I know it's short, but I don't think it's bad for my first Sherlock fanfic. Some of the sentences are pretty long and I know that. It's like that for a reason. These are John Watson's thoughts. I assumed that when his best friend is in mortal danger, he wouldn't be caring about run-on sentences.
Disclaimer: If I owned Sherlock, I wouldn't have done such a mean cliffhanger at the end of The Great Game. Oh wait...I lied, I probably would have. But I still don't own Sherlock.
John Watson races through the building as if his life depends on it. But it isn't his life that depends on his speed, it's Sherlock's. Sherlock Holmes, world's only consulting detective, a self-professed sociopath, and John's best friend. Damn it, if Sherlock dies… John stops that thought right there - is that how Sherlock feels when he "deletes" a feeling? - and continues to run. He can't allow that to distract him now. The ex-army doctor tries to run faster - his leg will punish him later, that's for sure - and finds himself draining reservoirs of strength he didn't know he had. But that didn't matter, he has to get to Sherlock, he has to get to Sherlock…
John skids to a stop in front of a window. The picture through it fills him with dread. Sherlock is studying two small jars with pills in them while another man watches. Instantly, John knows the other man must be the serial killer, who else would it be? Sherlock is looking at the pills very carefully. John wishes desperately that he could run into the other building in time to save the detective, but he knows that's not possible. He watches as Sherlock picks up a pill bottle and holds it up to the light. "SHERLOCK!" John screams, hoping against hope that his friend can somehow hear him - Sherlock never seems human, so why should he have human hearing? But Sherlock doesn't move. He's so close to opening the pill bottle, so close, and why is he such an idiot to go with someone he knows is a serial killer and how the bloody hell is John supposed to stop his friend from killing himself and why doesn't Sherlock know better than to go in an abandoned place with a killer and why, out of all the people in London, does Sherlock have to be the one the killer wants to kill…then John remembers the gun in his pocket.
Slowly, John pulls out his handgun. He checks for bullets quickly, although he already knows they're in there. Then he holds it up, taking careful aim. The blasted window is in front of him, with another one on the other building, and John isn't sure that his shot will be any good. But if he misses, if the bullet buries itself in the wall, at least it'll catch Sherlock's attention. Then hopefully the brilliant but idiotic man will come to his senses and let the police get the killer without Sherlock taking a pill. But in a last-second scan of the room, John sees a handgun on the table and knows that if he doesn't make the shot, Sherlock will die. John aims carefully, his hands not shaking at all…Sherlock's "arch-enemy" is right and the therapist is wrong; John's hands don't shake when he's under stress. If they did, John wouldn't be taking the risk he is now and getting ready to shoot, but they don't, so there's nothing to impend John's aim. The shot doesn't seem to hard at first glance, but the killer and Sherlock are moving and if Sherlock moves too far when the shot is made, then the bullet could hit Sherlock. John's aim is normally impeccable, and he knows it. But moving targets through windows…
Sherlock is going to take the pill and John can't wait any longer. He clicks off the safety with a practiced movement. The resounding noise echoes in the empty room, but quickly fades. John checks his aim one last time, his blood pounding in his ears. Sherlock is so close to taking the goddamn pill and John can't wait a moment longer or his friend will die.
He pulls the trigger.
Short, I know. Review to tell me what you think!