John opened his eyes and blinked in the early morning light. He didn't know why he thought it was early morning, it could just as easily be late evening. It just felt like morning. The soldier was suddenly aware of the weights resting down on him. He struggled to be free, remembering the white light and the loud sound and Mycroft.

'Hush Johnny, it's ok.' An Irish voice cooed from his side.

'Jim?' He asked, turning his head. The criminal smiled brightly and cupped his face in an almost sweet way.

'John.' A relieved sigh from his other side. The doctor turned and smiled softly.

'Sherlock.' He replied. A strange thought fluttered into his mind.

'Am I naked?' He questioned.

'Yes.' Was the unanimous reply. John nodded, his entire body throbbed with a dull ache. He felt both men against him.

'Are you both naked?' He asked.

'Yes.' John nodded, well he had expected that reply and he was really toasty warm at that moment, though he could remember being deathly cold.

'Where am I?' Now his saviours-which was a scary thought in itself-had grown weary of his questioning.

'You're in Sherlock's bed in 221b Baker Street. We executed the perfect jail break, nobody died, and we got you back here. You were so cold we decided to warm you up a bit. Shirley wouldn't take you to hospital because Big Brother would know that you were out then. Is that enough?' Moriarty snapped. John smiled and snuggled into him, pressing back into Sherlock at the same time.

'Yes.' He answered sleepily. 'This is enough.'

Sherlock looked at his enemy with a look of almost horror. Moriarty's face mirrored his expression.

'He's not right in the head. Once he wakes up properly, he'll go back to how he was.' The detective said, not truly believing what he said. The criminal had recovered from the initial shock and was now beginning to entertain the idea of sleeping with John at the same time as his rival.

'We're all wrong in the head, Shirley.' He murmured seductively. 'This way you could be sure that I'm not murdering your precious and I will spend more time with him.'

'No. No. This was a one off. I am not sharing a bed with you again. I don't care, it will not happen again.' Sherlock replied firmly, wrapping his arms around the doctors waist and shuffling so he was pressed up completely to the shorter males' back, signalling that the conversation was over. John sighed happily in his sleep and clutched at the consulting criminal, drawing him in closer.

When John woke up again, he sat up and stretched then turned two look at his two geniuses, who stared at him. He smiled with a faint blush on his cheeks and got out of the bed, searching the cupboard for clothes. He was aware that both consultants were watching him and the blush refused to disappear.

'Are you two going to get dressed?' He asked. Sherlock slipped out of the bed and retrieved his clothes from where they fell on the floor. Jim pouted but did the same. John found a set of clothes and slipped into them. He was about to go to the kitchen for tea when a cup was thrust into his hands.

'Drink up, Johnny Boy. You'll feel better.' Moriarty said, a small quirk of a smile on his lips. The criminal expected the doctor to look suspiciously at the cup, to turn it down and make his own, but John just sipped it. It was as if he didn't care anymore. It took all his strength to keep the look of shock off his face. Sherlock seemed just as surprised by this, being behind John he didn't have to keep control of his expression.

Life continued, though all three men expected a visit from Mycroft Holmes on any given day. John no longer went out on his own, making sure that he always had someone beside him, even if it was only Mrs Hudson. Sherlock refused to let the man out of his sight, apart from when Moriarty had him. The detective had a worrying amount of trust with the criminal, but it was well placed trust as he knew that the psychopath would kill anyone who came near his John. Apart from Mycroft, that was left for Sherlock to deal with, as a sort of present. The detective would love to tear his brother limb by limb and nail each piece to a different building around London but Mummy would like that. She always taught him that family was sacred. It was for her sake that the bastard was still breathing.

The doctor went into a sort of panic every time the temperature dropped by a couple of degrees, he always wore jumpers to try and cover up this. He blamed them for his sweating while under the attack and yet refused to take them off. A strange act but in his mind, it was far better to be perceived as strange than cracking up. He kept himself under control for the masses, only the geniuses could tell when he was panicking. Neither brought it up though, they just made sure to keep an eye on him to make sure that the panic attacks never got any worse. John had spent most of his time with Sherlock suffering from panic attacks, only they manifested themselves in nightmares. After all, the attacks weren't the largest problem they faced. Now the soldier wouldn't sleep. Even when he had Sherlock snuggled up with him, he couldn't do it. His eyelids refused to close and he stared at the ceiling until a reasonable time in the morning when he would get up and dress as if he had spent the night sleeping like normal. The detective worried constantly, deciding to decline all cases until his partner was better. When Jim came round to claim the man for his day, he found the same problem. Only he tried to sort of the problem a different way, by slipping a sleeping pill into the doctors tea.

