A/n: This idea came to me and now it wont leave.. I don't know how it's going to turn out but I want to give it a go.

Pairings: Johnlock, Anderstrade (Only friendship)

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.

Warnings: Language.

Like with Desperation(My other fic) this will be angst.

They were in a room.

A room inside an old, derelict hospital to be precise.

"He said they would be here!"

Sherlock stared around the room, taking in everything, before turning back to Lestrade, "No one's been here in a while."

Lestrade cursed under his breath before turning to the others. He, Sherlock, John, Molly, Anderson and Donovan all came out here on his orders and now -

"So he lied?" John asked, leaning against one wall.

"It would seem so," Sherlock replied, "but why..?"

"Cause he likes playing games, maybe?"

Sherlock closed his eyes for a moment, "Yes.. he does, doesn't he? He loves playing games.."

Suddenly the door slammed shut and locked itself. John ran over and attempted to turn the handle but to no avail, the door was staying shut, for now.

Silence fell across the room.. The room itself wasn't large, and with six of them inside, it would soon get hot and uncomfortable. That's if they didn't die from lack of oxygen first.

"Can you smell that?" Molly wondered, wrinkling her nose slightly.

"Smell what?" Anderson stared at each of them in turn before moving towards Lestrade. "What?"

"Gas," Sherlock muttered, staring up at the ceiling now, "He's gassing us."

"He's going to kill us?"

Sherlock shook his head, "No.. It's sleeping gas."

The gas was colourless but the smell grew steadily stronger until - "Look out!"

Donovan was the first to fall, and John only just managed to catch her, before laying her on the floor gently. Everyone moved away from that spot - knowing that that must be where the gas was coming from - but they could only go so far before -

Molly fell next and Lestrade lunged for her just in time to stop her from hitting her head on the floor. He lay her next to Donovan and stood back.

His own eyes were starting to droop and he could feel himself falling when someone caught him and held onto him. He took one last look around the room and at Anderson before passing out.

Lestrade woke up to find himself in a cage.

He tried to stand but his legs wouldn't co-operate so he settled for sitting. The drug was still in his head, screaming at him to go back to sleep, but he ignored it. He wiped his eyes and looked around, his gaze landing on the others.

They were all there - apart from John and Anderson.

He heard a grunt and saw Sherlock rise slowly - before his legs gave out and he too settled for sitting. Lestrade crawled over to him, ignoring the rising panic, and sat beside him.

"What's going on?" He whispered, staring at Sherlock.

Sherlock didn't reply - Lestrade wasn't even sure if he heard him talk - instead his eyes rolled backwards slightly and he slumped to one side.

Someone had obviously given Sherlock something extra but he didn't know why. Feeling hopeless, he crawled over to Molly, who was curled into a tight ball in one corner. He checked her pulse and was relieved to find it was normal - She hadn't had extra drugs given to her.

Donovan was slumped against the bars, her head drooped at a strange angle and her hair fallen over her face. Lestrade crawled over to her, again checking the pulse and finding it to be completely normal.

He sat back and allowed his mind to assess the situation: Two missing, one drugged, three fine. What was going on and where were the others?

"I expect you're wondering why you're here."

John looked up. He was in another room - this time slightly larger, and he could see Anderson to his right. He tried to turn his head but found his movement limited. Looking down, he saw that he was chained to his chair with about five different chains. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Anderson was in the same situation.

He turned back to the voice, "No shit... This is how I spend every day.. Tied to a fucking chair."

"Now now, John.. Such language is not appreciated here."

"Oh, fuck you."

The next thing he knew, ice cold water was poured over his head, making him yelp out in shock. He shook his head furiously, attempting to dull the burning sensation, and gasped, "Dickhead."

"Now John, are you ever going to learn?"

John glared at the figure in the corner, but didn't reply.

"Good boy.. Now, if you want to get out alive, I want you to fight."

"Fight who?"

The voice laughed a soft laugh, and said, "Each other of course."

Lestrade was starting to panic now.

He had managed to stand up and was now pacing around the cage looking for a way out. There wasn't one. He couldn't even find the door. The bars were seamless.

Outside of the cage was a door but it had an electronic lock on it and was out of reach anyway. They were well and truly screwed. To make matters worse, no one else was awake, and the room was freezing. He knew the cold was keeping them asleep and hated whoever was doing this.

He should of known it was a trap, but he didn't. He was so eager to catch the bastard that he threw caution to the wind, and now, he felt like he was going to pay for it. Big time.