Loyal (Johnlock)

Information (Sherlock's POV)

"If...if I tell you..." He started and swallowed, looking at his twin.

"Continue." I commanded.

"If I tell you where...where...he is...will you stop hurting us?" He gulped. I gazed at him for a moment, letting his words hover awkwardly in the air between us.

"Depends on if you are being truthful or not." I murmured.

"You'll have to trust me for I have no way of proving it other than facts." Weasel looked worriedly at Midget as Midget's head dropped and blood continued to pool out of the cuts and drip onto the floor.

"I'll decide wether or not to trust you once I hear your side of the story." I responded and laid the knife on the bed as I turned and walked over to the fire place. "I can't take you guys to the hospital, or let you guys die, but I can stop Midget from bleeding." I spoke more to myself than anyone else.

"Midget?" Weasel asked.

"The bleeding one." I grabbed the metal from the fire and looked at it as heat waves simmered off of it and it glowed bright white. I then proceed to walk back over to Midget and smirked in a somewhat sympathetic fashion

"This will hurt like hell, but it'll stop the bleeding." I told Midget as I placed the rod on his cuts, melding the skin together. Midget's screams broke afresh as he tried to writhe. The smell of burning flesh filled the room and Weasel seemed to visibly choke on the aroma. Once all his cuts had been burned shut, Midget's head fell against his chest and his breathing took on a labored and nasally quality. I walked slowly back to the fire and returned the poker to the flames.

"Now, Weasel, where are they?" It took a moment for Weasel to realize I was talking to him.

"You might as well kill me after I tell, for Moriarty will do much worse if he ever finds out." Weasel took a deep breath and spared a glance over at his brother, as if steeling himself for the betrayal he was about to commit, "Moriarty has a cabin back in London, he'd take all of his clients there. Well, Sebastian would when he was still alive. He said it was the perfect place to hide away and stay under the radar. It's basically out in the middle of nowhere...almost no one knows where it is."

"But you know where it is?" I spoke slowly, not sure wether to believe him. This felt too good to be real.

"I had to get it ready for him and John." At the sound of John's name I growled and lunged closer, my hands closing tightly around Weasel's arms. His head yanked back and his eyes grew wide.

"He's okay! He's okay!" He cried out, in a vain attempt to dampen my fury.

"Where is the cabin?" I growled.

"Can I whisper it?" He asked, voice slightly shaking and eyes wide. I nodded and moved my head closer. The syllables rumbled off of his tongue, getting caught occasionally. He had to repeat it for his voice kept giving out halfway through.

"If you're being truthful, I'll release you. But if you aren't..." I let the threat hang there and watched as he maintained eye contact. I slowly and carefully began my deductions, reading his heart rate, pupil dilation, swallows and everything else that could possibly tell me wether or not he was lying.

"I am." His voice was unwavering, perfectly monotone but, at the same time, wrought with a cold hard seriousness that bordered on rage.

"I know." I spoke in equal tones of controlled anger, though it was not directed completely at these two, but at their boss. I would kill Moriarty once I found him.

"So you'll release us?" Weasel asked suspiciously.

"Eventually, just not yet." I smiled at his hardened expression, "I might find a use for you later. Who knows?" Midget gave no sign that he had heard me, he was probably out cold from the pain he had endured. Weasel growled slightly. I pulled out my phone, glancing at the time.

"You physcopath." Weasel hissed.

"Sociopath, do your research." I smiled coldly before heading toward the door.

"You can't just leave us here!" Weasel called out.

"Watch me." I placed a hand on the handle.

"We'll starve!" Weasel reasoned.

"Who said that's not what I want?" I turned to look at him and he must've saw the deadness in my eyes, the ability to cause pain and feel no guilt in the aftermath, for he suddenly paled greatly. The last thing I saw before walking out the door and locking it shut was the understanding and fear in Weasel's eyes. I straightened my suit, standing on the doorstep of the small little house. There were no other houses anywhere for miles. I wondered why Moriarty had given me this address and left two men there.

"What game are you playing?" I wondered aloud. I then walked over to the sleek black rental car and hopped in. I suddenly slammed my fist into the horn, over and over again. Rage boiled hotly underneath my skin, threatening to spill over and destroy everything. I yanked my hands from the steering wheel and bent them into fists, the fingernails digging into my palms. I say there, breathing harshly, for a few more moments before finally locking away the emotion. The door was growing ever weaker with the passing days.

"Back to London." I sighed, turning on the car and finally driving back to the airport.