A/N Hello! :) sorry for such a long wait and for a kind of short chapter (shorter than any other one I have written) but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting any longer, and the next part is going to be pretty long I can promise you that.
Not too much action in this one but some feels and angst (crosses fingers that it actually turned out good)
Now enjoy :)
(John’s POV)
I don’t know how long it was until I came too, still convulsing, on the floor of a different room. This room was well lit, narrow, had a white wall on the end covered in different puncture marks and welts. I recognized this type of room immediately, it was a shooting range. Every once in a while my body would twitch with the aftershocks, so I concluded that I wasn’t out for very long. Even in the dire situation, I smiled a little bit at my deduction, wondering if Sherlock would be proud of me. The smile fell. Probably not, I wasn’t smart enough to figure out how to stop Moriarty and how to escape.
“I see you have awoken Johnny boy?” The teasing voice came from the shadows at the end of the room. Groaning, I peeled myself off the floor and stood up shakily. My legs trembled as I tried to walk towards were the voice was coming from.
“Show… your… face… you Coward.” I hissed between my clenched teeth, taking one shaky step after another.
“Oh I wouldn’t exert yourself too much John that was a lot of Electricity that your body took. Almost put you into cardiac arrest.” Moriarty stepped out into the light, only a few feet away from where I stood. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to get rid of a bad idea. “What a shame if that would have happened. I wouldn’t want to break my new toy so soon.” He sent me a signature sadistic grin, and I forced myself to stay put. I wasn’t stupid, I knew he could easily overpower me in my state; I could hardly bloody walk for god’s sake!
“And why exactly do you need me?” I asked through a clenched jaw.
“Oh John, don’t you listen?” He pouted slightly. “I don’t need you. I am just using you. The only person I want is Sherlock.” Moriarty cocked his head to the side. “You know, I can finally start to see why Sherlock keeps you around. Anyone could stand in the same room as you and feel like a genius.” I bit my lip.
“Shut up.” I whispered, feeling my eyes sting with tears. But no, Moriarty wasn’t nearly finished with me yet.
“Oh, don’t act like you didn’t know.” He taunted. “What did you think you are to Sherlock? No more than a pet, something of amusement.”
“He is my friend.” I don’t know if I’m trying to convince Moriarty or myself with this statement.
“Friend, oh Johnny boy you really make me laugh. You know what you are? You’re like a pet dog. Why do people get dogs John?” He laughs bitterly. “They use them as a form of entertainment, something that they have at their disposal when they need something to keep them busy. Then, when the owner gets bored, you know what they do?” Moriarty walks over to me so that we are standing nearly nose to nose. “They abandon them. Leave them alone, ignore them. But you know what the dog does?” I gulp nervously. “The dog waits. Just sit there and waits like an idiot for its owner to come back and love it. And this idiot dog will sit there waiting, and when the owner comes back the dog will love him and be loyal until the very end.”
“Stop it…” I whisper, pleading now. I didn’t want to notice the resemblance, it was too accurate.
“You are like a dog to Sherlock, aren’t you John?” He knows what he’s doing to me, and is smiling. That sick bastard. “You’ll love him until you die, even if he doesn’t give a damn about you. How adorable.” That’s when my resolve snapped, and I feebly swung my fist at his face. The action took Moriarty by surprise, and I was able to knock him down and feel satisfied at the sight of blood running down his nose before 2 more men came from behind me and knocked me unconscious.
(Sherlock’s POV)
I tore through the confused groups of tourists as I ran frantically down the halls of the old prison.
“Stop! What are you doing?! Sir!” The security guards tried to block my path to the basement, but I just carelessly threw them aside, listening to Lestrade explain behind me.
“Detective Inspector Lestrade… yes… sorry about him… anyways we have reason to believe that there is a hostage down in the basement…” I couldn’t hear the rest as I descended down the steep spiral staircase and into a dark, cement hall. There were doors lining up and down the place, farther than my flashlight could see. I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration looking around when something caught my eye. There was a dark mark on the wall, and upon closer examination I found that it was blood. I lifted one of my shaking fingers to touch it, and found the droplet to be in a semi-dried state. Whoever left the blood was here only a few hours ago. John! I thought, and quickly followed the trail, willing myself not to think about the fact that it was John’s blood trail that I’m following, before coming across a door with the lock broken.
“Sherlock!” Callum called from down the hallway, but I ignored him before kicking the door wide open. The room was still lit, and the trail ended at a larger and darker pool of blood a couple inches in front of the chair. I could picture it so easily, John sitting in this very chair, leaning forward as the blood dripped from his mouth and nose, unconscious from the pain. Judging by the few splatters around the initial puddle, he twitched a couple of times from the aftershocks.
“Sherlock, you need to see this!” Lestrade’s voice came from on the other side of one of the walls, and I quickly ran out of the room, eager to leave this place, before entering the door right next to it in the hallway. Gathered around a few static television screens were the police, and on the desk there was a phone.
“You called?” I asked, standing in the doorway apprehensively while the security officers stumbled over themselves trying to come up with reasons that they didn’t see someone drag an unconscious body through the museum. “Oh, would you 2 just shut up!” I snap, getting everyone’s attention. “Don’t buy into their stupid story Lestrade. The taller guard wasn’t even here last night. Judging by the faint lipstick marks on his collar, he was on his way to work last night when a lady called him. Mistress, most likely considering the fact that you tried so hard to wash out the makeup on your collar, and perfume still clinging to your shirt is a scent that is used by younger women, much younger than yourself. The other one was playing games on the computer all night long, judging by the way his thumb keeps twitching and the fact that your breath reeks as if you have had Mtn. Dew all night then coffee without bothering to brush your teeth. Now, due to your lack of attention a sadistic criminal was able to sneak in a person and torture him with the use of the electric chair, and this person that was tortured was a good friend of mine. Now, I would suggest you get out of my sight!” I shouted, causing the red-faced guards to scurry out of the room before running over to Lestrade, who had a slight smirk on his face.
“There’s our freak.” Donovan muttered under her breath. Brushing off the comment, I pick up the phone, confused until Lestrade hands me a piece of paper.
Once you arrive please call this number
Oh, and Sherlock, you shouldn’t wait, John won’t last much longer.
Love, Moriarty
555-4813
Fingers trembling, I reach for the phone and dial the numbers slowly before putting the phone up to my ear and listening it to it ring.
Click.
“Hello?” I ask, hoping that whoever is on the other end can’t hear my voice shake.
“H-hello Sherlock. Having f-f-fun yet?” My eyes widen at the voice. It was one that I feared that I would never hear again.
“…John?” I whisper.
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Friends Protect People (Johnlock)
FanfictionIt's been 2 years since the Reichenbach fall, and John is a mess. Recent events have motivated Sherlock to reunite with his doctor, but things don't go as he planned when he finds John's dark secrets. Will John be able to forgive Sherlock from hidin...
