An Affair to Remember-Sherlock Fanfic

Sea of Life, Sea of Death

John lay in his bed tossing and turning, lonely for Sherlock. Then the shrill ringing of his bedside phone made John jump. He shivered as the night air hit his sweat soaked body and for a moment he was confused about where he was.  Then John stared at the phone again and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" He asked sleepily.

"John, is that you?" A woman's voice asked in a panic.

"Yes, who else would it be?" John snapped irritably.

"I'm sorry to call so late, but it's me Elsa. I think I'm in trouble. I think someone is trying to kill me." She whispered frantically. "John, can you meet me outside the bar where we had a drink?"

John sighed, "Fine, I'll be right there, however, Elsa I not much of a protector these days."

Elsa ignored the tone of self-pity in John's voice, "John, hurry I'm frightened." She said and then the phone went dead.

John wheeled over and put a coat on over his sweats and rolled up on the deck. They were definitely going through rough waters, for John had trouble keeping his wheelchair from careening wildly out of control. "Damn," John swore as a cold, mist of ocean spray blew in his face. "Maybe, I should have contacted Sherlock," John thought as he struggled to right himself. He had just about got things under control when a voice announced over the loud speaker.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we are going through turbulent waters and we request that you stay off the main decks until we navigate through the storm." The voice was pleasant as if announcing the time of day and John scowled up at the speaker in annoyance. He was just about to wheel back to his cabin, when he heard the faint sounds of Elton John singing, "Crocodile Rock." Though the song was upbeat and cheerful, something about the sound of the notes being torn away on wind gave John the creeps, especially when the,"La, La, La," part of the song rang out. Then John heard a violin playing the theme from, "Romeo and Juliet," by Nino and the sound was so sweet that it could only be Sherlock playing-his Sherlock.

"Sherlock, is that you?" John called out, as the music played on. There was no answer and then the violinist started playing, "Oh Mio Babbino Caro."  "This must be some attempt at seduction by Sherlock. "John thought and then sighed, "Well, it's working." He thought in content as the notes washed over him. Then the violin music faded away. John had wheeled himself into a corner, thinking that perhaps the whole thing had been a ruse brought about by Sherlock and he smiled fondly, "Sherlock, what a nut." He thought. Then another song played over the waves of the rising storm. "The House of the Rising Sun," sung by the Animals.

And as the music began to crescendo to its apex, John saw a figure making its way through the shadows towards him. John had positioned his wheelchair firmly against the wall of the bar and as the shadowy figure came closer, John could tell it was not Sherlock, but neither was it Elsa. There was nowhere for John to wheel to, so he locked the brakes firmly and let his fingers trail over the place where Sherlock had pulled back so hard on the brakes of his chair that the rubber was sliced open. "What do you want?" John asked in a voice much stronger than he felt. Silence, there was nothing said by the figure and John had the surreal impression that he was in some sort of Mummy Grade B horror movie.

That was one of the last thoughts that ran through his mind as something hit him from behind, John screamed for help, but the sound was torn away on the wind. Slowly, like a large vehicle tipping on the road, John fell sideways on to the wet, slippery deck. He was still conscious when his head hit the wooden planks of the ship and John thought it strange that the water made the deck seem as if it were painted black. John's body went numb as his attacker drug him face down on the deck to the edge of the railing and then right before they reached their destination, his attacker's goal, John's death, his would be killer began to slam John's head on the deck over and over until John lost consciousness. The last thing he remembered was the dark water, that matched the dark blood that flowed into his eyes and the last thought he had was of Sherlock-Sherlock's beautiful sea-green eyes, the color of his eyes life for John, the color of the sea death for John.

"John, can you hear me?" A frantic voice called into John's pain filled foggy mind.

"John, please dear God, answer me." Sherlock cried out his cover forgotten as he cradled John in his arms on a bed in sick-bay.

"Excuse me, Sir, you've got to let us work on him," a clipped voice commanded.

"Sounds like a real bastard, must be a Doctor," John thought as he lost consciousness again.