Pretty obvious, but this is set during The Hound of Baskerville Episode if you squint – I changed it a bit; I do not own any of the characters or the BBC material, this is purely for my readers' enjoyment, and lets face it, mine too!
Behind the Scenes
"Is yours a snorer?" The small blonde barman asked.
"Got any crisps?" John asked promptly, no longer denying what everyone thought about the Consulting Detective and the ex -Army Doctor.
Once John had scoffed his bacon flavoured crisps, he grabbed his and Sherlock's drinks, heading out into the sunshine of the beer garden.
Sherlock was sitting on a picnic bench and talking to the young tour guide. John sat down opposite his friend and quickly caught onto the trail of Sherlock's acting. Playing along was easy, it was easier now than it was at first, mainly because Sherlock had started off by acting alone – always leaving John out in the cold to stand beside him awkwardly, but now, Sherlock involved John every way he could on an investigation. This time, he got fifty pounds out of it. Score.
"So what are we going to do now?" John asked, popping the fifty pounds into his wallet.
Sherlock focussed on him with an icy cold stare. Sherlock always stared more than was necessary, John was again, more comfortable with this now than he was when he had first met the eccentric genius.
"We need to visit our client" Sherlock stated before taking a sip of his lime and soda water.
They shared a comfortable silence in the sunshine as they finished their drinks and headed back to their hired Land Rover.
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Later that night, John walked back to the pub alone, he followed the main single track road in the dark with only his torch to guide him. He was anxious to get back to Sherlock, had he really seen what their scared-to-death client had seen? Why had Sherlock run off back to the pub without stopping to say goodnight to their delicate client with him?
Finally he reached the warm entrance to the pub and promptly found Sherlock at the fireplace, in the bar?
"Here's me thinking you had never set foot in a pub" John chuckled as he sat down heavily on the armchair opposite the taller man and was amazed at just how much this place reminded him of home at 221B.
Sherlock didn't reply.
John used his new found observation talents to deduce his friend;
Dram of whisky – a shock remedy, shaking hand – physical sign of stress, red skin around his eyes – could be sign of many things; upset, drunk, stressed etc.
Sherlock was sweating; his usually immaculate head of curls was now in disarray and slightly stuck to his forehead, he was blinking rapidly and staring at his shaking hand.
John leaned forward.
"Sherlock, did you see something out there?" John questioned quietly.
Sherlock remained quiet, he glanced up at John, just for a split second, but it was enough for John to spot vulnerability.
Sherlock downed his glass and stared at the glowing fire for a minute or two before whispering;
"Upstairs".
The consulting detective promptly got to his feet and made briskly for the stairs.
John remained seated for a minute before jumping up in hot pursuit, puzzled and worried, he followed his friend up the staircase.
Behind the bar, the tall bearded owner winked at the shorter blonde chef knowingly.
John entered their room; he closed the large oak door behind him and pushed across the lock. He sighed as he saw that the owners had given them a double room, despite their apologies about not having any left.
Sherlock sat on the edge of the bed; he had removed his shoes, socks and suit jacket. He looked so forlorn and John couldn't help but be drawn in to comfort his friend.
Sitting beside Sherlock, John patted his back with his hand soothingly.
"I saw it, John" Sherlock said shakily, looking down at his bare feet. "A gigantic hound." Sherlock's tone was one of fear and anguish.
John's eyebrows furrowed as his hand stopped its soothing motion on his colleague's back, he looked down at him quizzically.
"Sherlock, why did you tell that poor man that you hadn't seen it? He is bordering on mentally insane!" John questioned incredulously.
"I don't trust my eyes, John." Sherlock looked up at John then, his grey-blue eyes wet and panicked. "For the first time in my life, I don't trust my eyes".
John stared at the incredible man before him, reduced to a frightened child at the thought of not being able to deduce.
"Now, you listen here, Sherlock, we will get to the bottom of this, we always do. There is nothing wrong with you, everything will look better in the morning" John said in his calmest voice watching as the man's gaze returned to his own feet.
"John, I saw a very, very large hairless hound, it was glowing. Surely, that kind of animal cannot exist!" Sherlock said defensively.
