Aftermath

17~John's POV

I don't think I'll ever forget his screams.

"This is when it gets scary," Dr. McGhee says. He grabs the tube, and begins to pull, and Sherlock screams, and his eyes, I can see it in his eyes. He can't handle this pain, not in the state he's in.

I lean over him. "Focus on me, Sherlock. Don't think about anything but me." His eyes close, and he's still screaming. When the tube is gone, I grab his shoulders and hold him to me. "It's all out Sherlock, it's all gone." He's still screaming, which probably isn't helping. "Shh, Sherlock. It's okay. If you stop screaming, you might feel a little bit better." He stops, and I hold him, rocking slightly, and rub his hair. I hear him try to say something. I lean my ear closer to his lips. "What?" I ask.

"She's the nurse... from... from earlier." I straighten up and stare at her. So that's why he struggled to get away from her.

"Out!" I yell.

Dr. McGhee looks at me with a confused expression. "What?"

"That nurse is the one responsible for all of this!" I yell. Dr. McGhee looks at her, with fire in his eyes. He grabs her arm and drags her out of the room, while the resident follows behind. 

Sherlock pulls my head close to his again. "I love your captain voice," he says with a smile. "Oi!" He exclaims, wincing. "You told Mycroft," he says. I look at the floor.

"Yes, I did." I refuse to meet his gaze, for fear of seeing anger there.

"It's okay," he croaks.

"Really?" I ask, finally looking at him. Sherlock has never been this forgiving.

He nods, and I lean down to gently kiss him.

Someone clears their throat, and I sigh, frustrated that we can never be alone together. When I look up, I see the one person I thought I'd never see.

"Well, I see my little scare obviously worked," he says.

"Jim? You did this?"

"Of course he did," I hear Sherlock say. His voice is still weak, and it breaks my heart. "He knew I was alive, then found out I knew he was alive, then found out about the one sentimental attachment I have in this world, and decided to manipulate it."

"Very good," Moriarty says, a sick, sadistic smile on his face. 

"Wait, what was that "one sentimental attachment"?" I ask.

"Oh, come on, John. You're not that dull," Jim says.

"Me?" I ask. Sherlock nods.

"He learned from  Magnussen that you are my "pressure point". And yes, Magnussen  was working for him."

"Boring..." Jim mutters.

"So you tried to use me? To kill him?" This isn't making any sense.

"Oh, no. If I wanted him dead, he'd be dead. I was just confirming a fact."

"Confirming a fact? What fact?"

"That you're his pressure point. Come on, Watson. Do keep up."

"So I'm just a pawn in your game?" I'm getting angrier and angrier.

"Oh, no. Don't think so lowly of yourself, Doctor. You're the queen in a drawn out game of chess."

"Just shut up, Jim," Sherlock snaps.

"Oh, someone's a little overprotective of his queen." Jim looks at me. "Come on, John. Be a good little queen and step away."

"And if I say no?"