The Worshippers - Teenlock

Chapter 34 - my dearest darling

oops starting a new chapter before the other one is published becasue someone's pov is too much of a limited narrative perspective to write from (mr harrison are you proud)

also i genuinely cannot get enouh writing john and sherlock as really close friends. like i dont know why i just fucking adore this friendship that ive created it makes my heart cry

also please dont expect this to be an accurate representation of how wounds and blood work. yknow like. its just dramatic. roll with it.

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Chapter 34

Sherlock's POV

The taxi ride back was quiet, i made sure to sit on the side of john's injured arm so that wendy wouldnt accident bump into him and question him further. 

My phoned buzzed just as we got to Baskerville. "Wendy, im afraid john and i have business with my brother, do you mind walking up the drive?"

"ugh fiiinnneee" We waved goodbye and the taxi driver started the engine again, driving with no particular instructions. I turned to my friend.

"John, take off your shirt."

He recoiled slightly. "What??"

"I said, take off your shirt. No-one has looked at that wound except you and mycroft, id like to check it out."

He sighed, before reluctantly undoing the buttons and revealing the cut. It was bad, and badly wrapped as well. Mycroft was good at many things, but first aid was not one of them.

I tapped gently at his arm. A big mistake. John was in a lot of pain, and jerked it away, tearing the scab that had hesitantly began to seal the cut. "Fuck" i spoke under my breath. 

"weve fucking opened it up again havent we?" John said, panic starting to rise in him a little bit. He'd calmed me down a hundred times before, now it was my turn.

"John." i said fairly sternly. "Youre not going to die. Now we've got a choice. We either go back to the hospital and get it stitched up officially or we go to my meddling brother and get it done with a bit more privacy."

He looked at me before we both realised that the blood was starting to trickle down his arm again, more and more so with each second. I wrapped his discarded shirt around my hand and pressed down with one of my hands, and with the other, phoned my brother dear. John was definitely starting to become anxious and although iwas too, i knew that now was no time for that sort of thing, and so i pushed it back down.

"Mycroft...can you get a surgeon or doctor ready in 10?...your first aid was shit mycroft...no just...listen to me..." My brother was, as per the usual, being insufferable, and not realising the extent of my situation. I took a deep breath, and looked at john, who now had his head leant against the seat, trying his best to stay calm whilst he bled out, for the second time in two days. "Mycroft please." my voice was quiet. i sounded so much younger than i thought i was. "john is bleeding heavily, he needs stitches, not just a cheap bandage." The other end of the phone was silent, and all i heard was a quiet ok before he hung up.

I redirected the driver, and focused my attention back on pressuring the wound. THe blood was damping the shirt completely and so i urged the driver to speed up just a little bit.

Gigi's words that day in the woods when i was sulking rang back to me. (see Chapter 22-my life is falling apart for research)

You are not a policeman, or a detective, or a spy, sherlock.

You're a kid.

Do you fucking realise what you're doing to John?

Look at me. Look at me and tell me you care.

But in that moment i wasnt looking at gigi. i was looking at john. John, who was just another kid like me. Not a detective or spy. Someone that i had put in danger.

I was snapped out of my moment as the car came to a halt. Mycroft had already been waiting outside, and carried john inside the building, much like he'd carried me in my concussed state not 24 hours before.

John went straight onto a bed covered in plastic, and was surrounded by 5 people in hospital scrubs.

A sixth passed mycroft and said to him angrily "I wish you wouldnt call me out for such trivial things, you know-"

"You are paid,"  mycroft snarled, " to do this. now go do."

I would have liked to have stayed, perhaps comforted my closest friend, but mycroft walked me away into a different room, and i was too nervous and vulnerable to argue.

We reached a sitting room and mycroft closed the door. I could tell that he wanted to lecture me, but i beat him to speaking first.

"I cant do this anymore." I rushed my words. My brother was, unsurprisingly, quite taken aback.

"What do you mean sherlock?"

"I mean, look at whats happening. Laura is traumatised, molly is probably dead by now, greg is gone still, gigi has been drugged and put into hospital now twice, once probably because of me, and once definitely because of me. John has been fucking stabbed, and has almost bled out twice in 24 hours. I had to watch him panic in pain, mycroft, and i couldnt help because i had to repress my own panic."

Tears were falling from my eyes but i continued on. "Who will be next brother? Will it be wendy, will it be laura, gigi, another teacher, anthea..." I looked him directly in the eye. "will it be john? Will the next person to add to the list of the dead be john?"

He looked back at me with the same amount of determination, but didnt say a word.

"You've noticed by now havent you? I dont know if john has. These arent random occurrences. The person doing this, be it moriarty or someone bigger, is targeted people close to me, people close to john. How long will it be before we find out who it is and stop them?"

Mycroft tilted his head. "If you are saying 'we' refering to me and you, then the answer is no. 'We' are not going to stop them. You are. You and john."

"You're young brother. You're going to make mistakes. That is what i am here for. I am here for when you make mistakes, and need a safety net. But you are capable of this, and so much more."

He sat down next to me on the sofa. "Yes, your friends are hurt. But instead of whining about it like an injured pup, why dont you do something about it? Use that brain of yours to find out who you're dealing with, and stop them."

he was right. once again, he was right. My emotions were causing me to waste time. I went to stand, but mycroft grabbed my hand and pulled me back down. "But right now, brother dear, is not the time. Whether you want to admit it or not, you are a tired, and john will undoubtedly be staying the night anyway, so use your chance to get some sleep and reconvene with john in the morning.

i nodded, and followed him out of the sitting room, and down the corridor to my room. 

Mycroft stood at the door. "You know where i'll be if you need me." he turned to leave but i couldnt let him just yet.

"Brother..." I took a breath. What i was about to do, i had not done very often. "Uh...thank you."

i sounded awkward as i said it. He just nodded, and left. The feeling was conveyed.

I flopped down onto my bed, and realised how exhausted i was. Too much worrying, not enough recharging.

I fell asleep before i could even think about anything else.