"Why don't we have a nosy in Baskerville tomorrow?" John questioned with an amused smile, hoping to cheer up the defeated detective.
Sherlock smiled faintly and turned his face back to John.
"I know just how to get us in" He said coolly.
"Good, now, I suggest we get some rest, you need to sleep that whisky off before I dare get anywhere near that Land Rover with you at the wheel." John nudged Sherlock's shoulder with his own playfully and Sherlock smiled once more. They stood from the bed and began their evening rituals, brushing teeth and changing clothes.
John clambered into the right hand side of the large oak framed double bed; he lay down against the soft pillows with a groan and pulled the fresh duvet up to his chin. He heard the shower being turned on and listened calmly to his friend washing away his fears.
Sherlock appeared from the bathroom five minutes later, towel drying his hair, another towel around his waist.
To John's surprise the detective sat down on the bed next to him, still drying his hair.
Even more to John's surprise, it strikes him instinctively to return his hand to Sherlock's back, continuing to rub those soothing circles lazily into warm the skin he found there.
Sherlock had stopped his attentions to his hair as he allowed John's touch to calm him. He wasn't used to being touched, but it seemed to be what his body currently craved as he carefully laid down beside John on the little ledge that was left on the mattress.
"Get your pyjamas on, Sherlock, you'll go to sleep quicker if you are comfortable." John explained quietly, he stopped his hands' motion and gave Sherlock a gentle nudge.
The taller man reluctantly got up from the comfortable mattress and made his way back to the bathroom, his whole body language weak and tired.
John shifted over to the far away side of the bed when Sherlock returned, letting the taller man have the pre-warmed sheets and mattress.
Wordlessly, Sherlock resumed his position under the sheets as John resumed his light tickling of Sherlock's back.
Slowly, the pair drifted off into a calm and dreamless sleep without setting the next morning's alarm.
Sherlock woke calmly and quietly, there was no panic, no mad ideas running through his head, no experiments ticking over in the back of his brain. He was possibly the most calm he had ever been.
There was a firm and warm arm draped over his waist that wasn't his own. He observed his own reactions to what he was able to feel.
The slight dusting of hair on John's arm – unmoving, he is at a comfortable temperature and most likely still asleep. Sherlock could feel John's knees cupped in behind his own, actually, come to think of it he could feel every inch of John's body pressed up against his back, and he liked it. John's nose was nestled into Sherlock's hair resulting in a regular warm breeze down his neck.
Sherlock had a sudden desire to turn around and observe his sleeping colleague, however, the fear of waking him – not an issue he had experienced previously – made Sherlock stay still, prolonging the experience for as long as his waking brain would allow.
Eventually, Sherlock's brain was screaming, reeling and rolling, requiring mystery and requiring action. Sherlock reluctantly lifted John's arm from his bare chest and sat up awkwardly.
"Where ya goin'?" John sleepily said.
Sherlock turned to John as he sat on the edge of the bed.
"We are on a case, John" Sherlock said gently, smiling down at the sleepy doctor.
"Case can wait" John said dismissively, raising an arm out and outstretching his hand towards Sherlock.
"Unfortunately not, John, we need to get to the bottom of this Hound" Sherlock said as he stood up and walked towards the bathroom.
John watched him go sadly; he had had the best night's sleep of his life, firmly locked around his wild flatmate. John assumed this was because he could keep an eye on the sociopath, no new holes in walls and no screeching violin in the early hours. But deep down, he knew it was more, he was selfishly enjoying the fact that Sherlock had needed him.
Sherlock returned to the bedside, immaculately washed and dressed.
"Come on John, get up, shall I order your breakfast downstairs?" Sherlock asked in his usual baritone.
John sat up and rubbed at his eyes, he looked back up at Sherlock, his dark blue eyes now bleary and red. He nodded gratefully before reaching for the corner of the duvet and clambering out of the sheets.
Sherlock smiled. "See you outside" he said as he retreated to the door, grabbing his coat and scarf he left the good doctor to it and bounded down the steps to the bar.