'Shirley, I think you better get round here.' He stated over the phone. The detective was out the door the moment he heard the screaming in the background.

John was still screaming when Sherlock reached the small house. He burst in and followed the sound up to the bedroom. Moriarty sat on the end of the bed, the soldier tossed and turned under the covers all the while emitting the shrill shrieking.

'What did you do?' The detective hissed. Jim stared at him.

'I gave him a sleeping draft, he needed to sleep.' Moriarty answered. Sherlock couldn't really say anything, he'd been planning to do the same thing.

'I think I know why he didn't want to sleep anymore.' The taller male stated, moving towards the bed. His enemy nodded, mirroring his movements.

'And now he can't wake up from it.' Both men moved towards the doctor and slipped under the covers. They grabbed the doctor carefully and held him down, muttering softly to try and calm the man down. John relaxed almost instantly, as soon as he was able to tell that two men were with him. The geniuses stared at each other.

'Shit.' Sherlock cursed.

Moriarty pawed at John's skin. It seemed that the doctor could only sleep when he had both of his partners with him. A worrying thought for most but Jim didn't see how it was a bad thing. Now that Sherlock knew he was needed, the man would be forced to let him stay with them. At least over night. The detective scowled at him.

'No.' He growled.

'So you don't want your precious Johnny to ever sleep again?' Moriarty asked.

'I will get him help and he will stop this.' Sherlock answered darkly. Jim chuckled.

'And you really think that he will agree to this?' He asked The consulting detective sighed. No. John would never agree to such a thing. The psychopath smiled wildly, knowing that he was going to get what he wanted. There was no other way to solve this problem.

'I'll make sure I have some clothes over at the flat. And some pyjamas.' He stated happily. Sherlock gritted his teeth. His enemy rolled his eyes.

'Cheer up, Shirley, it's not like we're going to be fucking him at the same time so what have you got to worry about?'

'I heard that.' The doctor's muffled voice called. He sat up and punched Moriarty in the cheek.

'How dare you drug me you bastard.' The soldier snarled before composing himself and turning to Sherlock. 'I'm sorry. I think we both knew I was going to go insane at some point. The fact that I've kept myself until now is a miracle. It's fine, really. I'm sure I can get past the nightmares eventually.' Sherlock stopped him from speaking.

'Moriarty is moving in. Properly.' He stated, not sounding to happy with the sentence but firm in the belief that he was going to go through with it.

'Wait. What?' The doctor asked. Jim wrapped his arms around the doctors' waist, kissing the back of his neck.

'You need to sleep, Johnny. Did you really think he wouldn't allow it? He worked with me to get you back, after all.' The criminal explained. John nodded and reached for the detective. Sherlock allowed himself to be pulled in.

'God, when did life get so complicated?' He asked with his head in the taller males chest. Sherlock chuckled.

'It started when you attracted the attentions of two geniuses.' He replied. A phone beeped and Moriarty flicked out his phone with one hand still wrapped around the doctor.

'And it seems that I have something which needs to be taken care of. I'll meet you two back at the flat.' The consulting criminal stated, slipping his arm free and moving away to take care of whatever problem he had.

Back at 221b, John sat in his chair with a scolding cup of tea and the TV on, though it wasn't being watched. Sherlock lay on his sofa, watching the doctor carefully.

'He won't get you, John. I will never let him near you again.' The detective stated firmly. His flatmate nodded, but was still tense.

'He knows where we live,Sherlock. I never thought about it before but what if he pops in, or anyone else for that matter? Moriarty is going to be living under our roof. The Napoleon of crime in our house. What if we get found out?' The doctor asked. Sherlock smiled and stroked the blond's hair gently.

'Remember that we've killed as well John, I don't think we're in a prison cell just yet. We won't be found out, I can promise you that. Though I can't promise that the criminal activities will stop.' John mulled over what had been said then smiled brightly, looking the most relaxed he had been since the whole problem started. Sherlock kept his hands around his partner possessively, allowing his smile to falter now that John was no longer looking at him. They weren't out of the woods yet. They weren't even close.

The End

AN- Woah now! Hold your stones and various blunt objects. There will be a sequel to this. In fact, I've already started it. Please don't kill me just yet.

Thanks for the reviews and I hope you enjoyed it, even if you all hate me now.

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