The room was dark, like a storm at night, and was only lit by the faint glow of a candle. The light flickered in and out of an invisible line of reality. A particular criminal mastermind sat at an old desk in the corner of the room. He needed to be able to see everything from his spot. All was quiet and dark, except for the haunting glow reflecting off his face. He frowned, and got up, to begin pacing. Back and forth he walked, contemplating what to do next. He had captured Sherlock. Easy. He had tortured Sherlock. Easy. What to do next, not easy. Totally not easy. Moriarty hated to use such simple wording in his thoughts, but there was no other way to describe this. Not easy.

"Let me see."

The kindness in the old woman's voice, and the softness in her eyes was enough to convince Sherlock. He held out his foot, and sighed once more.

Sherlock's foot had a gash in it, about the length of a bumblebee. It was swollen around the cut.

Mrs. Hudson was no john, but she was herself. She was strong, and even when she seemed scared, she could be brave. So she mustered up the courage, and began taking off her socks.

Sherlock's face drew itself up in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"You're the detective, figure it out."

Sherlock became silent. Mrs. Hudson put one of her socks over the wound.

"Now I know they are dirty, but it'll have to do I'm afraid."

Sherlock shook his head.

"It's fine. Stopping the blood is what we need to worry about right now."

Silence filled the cell as the landlady dabbed at the blood. The detectives mind was frantic. He knew Mrs. Hudson could not have made a plan, that was preposterous. He knew that John and Lestrade, whilst they were probably looking for him, were incompetent when it came to things like these. He had a plan, it was just a problematic one. It depended on many things, whether or not his nemesis was proud enough to overlook the fact that Sherlock was playing dumb, and whether or not Mrs. Hudson could run like hell. He almost smiled, thinking of asking her the question. Sherlock could already see the look on her face.

John stared hard at his phone. The screen showed the time, moving impossibly fast. Or it could be that Lestrade was slow. Either way, John Watson was bad at waiting. He stood there. His foot tapped the ground, repetitively, and began to annoy him. But he couldn't stop. That nervous tick he'd always had was starting up again. The nervous tick that happened when he waited for adventure. It was out there, somewhere, in the form of a slow detective inspector.

Lestrade finally arrived, about half an hour later, mumbling about the 'bloody traffic'

John nearly smiled. It reminded him of Sherlock.

In unspoken agreement, Lestrade and John began to look for clues. But the madman covered his tracks well. There was absolutely nothing.

Lestrade groaned.

"Well now what? We've gotten this far without much complication. And now we are here."

John held up a hand.

"Wait a second…"

The army doctor looked down at the tracks. He didn't just see. He observed.

"Lestrade?"

Greg tilted his head at the wonder in John's voice.

"Yes?"

"Have you noticed that in one direction, the tracks are clean, and in another, they are rusted?"

The pair were soundless. Lestrade opened his mouth a couple times to speak, but couldn't think of a proper word to describe Johns brilliance. At long last, he spoke.

"That's… that's real Sherlocky of ya…"

John shrugged. He thought of how much Sherlock had tried to teach him, and how little he'd picked up. Maybe it was time for him to teach himself.

"Let's go."

The duo stepped onto the rails, and began to walk. There was a stillness to the air, as if they had reached the eye of the storm. Something told John they had. This had to be some sort of trap, but john hoped otherwise. It couldn't be. Moriarty was too focused on Sherlock. Little did John know, Moriarty's web was much bigger than anyone had imagined.

sorry for all the mistakes ive made along this story. i will possibly be rewriting it... so how did you like it? please please please leave me a review, it gives me motivation, and sometimes i scream. if you would like my tumblr, please message me. if you want a new friend, message me! anywho, hope you enjoy. i will be updating soon. thanks a bunch,

~asher