"Good Morning" He greeted the bar tenders happily. "Can I please have a full English breakfast, a pot of tea and a black coffee?" He reeled off to the short blonde.
"We'll bring it out" The taller bearded man interjected. Sherlock looked between the two and smiled briefly before walking out into the afternoon sunshine.
"Don't need to tell me that gay is the way" The short blonde whispered to his partner. "I think that is evidence enough!"
"Certainly didn't have the heart to tell him breakfast was over two hours ago" The bar owner answered with a smile.
Sherlock sat at the picnic bench in the sunlight, his coat and scarf unnecessary, sitting beside him unused. He watched as John approached the table, obviously having picked up his breakfast.
The place was empty, not even one of the tours were gathered around the entrance to the homely pub.
"Had no idea of the time" John laughed as he took a seat opposite Sherlock.
"Yes, we did sleep in a bit" Sherlock muttered as he looked up to the sky.
"So, you don't…learn about the solar system….but you do learn about…the time of day by the sun" John said between bites of his hot food.
"It's important to know what time of day it is without a watch, John. Surely the military taught you that" Sherlock said dismissively.
John smiled, they were as normal; last night hadn't changed a thing.
"No, my scout leader taught me that" John said with a smile before he popped a corner of an egg in his mouth.
Sherlock returned the smile widely.
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"Oh please, can you not do that" John said dismissively.
"What?" Sherlock questioned, genuinely at a loss as to what his colleague meant.
"You, being all mysterious with your cheekbones, and turning your collar up to look cool" Sherlock stared down at his friend incredulously.
"I don't do that" Sherlock stated.
"Yes you do!" John called as he climbed into the passenger side of the vehicle.
Sherlock smiled, he knew he did this, and he now knew how it affected John.
"John, we need to get back into Baskerville tonight." Sherlock stated half way back to their pub.
"Well, we'll just have dinner and then go, how are we going to get back inside?" John asked curiously.
Sherlock parked up the dark 4x4 in the car park to the pub and pulled his phone out of his pocket;
"Dear brother, how are you?" Sherlock drawled into the phone.
John smiled and rolled his eyes.
"I've negotiated 12 hours in the labs. John, go down to that first lab we were in earlier. Keep your eyes peeled, use this key card, its access all areas. Report back to me with anything you find" Sherlock briefed John before disappearing into the head office.
John softly marched down the corridors, his back straight, his stance reading Military from head to foot; he took the lift and selected the appropriate level. John was very aware that he was currently unarmed, a stupid thing to have done, left his weapon in their room at the inn. He settled once his hand found an item in his pocket; he had Sherlock with him if he had his mobile phone.
John wasn't scared when the alarms were activated and the lights went out. He wasn't scared when the doors were automatically shut down. He was scared when he saw the empty cage with the forced bars.
He clambered into an empty cage and pulled the latch across the gate, hiding himself with the cage cover. He sat down on the far side, his back pushed into the metal bars as he surveyed his parameters with controlled breathing. He had heard it. He had heard the hound.
"Sherlock, it's in here, it's in here with me" he whispered into the phone.
"John, where are you? Tell me where you are" Sherlock said down the phone.
"In the lab, I'm in the first lab that we were in" John panicked.
"I'll find you. Can you see it John?" Sherlock whispered.
"No, but I can hear it, please Sherlock, help me" John whimpered.
"John, can you see it?" Sherlock demanded through the phone.
Just then John saw a large black object approaching the cage. It was huge with glowing skin and red eyes. John's eyes began to water with fear as he locked eyes with the beast.
"Yes, I can see it" John confirmed in a defeated tone, this was it; this was how he was going to die.
With a growls roar, the lights were on and Sherlock opened the cage.
"It's ok John" Sherlock said gently extending his arm out to help John up from the floor.
"No, Sherlock, it's not ok! It was here Sherlock, it was here!" John shouted angrily scanning the area wildly.
Sherlock took one look at the frightened Army Doctor in front of him and felt instantly guilty. Without being really aware of his actions he extended his arms out and wrapped them protectively around his friend's back, bringing his left hand to rest on the shorter man's neck.
