[He rolls his eyes in unfettered irritation. This isn't good enough, they're on a very tight schedule and he can almost feel the ticking inside him, like his mind palace has been filled with clocks. Clocks and Mycroft looking smugly at his watch while Sherlock races around always one step behind where he needs to be.]

Then what good are you if you didn't bring anything to cut with? Honestly, John, I'm a prisoner, didn't it cross your mind that I would most likely be restrained? Or did you truly think that I would have remained here of my own free will?

[He exhales a loud and pointed sigh, and slouches back against the wall.]