Following the sociopath (Sher/Johnlock one-shots)

The murderer's basement

"Way to go Sherlock, you've really done it this time haven't you?!" John screams.

"Calm down Jo-"

"Calm down? CALM DOWN! WE ARE LOCKED IN THE BLOODY BASEMENT OF A SERIAL KILLER, THIS IS NOT OKAY SHERLOCK!" John's voice practically makes the whole basement vibrate. There was nothing. Nothing at all in this little basement. It was about fifty feet underground and had no windows, no cell service, no furniture, the only thing it had was a secret door that was locked and could only be opened from the outside by a series of codes, one including a thumbprint detector. How we managed to get in to this mess, neither of us knew. I looked around me desperately trying to figure out to how to get us out before our killer came. He told us forty minutes, and from what we've seen he is never late. I saw a small round hole in the ceiling letting in a small cylinder of light. It wasn't natural light, obviously. Someone must have put a small flashlight over it. It emitted just enough light that I could see the main features of John's face, but that was about it. I didn't like to make John feel stressed or tensed up, but that's the way he's been acting a lot lately. I don't know what's caused this change in him. I didn't like it either. But right now I had to focus on our current problem. If only I could figure out a way to get up to that hole and maybe dislocate some of the surrounding ceiling. That's when I came up with an idea. "John. Come here and step up on my hands." I said bending down beneath the hole and locking my hands together like a step. He looked at me doubtfully. "Are you sure this is a good idea Sherlock?" he asked.

"Yes, now hurry up." I said getting impatient. He shrugs and walks over and tests his weight on my hands before fully stepping on. I pull my hands up and raise him as high as I could manage. He peers through the hole with one eye. "I can't see anything, Sherlock. Only a bunch of light." He says. "Try to reach your finger up there and knock over the light. Then push on the ceiling around it." I tell him looking up at where he's standing on my hands. He has to stand on his tip toes to do this and he starts to wobble. I steady him as best I can, but it doesn't help much. John loses his footing and his shoes breaks right through my locked fingers. I catch him before his feet touch the ground and it comes to mind that we probably looked like we were a couple embracing. I had John locked in my arms, his feet dangling off the ground, and our faces only an inch or so apart. John's face quickly grows red. Did I make him uncomfortable? I wondered. I looked into his eyes and saw they were dilated. That could be just the dim lighting though. I put one of my hands on his chest, as if to help him down and felt that his pulse was indeed racing, given the situation that wasn't surprising, but John is an army man and has been in more dangerous situations. Could he possibly like me? No. John was straight. Nobody could possibly ever like me. It just couldn't happen. I set John down and looked at him. He stared back. "Well, I guess we're stuck for a while eh?" John asks slightly breathless.

"Yeah. He'll be here in about twenty minutes, but he won't kill us immediately. He'll want to talk, boast and brag about how clever he is and how he's going to do it. That will give us time to overtake us and knock him unconscious before we can get a gun and call in Lestrade." I say. I wasn't worried. We sit down on the floor cross legged beside each other. I could feel John had something to say, but just wasn't saying it. "John, what's on your mind? I know it's something." I asked him.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it." He say.

"No, really. Tell me. I can hear you thinking, it's getting rather annoying."

"It's just that, I like you Sherlock. A lot." John admits, looking down. Did I hear him right?

"Say that again." I instruct him.

"No, you've already heard me say it once." He says embarrassed.

"No, say it or I won't tell you what I think."

"I don't think I want to know." John says. I give him the look that says he better do as I tell him.

"Sherlock, I-I like you." He says once again. "Now, as promised; what do you think of me? Do you like me at all?" John sounded nervous.

"No John Watson. I don't like you, "I saw his face fall in the dim light, but continued talking. "I love you." I say honestly and lean in to kiss my blogger. He replies with a shocked gasp but leans into the kiss anyways. I could feel him smile against my mouth and I smiled back. A couple minutes later we broke apart, both gasping for air. Once we got our breath back John says; "I love you too, Sherlock Holmes." Hearing that made my heart melt and my grin stretch all the way across my face.

Not long after the serial killer waltz in. His name was Charles. He smiles as us. "Well hello there Sherly. It's nice to see you again, nice little stunt you pulled there, knowing your little DI would know something was up if you called him by his real name. Ha! Well I'm not going to be that gullible this time. I've got both you and your boyfriend here with me. And no cops are ever going to find us, are they Sherl?" Charles boasts. He pulls out his knife and steps up to face John. "Dr. Watson will die first so you will have to watch your only friend die slowly before your eyes and you won't be able to do anything about it." He said matter -of -factly. He is now only two inches away from John's face. He is making me nervous. I step impossibly closer to John and grab his hand. John squeezes it back. Just then Charles makes the move to plunge his knife into John's chest, right over his heart. I let go of his hand and knock him forward, taking the blow for him. John lets out a shout. "Sherlock!" he drops to his knees, but Charles yanks him roughly back up. I try to stand back up, but it was nearly impossible. I knew I was going to die. I just wanted John to be the last thing I see. I watch them from my position on the ground. Charles does the unthinkable and shoves his blade next to John's heart and he falls right beside me, shocked. I painfully turn to face my doctor. "Sherlock, I love you." John says for the second time that day. There are tears in his eyes as well as there are in mine.

"Me too, goodbye John." I whisper, loosing strength all too quickly. John was fighting it better than I was.

"Don't say that like you're going to die. Okay?" he asks me.

"Okay." I force out with my last breath. I died happy. I got my wish, John was the last thing I saw before I closed my eyes and there was fighting chance that he would be able to survive and hopefully kill that retched Charles.

(A/N: So yeah I felt a little mean in this one, but us Sherlockians are used to writers being mean, right? Anyways in case you're wondering, I did bring back Charles from one of my previous stories. This one he had just gotten out of jail and transformed into a serial killer that the police hadn't been able to nail yet. I hoped you liked that and it didn't cause too many feels. Until next time,

~Em)