Repens

Lestrade was in shock when he saw John escorting Molly into the station. Both looked on edge and a bit pale. But where was Sherlock? He was always in the middle of something like this yet he was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he was on his way.

"What's going on? Where's Sherlock?" Greg inquired in a gentle yet demanding voice.

"Can we speak to you… In private." The nervous John swallowed hard just thinking how to begin this conversation. Lestrade had only started being their ally again a few months ago. Now this.
The three walked into his office then Molly closed the door behind and pulled the blinds down.

"Top secret then?" the inspector detective chuckled, now completely worried.

"You might want to sit down," John began with a glance towards the silent Molly.

"Out with it." Greg moaned.

"Moriarty is back." The words alone made Lestrade sick to his stomach. After a pregnant silence, he continued. "He found out that it IS Moriarty. Our old friend Jim is back and at his old tricks. He threatened Molly so you need to keep an eye on her here at the station. Don't let her out of your sight. Sherlock's orders."

"He doesn’t think I'm just going to sit around babysitting while he-"

"No. He assumes you'll be the friend in high places he needs right now, trust him, and do as he says," John yelled, staring Lestrade in the eyes. "We don't have time for this. Steph is already in danger and we're getting close. Very close. Do as he asks and protect Miss Hooper with your life."

He didn't like it but there was nothing he could do. Greg knew the present situation. Sherlock and Moriarty's first go around was bad enough. It was best to keep round two as private as possible. Now that he knew he could fully trust Sherlock, even if no one else did, his course of action was perfectly clear.

"Go on then," he mumbled, praying this didn't cost him his job. "She'll be safe here. I'll look after her myself."

"Thank you," Molly finally spoke up with grateful eyes.

"Alright, then. Text Sherlock is something comes up and wait for his say so before doing anything. Anything, got it?"

"Yes, yes, now go. Before I change my mind."

John and Molly looked at eachother once more before he ran out of Lestrade's small office.
Watson had been gone all of fifteen seconds before Greg smiled at Molly and asked, "Fancy a cuppa?"

---
John returned to St. Bart's with a clouded mind. All of this was happening much quicker than events in their previous cases. Yet the very same events also seemed to be creeping by painfully slow. They were making progress but not quick enough. Perhaps their being so close to the victim made the largest difference; since they knew Stephanie personally, they were more aware of the ticking clock that determined her life. Or maybe the tender hearted doctor couldn't bear to see his best friend's heart ripped from his chest. John remembered the way Sherlock behaved after Irene had faked her death- and they were far from an actual relationship. He couldn't even imagine the terrors that awaited them should something happen to Stephanie Thomas.

As he walked in, their Chinese ally greeted him with a warm smile, something peculiar in his hand.

"Hello, again," John half smiled, still too worried to genuinely be pleased to see anyone.

"This was dropped off for Mr. Holmes," the man asked more than stated.

In his hand was a plastic sandwich bag with a scalpel inside, a layer of dried blood on the blade. John hid all traces of fear that welled up inside of him. His stomach was sick once more but he kept himself composed, eager to show the object in question to the brains of the case.

"Alright. I'll make sure he gets it immediately. Thank you."

The man gave a slight bow with hands pressed together at his chest. There was something about his smirk that didn't settle with Watson. Then again, his mind was probably playing tricks on him from the multiple adrenaline rushes experienced today. The man was probably just pleased to be helping them solve this most pressing case. Yes, that was it.

He glanced at the clock before entering the lab he had left Sherlock in almost an hour ago. It was already noon. They didn't have much time left. Only five hours remained.

"Find anything?" John asked a concentrated Sherlock.

The tall detective was scrunched in a corner of the room, far from his usual place at a telescope or computer. He had gone past technology and had begun his journey of rational logic- a task that only sometimes worked. At first, John wondered if his best friend had even noticed his presence. He could have been in his mind palace but that usually involved arm movement. Just as he opened his mouth to speak again, Sherlock gave a loud defeated sigh.

"Nothing. Is Molly safe?" It wasn't until he glanced up through a curtain of curls that a corner of his lips turned up. "What is that?"

"What?" Sherlock's response had caught John off guard. "Oh, our Asian friend handed me this to give to you."

"Obviously it's for me," Holmes stated flatly while standing and grabbing the bag, eyeing the metal closely through the thin plastic. "Interesting."

He hadn't time to walk over to the row of telescopes before security burst through the door.

"Sherlock Holmes," the largest officer addressed in an unpleasant manner. "We just received word that you were in the hospital labs with a weapon."

"A weapon? Don't be dull. I'm on a case investigating a piece of evidence I just received from one of your surgeons."

"I'm sorry, sir, but you'll have to be taken into custody."

"You can't be serious," John half laughed, ready to mouth off to the next sod that spoke.

Two officers took several steps towards Sherlock as the detective rolled his eyes, put the plastic bag on the table, and lifted his hands in surrender- with a great deal of annoyance. Whoever the bag had come from, and he had a pretty good idea, they were being far more clever than he had anticipated. However, this was James Moriarty.

"We don't have time for this, boys," John yelled trying his hardest to remain calm. "A girl's life is at stake and we are on a clock."

"This man is on our clock now," the ring leader half chuckled at the blonde man's attempts to save his friend.

"John, call Lestrade. Tell him to stay with Molly but send for help."

"You're not getting help from anyone Mr. Thrill-seeker."

So they knew about his faked suicide. Well, who didn't, actually. Sherlock's past record had been tainted ever since that day and the employees at the hospital had become a bit edgy around him, to say the very least. He knew what this looked like- the mad man getting into trouble in his medical playground once again. First he had tried to kill himself. Perhaps he would go after someone else in the hospital next- an event the hospital and staff couldn't afford to risk.

Neither John or Sherlock said another word, only worried glances, before the cuffed Holmes was escorted from the lab. The moment the four security guards disappeared with Stephanie's only hope, Watson ran to the phone on the other side of the room.

"Get me Lestrade. NOW!" He waited in anxious silence, beginning to pace as far as the chord would allow. "Someone framed Sherlock at Bart's. Do whatever you can to get him out. But remember, you have to stay with Molly." The enraged Watson hung up before Lestrade could reply.

Five minutes later, John watched Greg walk through the doors of the main lobby.

"What are you doing here? Your orders were to stay with-"

"I don’t take 'orders' from civilians," Lestrade barked, using the perfect set of words that would get under the former soldier's skin.

"We told you how important the instructions were," John whispered, afraid of what the consequences could be. If their plan even started to fall apart-exactly how it was now, thanks to Lestrade-Jim would notice.

"This matter should be handled by the proper authorities anyways. I've been breaking rules letting you two continue on your own for this long. The pair of you almost cost me my job once and I won't let it happen again."

While John understood where the inspector was coming from, he couldn't help worrying about the effects of Lestrade's disobedience. Greg immediately picked up on John's inner conflict. The man was obviously in a moral dilemma. He could almost hear John asking himself what Sherlock would do. Unable to keep his selfish demeanor, Lestrade let out a deep sigh.

"Fine. What happened?"

Their eyes met, John's entirely thankful and Greg's ready to hear whatever ridiculous tale he knew was to come.