Hello everyone! So I saw season three promo for Sherlock and I'm so excited! I started re-watching season 1 and 2 and couldn't help but write this little one-shot. I'm so excited! I can't wait until it airs!

I apologize for any mistakes. This is all me and hasn't been looked over by my beta.

Summary: Au- John finds himself caught up in a train accident and Sherlock must deal with feelings that he is not used to. Johnlock! No character death

Hope you all enjoy :)

The Perfect Derailment

Ding

Over the scraping of his bow across his violin strings Sherlock heard his phone chime. It sat on the desk in the living room that both he and John shared. The screen glowed brightly and Sherlock lowered his violin and bow. He set it down gently on the couch and moved to the table. He picked up his phone in his long spidery fingers and opened the text.

Train derailment. Come- Lestrade

Sherlock rolled his eyes at Lestrade's incompetence. This was hardly a one and he didn't leave the house for anything over a seven.

Dull- SH

Sherlock hadn't even moved before his phone was chiming again with another text.

John was on the train- Lestrade

This changed everything. Sherlock was moving before he had eve finished reading Lestrade's text message. With fluid movement he took his coat and scarf off the hook and was sliding his arms into it, taking their stairs three at a time.

He flagged down a taxi, trying to ignore the tremble in his hands. It surprised and scared him that he could not get his brain to function past 'John, must get to John'. His heart rate had increased and a cold sweat had broken across his body. Never had he reacted in such a way before and he briefly wondered what John had exactly done to make him feel this way but couldn't think about that right now- not when he was feeling such panic.

Before the taxi had even come to a halt, Sherlock was flinging open the door and climbing in. He relayed the address and leant back on the seat. He tried to calm his racing heart and swallowed; his mouth was oddly dry. In his hand, he was clutching his phone tightly. He glared at it, as if it would stop any other text messages from coming through delivering more bad news.

Eventually the taxi came to a halt due to police tape. Sherlock threw a bunch of notes at the driver and all but leapt out the taxi. He strode purposefully, lifting up the police tape forcefully.

"Lestrade," he barked as soon as the DI came into view.

Lestrade looked stressed. He was pale, his usual styled hair a mess; an obvious sign he had been running his hand through it. The scene was chaos. Police, ambulance, firemen and those who had been on or near the train at the time were running about.

Scream and crying blended with the sirens and yell of instructions.

"Sherlock-" Lestrade said when he reached him but consulting detective cut them off.

"Any sign of John?" Sherlock demanded, his voice loud and fierce.

"Not yet," Lestrade said grimly.

Sherlock's jaw clenched. He knew that John was on this train. He had been on it to go visit his sister who was in rehab. John hadn't wanted to go and had promised Sherlock that he would be on the 11:15 train.

Sherlock looked at his phone and quickly scrolled until he got to John's number and called the number. He cursed himself for not trying John's phone sooner. Each ring made Sherlock's stomach clench tighter and tighter.

"Hello?"

Sherlock let out a breath of relief. "John. Are you injured?"

He heard John grunt on the other end. "Hit my shoulder."

Judging by the pain in John's voice and they was he spoke through gritted teeth he had injured the shoulder he had been shot in. "What carriage are you in?"

"I-I think the fourth one," John said. "I can't really remember. Everything is on its side though."

Sherlock's eyes were immediately drawn to the carriage that lay on its side. It was one of the two carriages that had tipped over. Firemen were setting up to try and get in to rescue those who were trapped. Including his John.

"Help is coming," Sherlock informed him. "I can see them."

"You're here?" John asked.

Sherlock detected John's relief and his lips quirked up in a brief smile before his usual blank mask was back. "Of course."

"Good, that's good, Sherlock," John said quietly.

In the background, both could hear a small whimper of pain. Sherlock frowned as he heard John moving, the clutter of broken metal shifting under his feet at he moved.

"John? What's happening?" Sherlock demanded, panic rising up within in him again, not matter how much he tried to quell it.

John grunted down the phone line and there was silence. "Shit, there's a young girl. She's trapped."

"Help me," Sherlock heard the panic in the girl's voice clear as anything.

