John's heart was beating furiously against his chest as he followed Jamen down the hallway, with Ludovic trailing behind. He'd convinced Jamen to let them go, just like he'd said he would. He's seen the fear in Jamen Cassius's eyes as he threatened to sabotage the man's entire career. He was excited to tell Sherlock of how smart he had been, rub it in his face that he'd solved a case without Sherlock's help.

But honestly, he was more excited to see Sherlock. He hated to admit it, but he was very fond of Sherlock, he wanted him back.

"If you tell anyone about this, I will find and kill every person you've ever cared about, no information may be repeated out of these walls. This is not the end of our little game you've created. You will regret this." Jamen snarled, stopping at a large metal door, scowling at John through his dark eyes.

John thought of snapping back with some snarky comment, something like "no, you'll regret this!" but he could tell Jamen was wearing very thin on his patience. John knew from experience that trying a psychopath's patience never ended well.

The door was heavy as he swung it open, his muscles strained against the heavy door as he pushed it far enough for him to walk in. The first thing he noticed was the violin bow on the floor. Sherlock's bow. It reflected off of the smooth, polished white porcelain tiles. The rest of the room was a fairly simple design, white walls, tall ceiling, bed tucked in the corner neatly, but John didn't care about that.

He cared about the small boy curled up in a ball in the middle of the room.

Sherlock was dressed in a hospital gown, which clearly too big for him. His skin was deathly pale as John knelt down to his side, brushing his hand across Sherlock's thin face. He was hugging his violin like a stuffed animal and was shutting his eyes tightly, as if in pain.

"Sherlock..." He whispered gently, wishing he could scoop him up and strangle him in a hug. But he was afraid he would hurt him. What had they done to him?

His eyes opened immediately, and a pair of familiar, spectacularly colored eyes gazed into his own mundane eyes. "What took you so long?" He yawned, reaching up to rub his eyes.

"No way, you knew we were coming?" Ludovic gasped, crouching down to John's side.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, before curling up tighter as he shivered, "No, the moment I strategically placed my phone in Johns pocket before being taking away, I thought, 'at least in my final moments I'll know John was able to check his blog status'"

John smiled, for once happy to hear Sherlock's snarky comment.

"You gave him the phone?" Jamen asked, anger rising in his voice.

Surprisingly, all Sherlock did was hide his head in between his legs, muffling something softly as he shook. That made John mad. Sherlock rarely let anyone have the advantage of letting them know what they'd said affected him, yet he seemed completely terrified of Jamen.

He scooped Sherlock into his arms, despite his protests, and glared at Jamen coldly as he walked out of the room, "If you ever try to hurt him again-"

"I know, I know," Jamen interrupted, his smile dripping back into place. He seemed to have noticed Sherlock's fear, "Fear the Mother Bear John. You two really are adorable, did you know that? Until next time."

John didn't say anything. He wanted to, he wanted to make some deep threat that would scare Jamen away, but he was too busy trying to get out of there before Jamen changed his mind. He didn't know how quickly it would take for him to realize how easily he could still kidnap them all, and go completely unnoticed.

He didn't see Ludovic laugh as Sherlock pointed his middle finger towards Jamen and mouthed a nasty set of insults to him. Sherlock may have been afraid of the man, but that didn't mean he couldn't flip him off.

All that mattered was that Sherlock was safe in John's arms. At least...for now.

"Put me down," Sherlock ordered as they neared the entrance, using his violin to wack John.

John fought of a smile, his voice was pretty adorable. "No, Sherlock. We need to get you to the hospital. We'll drive with Mycroft and Molly to the hospital-"

"No. I may look helpless at the moment, but I am a fully responsible adult. I don't need my older brother driving me to the doctors." Sherlock protested stubbornly. But the faint quiver in his voice and the way his head bobbed with every step said other wise. Not to mention how much paler he seemed to be getting ever minute.

Ludovic swooned, "He's such a precious bean!"

"Your mother-"

"Alright, Sherlock. That's enough. We just-" John swore suddenly, gazing out of the front door where Molly and Mycroft were visible. He was surprised about the literal helicopter Mycroft had parked outside. Molly and Mycroft were verbally abusing each other, which wasn't surprising, but John had just realized...

