John didn't understand how Molly could have did the things she'd done to set them up. She had always been a person Sherlock trusted. Despite how cold he could be, Sherlock didn't turn her away and John knew that meant something. He wasn't the type to get emotionally attached, but he cared. For Sherlock to do that John knew it wasn't easy. He couldn't even count the number of times Sherlock had tried to convince him he didn't have a heart. John of course was not convinced. He knew Sherlock better than anyone, the man gave his life purpose. Sherlock needed him and he needed Sherlock. Even when they got on eachothers nerves, John wouldn't have changed their friendship for the world.
Even as he sat bound to a chair in a small plane he found himself worrying about his curly haired partner. He moved his neck in attempt to relieve some of the sore stiffness to it at no avail. Moriarty's men had dislocated his shoulder at some point during their scuffle. Relief was not going to come easy while tied down. His eyes shifted toward Moriarty, his hands gripped into fists as he tugged at the various objects keeping him down. "You're not going to get away with it." John had faith in Sherlock. Even tied down, somehow he maintained that Sherock was going to come for him. Moriarty would die and Sherlock would save him.
Thats how these stories worked wasn't it? The good guys were supposed to win. "No tea? Disappointing." John quipped, trying to keep his nerves from knotting up. "Even in coach they get a drink." He looked at Moriarty and attempted to be exasperated at his lack of hospitality.
Really a drink was the last thing on his mind, but it was the only thing he could do to keep the memories at bay. Keep talking. Don't let the pstd win, if it did then Moriarty won. He'd already watched Sherlock die once, doing it again was not an option.