would be shot dead, so he was extra careful.

He snuck up behind one of the

armed men, this one being the fartherest away and he had his back turned. With one swift motion of his arm, John smashed his arm into the mans neck. The man slumped to the ground, and John bent beside him and checked his pulse. He wasn't dead, just unconcious.

John grabbed the gun off of the man, and headed around the other side, to the next man. With his back pressed to the wall, John leaned around, and shot the next man in the foot. The guy jumped, and fell to the ground in agony, his gun falling to the ground, sliding across it over to John.

''Ta,'' John said with a cheeky smile as he picked up the other gun.

He walked up closer to the gunsman. ''Don't tell anyone, alright?''

The gunsman agreed; it was hard not to when he had a gun pointed to his head.

John headed back around to the front of the warehouse. He noticed a black car, that looked like one of Mycrofts, and five big black vans followed. John knew it had to be Mycroft and his men.

The car and vans pulled up metres away from the warehouse, and the men burst out of the cars, instantly beginning to shot at the other armed men who worked for Moriarty.

Mycroft and Lestrade ran around the outside of the havoc and over to John.

''Where is Sherlock?'' Mycroft asked John.

''He's in the warehouse. He thinks I left.''

''So what have you been doing?'' Lestrade asked.

John grinned as he held up the two large guns.

Mycroft and Lestrade smiled too.''Alright then. Let's get Sherlock and go home.''

Moriarty's men from inside the warehouse were now out, fighting Mycroft's men. Mycroft, Lestrade and John quickly went into the building, Lestrade taking one of John's guns while John had the other.

Sherlock was on the ground, and Moriarty was bent down beside him.

Moriarty looked up as he heard the footsteps approaching him.

''Ooh! What do we have here? Come back to safe the day?'' Moriarty asked mockingly as he stood up.

John rushed over to Sherlock and bent down beside him, wrapping his arms around Sherlock.

Sherlock looked up, tears in his eyes.

''John! I thought they shot you!'' He whispered.

''You under estimate me,'' John whispered back as he kissed Sherlock's forehead.

Sherlock felt safe with John's arms around him, even though there was still a pyschopath standing near them.

''Ok, enough of this. Come on, Sherlock,'' Moriarty said impatiently.

''Nope. No, sorry. Sherlock's not going with you. I will not allow it,'' John said.

Jim sighed. ''Oh, Johny boy. Leave while you still can.''

''I am not leaving without Sherlock,'' John said firmly and stubbornly.

Jim sighed, and produced a large gun from his back pocket.

Sherlock didn't have a chance to stop it from happening. The loud sound of a bullet tearing through the air made everyone freeze. John fell to the ground, his head smashing against the concrete ground as he did so.