A Study in Boredom: A Johnlock Fanfiction

What have you done?

John opened his eyes.

The first thing he registered was that he couldn't move an inch. He tried, and discovered his wrists and ankles were bound to the wooden chair by thick leather straps.

He couldn't see much, either. A dim, greenish spotlight shone weakly down on him and illuminated his body.

He looked down at himself.

His arms and legs were stained with blood where he'd struggled against the straps; his jumper was ruined with blood and dirt.

His head also hurt. A lot.

Before he could make a plan, a thin, mocking voice spoke in front of him. A voice he wanted to cover his ears from and block out.

"Hello again, Johnny Boy. So glad to see you're finally awake!"

And James Moriarty stepped forward into the spotlight.

As usual, his freshly pressed suit and hair were immaculate. It didn't seem to matter that they were in a dirty, dank....warehouse, John guessed; not a hair was out of place nor a speck of dust to be found on him.

John just glared. He couldn't think of anything to say, something sarcastic and

clever like Sherlock.

His heart twinged as he thought of the consulting detective. He knew that Moriarty had sent him a video, and John knew how Sherlock thought. He knew he'd come after him. But he didn't know if they would ever return to 221B Baker Street together.

"Well," said Moriarty, clasping his hands behind his back, "must be off!"

"But you haven't done anything to me." John protested, confused.

"Ah," he said quietly. "Things to do, people to see, and all that." He grinned sadistically. "Ciao!"

He melted back into the shadows. John knew exactly the 'people' he needed to see.

And he hoped with all his heart that the 'things' wasn't what he imagined.

He dropped his head and wept.

"Oh, Johnny Boy!"

John's head jerked up and Moriarty came into view.

"Give him a phone call, will you?" He ordered to someone off to the side.

And with that he walked out of sight once more, footsteps approaching John.

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Sherlock flung the door of the cab open and threw some money in the direction of the driver seat. He didn't bother shutting the door; he had to see John, /his/ John.

As the tall man neared St. Barts, his phone buzzed. He tore it from his jacket pocket and opened the message.

Rooftop. Come and play. JM x

He curled his lip in disgust and approached the door, hesitantly pushing it. He rolled his eyes and pushed it all the way, stalking inside. Of course it was open.

Into the elevator, then up one flight of stairs and he was there.

And so was Moriarty.

Sherlock fought the overwhelming urge to leap at him and kill him with his bare hands. Instead, he mirrored him, folding his hands behind his back.

The air was cold and bitter. It nipped at his face and stung his eyes. The sun was far too bright and he resisted the instinct to shield his eyes.

"You know what's gotta happen, right?" Moriarty purred, sauntering up to Sherlock.

Pause.

"Of course."

"You're never going to see him again, you know that."

Pause.

"Yes."

"Or my precious Seb will kill him. He'll kill all of them."

He said nothing in reply, and let the sick bastard continue.

"Nice day for a suicide."

Sherlock didn't answer. He tried to stop the trembling and the tears threatening to spill over but he knew he couldn't hold on to his composure forever.

"Better do it now. 'Genius needs an audience', hm?" He walked to the edge and peered over. "You've got one."

"Can I have just one moment of privacy?"

The consulting criminal laughed. "Oh, yes, better give him a call, eh?"

James Moriarty didn't leave the rooftop, but moved towards the exit door.

Sherlock took out his phone and dialed.

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"John."

"Sherlock! Where are you?"

~

"Stay right where you are! Keep your eyes fixed on me!"

~

"Nobody could be that clever."

"You could."

~

"This phone call, it's...it's my note. That's what people do, isn't it? Leave a note?"

"Leave a note when?"

~

"Goodbye, John."

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AN:

*hides under blankets for protection*

THIS STORY IS NOT OVER.

I hope I released a little bit of my inner Moffat!

Leave a comment and vote etc.

Bye~!

Red.

PS I cried as I wrote this.

PPS: Sequel?

PPPS: number one on the johnlock fics!!