Demon in London (Superlock Crossover)

Chapter 5 - Held Prisoner

John Watson's P.O.V.

  As I woke up, I found myself on the floor of a dark and empty room. I try to get up and discover that my hands and legs were bound up tightly with rope. Immediately I struggle against the rope, trying to wiggle free, but it was no use.

  After managing to sit against a nearby wall, I looked around the room. There was absolutely nothing in the room and the only light was coming from the small slit under the door. I try think back to the moment before I blacked out but there were only a few scarce memories.

  The last thing I remember is Sherlock and his eyes. The image was still fresh in my mind. The thought of those pitch black eyes...... Black eyes? Sherlock's eyes are supposed to be a light blue-grey not black. My head hurts and my memories are still foggy. Maybe I'm just remembering the situation incorrectly.

  Suddenly, I hear someone speak. It seems like there are two people arguing outside. I wonder if one of them is my kidnapper.

  Moving towards the door, I listened as carefully as I could and tried to see if I recognized the voices. I instantly recognized the first voice belonging to Sherlock.

  "He just wouldn't listen!" Sherlock yells. "I didn't want to hurt him but I had to stop him before he knew too much."

  "Then you shouldn't have let him into the flat in the first place," the other man scolded. "If he discovers what we're doing, then our entire operation is a failure."

  Operation? What was Sherlock doing? Who's Sherlock talking to? So many questions with no answers... I move away from the door.

  "Shit," I curse silently as I accidentally hit my head on the doorknob.

  The two men standing outside suddenly become quiet.

  Dammit. Why did I have to be so clumsy? I lean against a nearby wall, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in my head. I tense up as I hear the men talking again.

  "He must be awake," the other man states. "I think you should check on him."

  That was all I could hear from my location. It seems that they are now whispering or speaking very softly to each other. What have I gotten myself into? Mary is going to be worried about me and I might be spending my last days in this empty room.

  Just then, the door unlocks. I shut my eyes as the lights in the room are turned on. When I open them, standing in front of the door is Sherlock. He walks over to me and crouches so that he is at my eye level.

  "I see you're finally awake," Sherlock acknowledges.

  "Where am I?" I demand. "Why am I here?"

  "You're somewhere safe," Sherlock explains. "I can't let you go just yet."

  "You didn't answer all my questions," I say. "Why am I here Sherlock?"

  "I simply can't tell you," Sherlock says.

  Sherlock then stands up and starts to slowly pace around the room.

  "John, I can actually release you right now," Sherlock taunts. "However, I will not be doing that."

  "You know too much information and I can't risk you going and telling the police everything you know," Sherlock explains.

  "What are you talking about?" I shout. "I don't even know anything!"

  "You must have been awake for a while now, I assume?" Sherlock asks as he walks towards me. "So you must have heard the little argument I had outside, am I correct?"

  "Yes..." I reply. "You were arguing with another man and-"

  "That man's name is Crowley," Sherlock interrupts. "I suggest that you don't say a word about him to the authorities."

  "Who's Crowley?" I ask.

  "I guess you could say he's a business partner of mine," Sherlock replies.

  "You don't have business partners," I state. "You've always preferred to work alone."

  "Maybe I decided I needed a change in my usual ways," Sherlock replies lazily.

  I could see Sherlock was getting quite annoyed by now. He had started pacing a bit faster and you could hear a hint of annoyance in his voice.

  He stops a few centimeters away from me and looks at me.

  "Never mind this small talk," Sherlock says. "This is not the reason why I'm here."

  "I'm here to tell you that I do not need you," Sherlock announces. "You're just another problem I need to deal with."

  "Don't be surprised if I ever decide to kill you," Sherlock says. "I just wanted to make this clear."

  I stay silent, staring up at Sherlock's cold expression. It felt like I had just been stabbed by his words.

  "Is that all?" I ask quietly. "You're just here to tell me I'm some useless thing that you might be throwing out any day now?"

  "Yes," Sherlock answers without hesitation.

  Neither of us say anything. An awkward silence falls on the room. Sherlock continues to pace around the room, avoiding any eye contact with me. Are we not friends? What have I done to make Sherlock resent me so much? I don't even know if he realises that I'm hurt by his words...

  Finally the silence is broken by Sherlock.

  "Actually..." Sherlock mumbles. "You might be useful for something."

  "Useful for what?" I ask.

  "You'll find out when Crowley comes," Sherlock replies as he walks to the door.

  "Wait!" I yell before he leaves.

  "What happened to you Sherlock?" I ask.

  "You've been acting differently since you came back," I say. "I thought you would have been a better person to me after so many years."

  Sherlock stops in the middle of opening the door. Without turning around he spoke.

  "There's nothing wrong with me," Sherlock growls. "I'm still same person you met on that day you visited St. Bart's"

  "I'm just..." Sherlock says, hesitating. "A bit different..."

  Sherlock opens the door and leaves the room quick as a flash, locking the door behind him. I stay still until I hear his footsteps disappear and then I relax a bit.

  Something is definitely wrong with Sherlock. He's cold and rude but not to this extent, especially to me. Besides, he was only like that when I first met him. Once we became friends, he warmed up to me a bit. Did something happen during those two years he was away that changed him?

  Then I started to think about the argument I overheard earlier. They were talking about some sort of operation. I still don't know what it is since Sherlock refused to disclose any information. The operation must be something big if everything must be kept a secret.

  All this is just too much right now. One minute I'm living a normal life and the next minute I'm a prisoner. I lean against the wall and decide to rest my head for a bit.

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