Run
disclaimer :
Sherlock Holmes and any characters in it © Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, as TV series by BBC
I gained no financial advantages from this fanfiction.
warning :
Modified Canon, taken from the third episode of season 1, The Great Game.
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"Sherlock, run!"
The moment John Watson grabbed Moriarty with such unpredictable bravery made Sherlock froze. Not the fact that, John might make the dumbest decision by threatening the most dangerous person in the block. But, the fact that John bid his life to save him. John, the one who wore the explosive jacket but yet he defended Sherlock. He tried to save him.
"Good, very good."
The sickening laughter busted out. Moriarty enjoyed himself, tangled in such unfortunate position. Sherlock had no idea, whether he enjoyed the fact that John defends him or the fact that there's nothing Sherlock can do to undo what John had done.
"He's sweet." Moriarty said. He made a kiss-alike-sound, definitely enjoyed the situation between them. "I can see why you like having him around."
Once, Sherlock defined this Jim Moriarty as disgusting gay. He even warned Molly Hopper about this, later that John corrected him out. The way Moriarty described the relation between Sherlock and John, seemed so wrong, yet so right.
Still strangled from John, Moriarty hissed his words. "But then, people get so sentimental about their pets—"
For a second, Sherlock was aware that he might accidentally pull the trigger. Pets. No. John is not his pet. John is his friend. His best friend. His partner. No one can ever say anything like that about John. Unsteadily, Sherlock held his gun, pretending that no words affected him.
"They're so touchingly loyal." Moriarty continued. The wide smile upon his lips sickening. "Oops! You've rather shown your hand there, Dr. Watson."
Something flashed on John's face. Sherlock wondered whether he showed the same emotion as his when he saw the sniper aimed John.
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Later, when finally Moriarty let the things out, Sherlock reached out John with surprisingly steady face. Even John wondered what had gone through inside the man who took his explosive jacket off of himself. The man whose his hand trembled while ripping the damned jacket off. What had gone through Sherlock's mind?
"Oh, Christ—" John sighed out his scariness. "Ffff—are you okay?"
Funny that he questioned Sherlock the question that the man with mind-palace should ask to his partner. About five seconds of disorientation, Sherlock smiled awkwardly.
"Me? Yeah. Fine. I'm fine. Fine."
John raised this eyebrows, realized that it was uncommon for Sherlock to repeat his words. He must be shocked. Pretty shocked, considering his trembling hands.
Sherlock coughed a little. "That, uh, thing that you, uh, you did that, um—"
"Yes?" Uncontrollably, John smiled.
"—you offered to do, that was, um… good."
This time, John swore that Sherlock blushed. He can see that red face under the dim light of the swimming pool's lamps. Unexpectedly, he laughed.
"Well, I'm glad no one saw that."
Sherlock cocked his head. Confusion's drawn over his face. "Mm?"
"You are ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool." John stressed in ripping my clothes off. He couldn't help but showed his widest smile. In his relief, Sherlock replies with his own widest smile (the cutest one, if John could say).
"People do little else."
Nothing's eager John to his nerves, more that wearing the most like-to-explode jacket. But he knew some more. He's eager to see Sherlock, smile. The moment John screamed Sherlock to run is the top of his worries about his safety —even above his own safety itself. Now, that he smiled beside him, John just wished one thing. That he would never tell Sherlock to run. To save himself. Because now that they are together. They are alive. And that's what matters.
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fin
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a/n :
So excited with the coming of S4!
Ahhh, can't wait! xD
So, I just modified this from the canon. Little lame, I know.
I don't even have any idea what I entitled this, Run. Seriously.