Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Claymore

Breathing's Boring

Sherlock pulled back his bow at the same time as John and it was no surprise to them both when their arrows found their target. The noise and screaming continued around them, as demon-John put his arms around Sherlock to protect him from the debris and then all was quiet for they were in the eye of the storm. There were so many things Sherlock wanted to say but words left him and he felt that the universe and whatever forces ran it were in a flux of irony at that moment, for Sherlock had never felt so safe and protected as he did when he lay in the arms of his demon-John. Sharp objects cut at Sherlock and demon-John’s skin until black blood mingled with red blood and human flesh merged with demon flesh and then there was a silence so intense that it felt as if the entire city and suddenly become sound proof.

Sherlock opened his eyes and looked down at his chest; it was not ripped open as he suspected it might be it was smooth, white, untouched. Ignoring the chaos that littered the streets of London in front of 221b Baker Street, Sherlock spotted a figure curled up in a tight ball on the step to his flat. Sherlock ran forward and knelt down, “John?” He whispered.

John sat up like a small child that had taken a very long nap, rubbed his eyes, and then looked over at Sherlock and smiled, “Sherlock, what is it?”

Sherlock opened John’s shirt, his skin was not pierced either, and just to make sure Sherlock slid his arms around John’s waist, until he was satisfied that John was unharmed.

“Sherlock, “John laughed and said, “This is hardly the place.”

Without a word Sherlock pulled John into his arms and kissed him fully on the mouth. He ignored the sounds of the city recovering from the horror that had almost overtaken them, as he slid his tongue into John’s mouth, twirling and twisting it around his tongue, like a snake squeezing its prey.

“I can’t breathe,” John gasped as he pulled away.

Sherlock paused and said, “Shut up, John, breathing is boring,” as he continued where he had left off.

A few weeks later and Mycroft slowly recovered, London buried its dead and cleaned up the debris, the dragons resumed their habitation in the Chislehurst Caves, Clare went back to her world along with Jake who wanted to work on developing a closer relationship with her and Sherlock and John resumed their activities with one another. The events that had overtaken London were talked about in the days to come and the four horsemen were brushed away as radical terrorists until finally the world agreed that London had been hit by a pandemic type of plague and nothing more, and the tales of the horsemen were talked about only by children who shivered in the dark at the memory of them.