Chapter 3

This was torture.

He started to swing his legs back and forth as he sat on the cot in his cell. He was bored out of his mind.

"How did prisoners take this?" He thought as he laid on his back, looking up at the ceiling.

Everything that surrounded him was gray and boring. The bricks were gray, the ceiling was gray. Gray, gray, gray everywhere.

"No wonder prisoners are so mental," said Sherlock out loud to himself as he stood up once more, pacing the small amount of floor space in his cell.

Suddenly, the locks in the door clicked, and Lestrade stood there, staring at him.

"Come with me, Moriarty."

He roughly grabbed him by the arm, leading him down the hallway.

"I can see you've discovered who I used my one call on."

"That I have," said Lestrade as he continued leading him down the hallway.

"You don't approve?"

"What's your game? What are you hoping to accomplish while you're behind bars?"

"I'm merely trying to clear myself."

"Clear yourself?" He chuckled. "There is no way on this earth that you'll be able to clear yourself of all of the charges you have stacked against you."

"We'll just have to see about that."

Lestrade didn't say anything, merely leading Sherlock into one of the interrogation rooms and making him take a seat.

"I'll be watching," he stated, nodding his head toward the security cameras in the corner.

"Of course. I have nothing to hide," he replied, looking at Lestrade.

Lestrade rolled his eyes, and left the room. Sherlock brought his cuffed hands in front of him, and looked at how callused Moriarty's hands were, when he heard the door click open.

"You have ten minutes."

His heart picked up speed a bit as he turned in his seat to face his brother, Mycroft.

"You came."

"Of course. I said I would."

Mycroft walked in, watching him with hardened eyes. He took a seat across from Sherlock, looking right at him.

"You're wasting your time, James. You'd better start talking."

"You really care about Sherlock, don't you?"

"Of course. He's my brother." Mycroft looked straight on at him. "What have you done to him?"

"I haven't done anything to him, but I can say that he does require your assistance."

Mycroft clenched his jaw, anger coming into his eyes.

"Where is he? What have you done to him?"

"He's fine, for now, but he won't be for much longer."

"Where. Is. He?" asked Mycroft in a slow and measured voice.

He looked at him dead on; his heart pounding faster in his chest.

"Can't you tell where he is?"

Mycroft studied him closely.

"Stop being cryptic."

"I merely need you to solve this on your own."

He continued to study Sherlock. Sherlock sat there, his hands starting to pool up with sweat. He had to get Mycroft to see the truth without outright admitting it. That would be the only way that he would even remotely believe this unbelievable truth.

"You act like the answer is staring me straight in the face."

"Maybe it is."

He allowed his eyes to soften slightly, to show his brother everything he was feeling at the moment; his fear, his anxiety, his hopelessness.

He shook his head, looking away and up at one of the cameras in the room.

"Will you tell me where he is if I have these cameras shut off?"

He shook his head. He couldn't. Even if those cameras were darkened, he still couldn't admit the truth. His brother had to come to the conclusion himself.

"I can't."

"Why can't you?"

Mycroft turned back to face him.

"You only have two minutes left. Not much time to convince me."

"Mycroft..." His sentence trailed off. He couldn't form a sentence now without the desperation and fear making his voice wobble.

"Are you nervous?" asked Mycroft, shock passing across his face.

Instead of replying, he nodded his head a little. He was nervous. He couldn't keep his guard up anymore.

"Why are you nervous?"

He shrugged, his hands shaking slightly. He had to clamp them to keep himself steady.

Mycroft continued to study him.

"Play deductions, Mycroft," he said silently, bowing his head and looking down at his reflection on the table.

"Play deductions?"

He nodded, his head still bent down.

Mycroft stood up and started to pace, looking at Moriarty.

"One minute..." he said softer, studying him.

He started to bounce his leg up and down, trying to remain calm.

"Your leg is bouncing, you're clasping your hands together, you've already admitted that you're nervous..."

Mycroft paused in his walk, standing a foot or two away from Sherlock.

"But why could you be nervous? That's the real question at hand. You're never nervous."

"People change."

He crouched, looking at him, reaching out a hand so that Sherlock had to look into his eyes once more. Sherlock could feel himself tremble a bit more at Mycroft's touch, gulping to swallow the tears that threatened to leap into his eyes.

"You're scared..."

He cast his gaze off to the side, blinking to keep the tears in.

Mycroft reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder as he asked in a soft whisper, "Sherlock?"

At that, Sherlock couldn't hold it in anymore. He leaned into his brother, sobbing silently into his shoulder, his handcuffed hands in front of him.

Mycroft was startled by this, but soon wrapped his arms around him, rubbing his back gently.

"Sh...it's alright."

He just nodded his head, still leaning against him, trembling.

"What happened?"

"I...I don't know...he tricked me..."

"Okay, settle down a bit. Take a deep breath." He pulled back from him a bit, wiping away the tears on his cheeks with his thumbs. "Tell me exactly what happened."

"He had me seated in a chair and gave me this thing that I thought was a mobile. I...I placed it to my ear and the next thing I knew..." He trailed off, figuring that Mycroft would be able to fill in the blanks.

Mycroft just nodded his head, looking at him.

"So...you believe me?" His voice cracked. He cleared his throat to try to get rid of the hoarseness.

"As crazy as this does sound, and it does sound mighty crazy, yes. I believe you."

"Oh thank goodness."

He sighed with relief, looking at Mycroft with red rimmed eyes.

He gave him a slight smile, standing up.

"You're coming with me, alright? I'll get Lestrade to release you."

"How though? He'll think you're batty for letting me go."

"He doesn't know then?"

He shook his head.

"No, not yet."

He bit his lip, trying to think of a plan. He grabbed his arm, pulling you up to stand in front of him.

"Then just follow my lead, understand?"

Sherlock nodded.

"Thank you, brother."

He smiled at that, nodding.

"Of course. I've got your back."

He smiled, feeling happy that at least his brother believed him.

"Now bend your head down, and pretend to be guilty."

He nodded, doing exactly what Mycroft wanted him to do.

Mycroft opened the door of the interrogation room, and led him down the hallway. Suddenly, Lestrade appeared out from behind one of the doors.

"Where do you think you're going?" asked Lestrade, stopping them.

"He won't talk. I need to try a different method," said Mycroft. "I need you to release him into my custody."

He jerked his thumb behind his shoulder at the monitors which displayed the interrogation room they had just been in.

"I watched what happened. Of course I couldn't hear anything..."

"You must trust me, detective inspector," replied Mycroft.

Lestrade looked at Mycroft, before finally nodding.

"Fine. You may take him, but if he tries anything..."

"Yes, if he tries anything you may swoop in," responded Mycroft, finishing Lestrade's sentence. "He won't though. I'll be with him."

Lestrade nodded, going to undo his handcuffs. Once Sherlock was free, he sighed with relief, rubbing his wrists one at a time. He was extremely grateful.

Mycroft led him outside and helped him into the back of his vehicle. Once they were in motion, Sherlock gave Mycroft another grateful grin.

"Thank you."

He smiled, nodding.

"So, what are we going to do now?"

"Well," said Mycroft. "I can assume that if you're in Moriarty's body, that he is in yours, correct?"

He nodded.

"And I'm the only one who believes you?"

He nodded again.

"John doesn't?"

"I thought I should convince you first. I thought that you would be able to help me figure this situation out."

"Well, I'm flattered," he said, digging out his mobile. "And I may just have a plan to get John on our side."

"How?" asked Sherlock.

"Just wait and see," he replied with a grin.

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