An Unusual Situation

The man in room 237

Sherlock and John exchanged looks as the woman took off, turning left down the hallway.

"Hey John...Jawn" Sherlock whispered, tugging on John's sleeve softly. "I'm eighty six percent sure the man were about to meet is a serial killer."

John stopped walking, suddenly aware of the dim lights and thick walls. It reminded him of the Shining..."Jeeze, Sherlock. Why didn't you think to mention that before?"

"Well...I wasn't sure until now." Sherlock answered, urging John to continue walking.

John continued walking, it was partly because he didn't want to be in the hallway alone. That, and he felt sort of bad watching Sherlock try and drag him through the hallways. His cute little hands could barely wrap around John's waist, and with all Sherlock's power, John barely felt a tug.

The woman stopped, and John had to mutter, "You've got to be kidding me," as she opened the door to room two thirty seven.

It was dark as John walked inside, subconsciously stepping closer to Sherlock in an almost protective motion. The door was shut behind them by the lady, and as John fought back the urge to scream like a six year old and start pounding on the doors, a deep chuckle echoed in the room.

He squinted his eyes, waiting for his vision to adjust to the darkness. His eyes managed to cram together the outline of desks, drawers, what looked like a bed, and a large figure, sitting on a chair.  

"You two look adorable," A gruff, scratchy voice drawled.

John felt Sherlock step forward, bumping into John's leg slightly as he said, "Wish I could say the same to you. It's cute, the darkness, by the way. So we can't see you. You're either very self conscious of your obesity, or your identity is precious too you. I'm guessing on both."

"I heard you've got a smart mouth," The man said stiffly, "How's it been being so...tiny? How many lollipops have the adults offered you?"

"Probably as many as they're trying to keep you from eating, you fat-" 

"Sherlock," John interrupted, "Shut it." 

The man chuckled, "I admire your bravery. However, it would be much easier if I didn't have to talk to you, I don't have a good reputation with children." 

It was silent for a few short moments, then John felt Sherlock jump and grab onto his legs, as if trying to balance himself. Slowly, his tiny frame inched down to the floor, until he was on his back. 

"Sherlock!" John quickly knelt down, feeling for Sherlock's shoulders and shaking them. He was breathing, but slowly, and didn't respond to anything John said.

"Don't worry, you're baby detective is fine. I've been meaning to talk to you, and I'm afraid your boy would interrupt it."

John pulled Sherlock into his arms, standing back up as he glared into the darkness, "Well, you should have called, or maybe texted. I much prefer that."

"But face-to-face is so much more fun. Now, let's get this over with. I assume you're aware of your partners...condition."

"No," John drawled sarcastically, "I actually hadn't noticed."

"Well that's rather tragic, isn't it. Anyway, I've decided to help you. I know how to restore Sherlock to his normal self, and I would be willing to give you the antidote." The voice spoke smoothly, casually. John could tell this man was good at persuasion.

John refused to let the man know his heart had began pounding, and his mind began swaying slightly, "So you've decided to talk to me? Shouldn't Sherlock be the one you're talking too?"

"I thought so, but you seem more...aware of Sherlock's needs. He doesn't really care about his well-being, but I know you do. I know you would be willing to make hard decisions if it means saving your friend. I know you have a dark side, and I know you try to hide it. But sometimes darkness is the only course of action."

John gripped Sherlock tighter, "What is it, then? What do you want me to do? I know you're not going to give me the antidote for free."

"You're not completely stupid after all. It's true, I do require something before I give you what you need."

"Need?" John pressed out a fake laugh, "What makes you think I need you? I have friends who are working on an antidote, I'd rather wait longer for a cure then get it now and have to do something horrible in return."

"You might not think that, especially when I tell you Sherlock doesn't have forever." The man paused, probably to heighten John's interest, "I've just boosted Sherlock's infection. He's going to de-age more...quickly. If you don't get a cure soon, Sherlock will go from a kid, to a child, to a baby, and then poof! He'll cease to exist. Are you interested in what I have to say, now?"

John looked down at Sherlock. He couldn't see him clearly, but he could feel Sherlock twisting and shaking in his arms, "What...is it you want me to do, anyway?"

The man laughed, again. "It's simple, really. I need you to merely collect some...information from me. I want to know Jamen Cassius's whereabouts, and I want access to Mycroft Holmes security."

John forced a laugh out and reached for the handle behind him. "Of course not! I'll find a cure for Sherlock on my own, I don't need you. I can make do on my own. Now, as lovely as this has been, I've got things to...attend to."

He opened the door, and light immediately flooded his vision. Before he shut the room too the door, the man muttered, "You'll be back, and the cost will be greater then."