"Relax, I'm a doctor," John said. "Sherlock, I'm putting you on speaker." There was sharp noise on the other end before everything went silent again. "Can you hear me?" Johns voice was distant now but Sherlock could hear him perfectly fine.

"Yes," Sherlock affirmed. His eyes scanned the carriage. A fireman was on the carriage, looking for a way in. "I approximate that in fifteen minutes a fireman will be in to get you out."

"Okay," John said to Sherlock. "Now, what's your name?"

The girl let out a painful and scared sob. "Lisa."

"I'm Doctor John Watson," John introduced. "Is it just your leg that is trapped?"

Sherlock could picture John crouching beside her, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, more concerned with the girl than himself. He would be in his element, a sight that Sherlock always admired. With his military training he was perfect in this situation.

"Yes," Lisa answered. "God, it hurts so much!"

"It's broken," John said. "I'm going to lift this and you need to slide yourself out."

"I can't," Lisa sobbed.

Sherlock gritted his teeth. Lifting anything with John's shoulder was going to be painful. With the sudden trauma with his shoulder he would not have the strength to lift and move the girl. Sherlock started to pace, fighting the urge to join the fireman get John out himself.

"Yes, you can," John said firmly. Sherlock could hear the solider command in his voice and fought the urge to smirk. "One the count of three. One, two, three."

John grunted and the sound of metal grinding against more metal filled the phone. The girl screamed and John swore before there was a huge bang. Lisa was crying loudly now, almost hysterically.

"JOHN!" Sherlock snapped, fear filling him. He ignored Lestrade's worried looks and the way he looked as if he wanted to ask what was going on.

"She's free," John said through gritted teeth. "Fuck," he swore under his breath. "You're okay, you're going to be fine. Sherlock tell them to hurry up. She's going into shock."

Sherlock strode away from Lestrade and towards who look in charge. He was a stern looking man and was wearing a search and rescue uniform.

"You need to hurry up," Sherlock said as soon as he reached him.

The man turned around and looked Sherlock up and down. "Excuse me?" he asked, glaring at Sherlock.

"Carriage four, where your men are now. There is a young girl going into shock and has a broken leg."

"How do you know?" the man accused.

"Because I'm on the phone to a doctor who is trying to help her," Sherlock said through gritted teeth. "Tell your men to hurry up."

"It's alright," John soothed on the other end of the phone. "Help is coming."

"It hurts," Lisa wailed.

Sherlock rose a pointed eyebrow at the man and got a snarl in response. The man lifted his walkie talki to his lips.

"If it's all clear, get in there now. We have a young girl going into shock," he said.

Sherlock smirked triumphantly and strode away from the man. "They are coming in."

"Good," John said. The relief was hardly detectable but Sherlock could hear it.

Lestrade joined Sherlock again and they watched as John, Lisa and the others were slowly extracted from the tipped carriage. As soon as John was free, the paramedics waiting for him, Sherlock was striding towards him. When he reached him, John was laid out on a stretcher, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable.

"John," Sherlock said as soon as he reached him.

Relief and something else washed over John's face as soon as he locked on his taller friend. "Sherlock."

The relief washing through Sherlock was nothing he had ever felt before and he couldn't stop his body from moving. He reached out, taking John's hand and squeezed it tightly before leaning down and quickly kissing him on the lips.

He reeled back, back straight and searched John's face. "I-"

John squeezed his hand, making him fall short. "It's good, Sherlock. Very good."

Sherlock nodded once before John was stretched away and put in the back of an ambulance. Lestrade came up beside him, looking Sherlock up and down. "He's been taken St. Bart's."

Sherlock nodded and without a word, strode away in order to find a taxi. He didn't see, nor would he have cared, at Lestrade smile. He had seen the two kiss and was surprised it hadn't happened sooner- then again, it was Sherlock. As he watched the tall consulting detective stride away he was relieved that John was okay. John was good for Sherlock and cared for him in a way that someone probably had never had.

He didn't want to think what Sherlock would become if John wasn't around anymore. The two needed each other. Lestrade took one last look at the disaster and sighed. At least one good thing had come from all this.

What did you think? Happy reading :)