John didn't resist, he just stood, breathing deeply into Sherlock's scarf.
"Its ok, John, it wasn't real, you've been drugged, we've all been drugged, it was a hallucination. We saw what we expected to see" Sherlock cooed gently, letting his cheek rest on top of the shorter man's head.
At this John let out a sob, he grasped Sherlock's coat in both of his hands and kept the Consulting Detective close.
Sherlock's eyes widened;
"You got quite a fright, didn't you?" He asked numbly, letting his left hand gently stroke the transition of hair to skin on John's neck. John nodded into Sherlock's scarf and sniffed attempting to pull himself together. Sherlock had no idea what his own body was doing apart from betraying his mind mostly.
"I'm sorry, I just, was so ready. Oh…" John let out a breath "Thank you for coming" he continued as he took in a deep breath and pulled away slightly from his tall friend.
Sherlock smiled, he let go of his friend and straightened out his scarf.
"You sure you're ok?" Sherlock asked hesitantly, noticing John's body trembling and deep breathing racking his chest.
"Yep, fine" John dismissed; he coughed a little awkwardly and wiped at his face determinedly.
"Come on, let's go and see a woman about bluebell." Sherlock said lightly, smiling to John before walking at his side toward the exit. John had one last nervous look around the now brightly lit lab before he closed the door firmly behind them.
John knew that the "Get out, I need to go to my Mind Palace" was not directed at him, but he still left the lab anyway. Sherlock visited the Mind Palace if the room was empty or if the only other person in it was John. John supposed it was a trust issue.
Just as he walked around the corner with the professor, explaining the 'mind palace' he heard Sherlock's footsteps approaching quickly.
"John" Sherlock said as he walked past, heading for the door, not looking at anything else.
John thanked the professor loosely and ran to catch up with Sherlock.
"Where are we going?" John asked, panting slightly at the effort to keep up with the lanky detective.
"Back to the hollow. I need to examine the paw prints" Sherlock said smartly as he climbed into their Land Rover.
John couldn't suppress the shiver that fell down his spine. He wanted to go back to the pub, have some dinner and a cup of tea, the last thing he wanted to do, was face that beast; real or not.
On the walk down to the hollow, Sherlock was in overdrive, extremely alert and ready for any attack or sign of hallucinogen. In his peripheral vision he could see John visibly shaking, the torch beam suffering from the pressure.
Sherlock understood the human condition; he needed a variable to calm his friend down, keep his alertness up and his fear away. Sherlock gently reached a gloved hand out and wordlessly took hold of John's free hand.
As far as he knew it was not a romantic attachment or gesture; it was a friend comforting a friend, is that not what friends do?
John was taken aback at first, but realised how much he needed support at this moment, so he held Sherlock back. John smiled and felt childish, holding Sherlock's hand as two children would in the school playground whilst playing; pretending to be scared of a big imaginary beast.
Eventually, John's phone began to ring; John reluctantly broke the contact with his friend to answer it. It was the therapist; something had happened.
"Lestrade, meet us at the hollow, quickly, do not come unarmed." Sherlock stated on his own phone, he then hung up, grabbed John's hand once more and ran toward the hollow.
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John ensured their client's safety as Sherlock ran an expert eye over the deceased dog and gave Lestrade a statement before the pair headed back to the pub.
It was very late and the main door was locked, the pair had to ring the doorbell for the attention of the owner.
The bearded man smiled as he opened the door welcomingly.
"Well, if it isn't our two favourite guests" He said brightly. "Wow, you look like you've had an adventure today." He stated looking the pair up and down.
Sherlock and John eventually made it to their room and John collapsed onto the freshly made bedspread. Sherlock smiled weakly at his friend's groan as he removed his coat and made his way to the tea tray on the desk. He boiled the kettle and made two cups of steaming hot tea before gently handing a cup to his friend. Sherlock sat on the empty side of the bed and continued to drink his tea slowly, staring at the wall quietly.
"You said, 'no, not here, not now'" John stated, rolling the back of his head against the headboard to look at his colleague.
"What?" Sherlock asked, snapping out of his reverie.