"Ha! They don't know." Sherlock said, as if reading his mind, taking a second to take in a few deep breaths before continuing. "Don't worry, John. I have the perfect plan..." His smile was purely wicked as he looked from John's arms to where his older brother stood.

John wanted to protest, but he decided that letting Sherlock torment his brother would help lighten all of their moods. Plus, he loved watching Mycroft freak out.

...

"My brother will never love you," Mycroft said plainly, "he's to in love with his ego to love anything else."

"Oh, just like you and your cake?" Molly retorted, folding her arms defensively.

Mycroft glared, Molly didn't realize the immense scientific process his precious cake went through to be perfect. They'd began bickering out of nerves waiting for John. In all honestly, he was perfectly fine with leaving John and the fat man to save Sherlock. But the freaky child John had picked up along the way wouldn't stop talking as if Sherlock was already dead.

"It's too late." the nasty child drawled, watching them from the helicopter. Mycroft had discarded the...thing the moment he had the chance.

Molly frowned, "What do you mean, Lucy?" she asked gently, though her eyes were narrowed worriedly.

"He's one of us. Too late." She muttered, before losing interest completely in the conversation to stab herself with what appeared to be a pencil. Mycroft wasn't sure where the child had found the pencil, but there was one thing for certain he knew, he was never going to have a child. Disgusting little things, they were. He was just glad there weren't more than one.

At that moment, John and Ludovic came into view. Mycroft's heart began to pound and his mind began spinning when he didn't see Sherlock among them. But John was smiling, waving. It gave him hope to look professional as he restrained Molly from tackling John in a hug.

"So?" He said shortly, "Where is he?"

John exchanged glances at Ludovic. They were quite plainly trying to keep something secret, which meant it had something to do with Sherlock. He couldn't have been hurt, John wouldn't have been smiling, but something was definitely up.

"He's coming..." John muttered, glancing behind him.

All four of them stared. And stared. Even John looked confused as nothing happened. Sherlock had probably planned to walk out dramatically, Mycroft guessed. He knew for a fact that Sherlock loved the dramatics.

But right as Mycroft started to ask what John was playing at, he heard the sound of his helicopter powering up. All four of them spun around, and Mycroft watched in horror as the little girl cheered as the helicopter began to slowly rise.

"Sherlock-you idiot!" John screamed, racing to jump on the helicopter before it got to high. But it was too late.

The helicopter took off, and all Mycroft, John, Ludovic and Molly could do was stare as the helicopter spun around the mansion several times, dramatically swerving up and down before finally coming slowly to the ground.

Mycroft was furious. Why had he been worried about Sherlock? The little brat could've wrecked his plane, died, killed the child thing, the sociopath maniac.

He muttered a few curses as he followed Molly and Ludovic up to the plane to where John was scolding the person sitting in the drivers seat.

"You need to go to the hospital, Sherlock! You could have lost consciousness, you could have gotten dizzy, and you're too short!"

Too short? Mycroft scoffed, assuming it was some sort of inside joke between the two. But as he finally pulled himself close enough to see Sherlock, he was proven wrong. A small boy in a hospital gown looked up at him, grinning evilly at him. He had thick black hair that fell in soft curls around his face. It wasn't until the boy announced, "Oh, brother dear. Why didn't you tell me you had such an entertaining toy?" that he knew who it was.

"Is that?" Molly gasped.

John nodded grimly, "It is."

"How-"

"No idea."

Mycroft stared at his brother, Sherlock, before screaming, "What the f-"

~To be Continued~

Ta da! This is the ending to part one of my story. I hope you've enjoyed this, I've LOVED writing this, and I can't wait to continue. I would put the rest of my story here, but I know for a fact that I usually skip over the stories that have fifty parts to them. I'll start another volume of "An Awkward Situation" to my profile as soon as I can. Thank you SO much for reading this, and I can't wait to continue!

*Sherlock Theme Song plays, inviting you to read An Awkward Situation part two as Benedict Cumberbatch models his rad cheekbones*

Later!!!!!!!!!!!!!!