"Sherlock!"
Oh, God! He didn't hear me, Sherlock didn't hear me!
Watson stood trapped on the other side of the school feeling more helpless then he ever had in Afghanistan as he watched Sherlock being controlled by the murderer.
It was a horrible feeling knowing that a guy who usually solved cases in less than an hour, couldn't even save himself, and knowing that he couldn't help the fool was really doing wonders for his mind at the moment.
Time was ticking down as Watson contemplated his next move. The ever growing fear in the pit of his stomach seemed to sky rocket when Sherlock brought the pill closer to his mouth.
Watson stared at his friend; yes Sherlock was his friend even though they only met a day ago. And in that day, he had learned more about the man then he had in a lifetime with his sister. It was an odd kind of relationship, but he cherished it. Though, it was all going to fall apart if he couldn't figure out a way to save his flat mate from the psycho cabbie.
"If only I had your mind, Sherlock," Watson mumbled as he paced around. "I'd have a plan developed and would know what the guy fricking ate before he got here." Watson laughed at his joke, seeing as how it calmed him down for a moment.
During his pacing, Watson had flung his jacket aside, only now realizing the gun he had taken from his old flat.
"God, I am so stupid! It's a wonder he hadn't kicked me out after analyzing my life."
With new animation, he took the gun out of his pants waistband, and clicked the safety off. As he aimed the gun towards the cabbie's heart, Watson was instantly transported back to his time in the war. Every noise, every breath the two took, he caught it.
He had the gun cocked and loaded, but he couldn't shoot. His left hand began to tremor, and it hindered him from getting a clear shot.
"No, not now! Not when Sherlock finally needs me," Watson seethed, seeing the two in the other room becoming dangerously close to killing each other.
Watson gaped. "Why am I such a nuisance to everyone? The one person in my life that finally doesn't hate me is going to kill himself and I can't do anything about it!"
A silent tear ran down Watson's cheek as he commanded,even yelled at himself to stop shaking.
"Watson,stop it, please stop shaking,dammit!"
No one but him would know the terror that ran through his brain when Sherlock put the pill to his lips. And no one but him would know that he, at that moment, stopped shaking enough to make a warriors shot right into the chest of the cabbie.