"When we were in the hollow, and our…now blown-up, suspect appeared; you said 'no, not here, not now'" John repeated in a small voice. "What did you see?"
"What did you see?" Sherlock asked interestedly.
John blushed and looked down at his mug of tea. "I saw a Cyberman." John whispered, not making eye contact with the consulting detective.
Sherlock let out a snigger before he smiled at John; "I said Doctor Who would give you nightmares" he said quietly. "I saw Moriarty." he continued in a firm whisper.
John turned to Sherlock, a look of awe written clearly upon his face.
"What, John? That look is really not becoming on you" Sherlock said in his normal voice level.
"So you fear him, then?" John asked quietly.
"I do not fear him per say. I fear what he is in control of" Sherlock said thoughtfully, draining his cup and placing it quietly on the bedside table.
"What? The criminal activity you mean?" John questioned lightly.
"No, the people he can manipulate, the plans he has to 'burn the heart out of me'" Sherlock said with a tight smile at his friend. "Whatever he has in wait, it's sure to be very unpleasant and will not only affect me."
John's heart sank. What did he mean? It would affect more than just him. Maybe it meant that Moriarty, being a true psychopath, would target him through his family. Mycroft, but then, Mycroft is not as close to Sherlock as Mrs Hudson was, hell even Lestrade was closer to Sherlock than Mycroft, but closest of all, was John.
"Me" John whispered.
Sherlock's ice blue stare fixed itself on John then, looking through his dark blue eyes carefully.
"Yes" Sherlock said hesitantly. "But, I will not let anything hurt you, Doctor Watson, not if I can help it." He said with another tight lipped smile. "Come, let's get some rest, I slept rather well last night, not sure about you though". Sherlock's change in conversation had the desired affect and John smiled.
"I slept better than I have for years" John replied truthfully as he drained his own tea and stood to go to the bathroom.
Sherlock smiled then, he knew John had slept well, but it always amused him to ask and to hear John tell him the truth always gave him enjoyment.
Sherlock stripped his own clothing down to his white boxers and silently slipped into the bed, he lay staring at the ceiling for some time before John came out of the bathroom, cotton pyjamas covering his skin self consciously.
The room was silent as John clambered into the sheets on the opposite side of the bed and mirrored Sherlock's position. After a while, Sherlock spoke to the darkness surrounding them.
"Is it a big scar?" He asked curiously.
"What?" John asked, confused.
"Your shoulder, is it a big scar?" Sherlock asked again.
John smiled and reached out to the bedside table light, the middle of the room illuminated with the soft glow.
"Why do you want to know?" John queried, sitting up and looking down at his companion.
"Just interested" Sherlock shrugged.
"You've probably worked out what kind of surface area a shrapnel bullet can make just by the way I hold a book with my left hand" John smirked.
"By the way you hold your tea cup actually, but I'm still interested. I've never seen it" Sherlock stated matter-of-factly.
John sighs and unbuttons his night shirt; he pulls off the shoulder closest to his flatmate. Sherlock stands up instantly and reaches his coat, finding his magnifying glass he heads back to bed, John notices his distinct lack of clothing as the man kneeled on the mattress close to John. Sherlock ran the magnifying glass over the silvery skin of the 6 by 10cm stretch scar.
Sherlock let a hum escape his throat as he sat down again beside John. "Nasty one" he said calmly, placing the magnifying glass on the nightstand beside the empty teacup.
"If you can survive a shot like that, I have nothing to worry about" Sherlock smiled.
John smiled then; he let his hand search for Sherlock's within the sheets and gave it a brief squeeze.
"I'm not going anywhere, Sherlock" Sherlock swallowed hard and looked up at his new bedtime companion.
John smiled and snuggled down within the sheets once more, leaning over slightly to switch off the bedside lamp.
As the two were engulfed in darkness once more, John turned on his side, his back to Sherlock; it was after all natural for him to sleep on his right side. Sherlock scooted up behind him and mirrored John's actions of the previous morning. Draping his arm protectively over the open shirted chest, he pressed his body up to John's back, making him feel protected and safe.
That night was the second of the best nights sleep the pair had ever had.