The Prince - Johnlock

36

A/N I literally saw that my first chapter of this book had at least 32 reads and I am really confused on where the fuck they came from... okay continue on with the story. P.s, what ship do you want me to write about after this book. I got a lot of ideas. 

John didn't care about his two bleeding shoulders. His face was twisted in worry. 

The only things running through his mind was Sherlock. 

Where was he? 

Was he okay?

Who took him? 

Is he... is he dead?

The last one made John want to cry. But he didn't.

He wouldn't cry. 

"How are you doing?", a voice asked. 

John jumped up in his bed at the shock. He didn't expect anyone to be there. He didn't expect anyone at all. 

He turned to the door to see Greg standing there. 

His once proud hand now reduced to a bloody mess only being held together by some bandages. 

"I... I just want Sherlock back", John whimpered out. 

Greg sighed and hobbled over to John. He crawled onto the bed and gently took John's hand. 

It wasn't in a romantic way. We know this because there hearts are tied to other people. 

"We will get him back... I promise", Greg whispered the last part. Because even if he was a hopeful man, he didn't have that much hope. 

John cleared his throat and asked, "What about Mycroft? What about the king and queen? Are they okay?".

"The queen got her shoulders banged up, just like yours. The king lost his eye but he miraculously made an okay recovery. And Mycroft... Mycroft is resting fine, but he hasn't said a word and it's worrying me. Usually when he has an injury, even if it is a big or tiny one, he will be whining like a small child. He's just... just to silent", Greg finished. 

After that the two sat in silence. 

But even if the silence stretched on, John's mind was making a plan.