Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this! Enjoy! :)
A grey tinge of dawn bled across the dark sky. Sherlock Holmes blinked the sleep out of his eyes and looked down at John. His arms were wrapped around Sherlock's waist and his head was buried in Sherlock's neck. One of Sherlock's hands rested on John's back while the other laid on the mattress. John's blonde hair stuck up in crazy directions, and Sherlock was tempted to run his fingers through it to try and flatten it out. But Sherlock knew John was a light sleeper, and they had a long night so he knew John would be crabby if he woke up anytime soon. So Sherlock went to his mind palace, and thought about his most recent experiment.
A distant ringing noise made Sherlock freeze for a second. Warmth left him and he felt like he was being shaken. He could've sworn he heard someone call his name. The voice sounded tired and deep, defiantly male. The voice got louder and clearer, "Sherlock!" Sherlock jolted and harsh light invaded his senses. The ringing continued and Sherlock realized that it was his phone. Shifting up on his back elbows, Sherlock pushed himself up. John growled and rolled over, sprawling himself on the other side of the queen mattress. Snatching his phone, Sherlock's deep baritone voice filled the room, "Hello." Sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting a faint glow on John's frame. His blonde hair glowed a brilliant yellow. Sherlock admired this for a minute and picked up his hand to run it through John's hair. Detective Inspector Dimmock's voice made Sherlock stop and scowl, ""There's been a bombing at the Diogenes club. We're having some difficulty locating the bomb. Lestrade wanted me to call you, or else I wouldn't have. He really wanted you over here." Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Of course you don't know where the bomb is. I'll be right over." Not bothering to wait for a reply, Sherlock hung up and jumped out of bed. "John come on, there's been a bombing!" John mumbled something into the pillow. Buttoning up his purple shirt, Sherlock smirked, "What was that?" John forced himself to sit up and glared at Sherlock. "It's too early for this." Sherlock just grinned at John's grumpy expression. When he was half asleep his glaring looked adorable instead of intimidating. "Nonsense it's never too early for a case," Sherlock glanced at the clock behind him, "Besides it's only ten thirty two." John grumbled and slowly rolled out of bed.
Walking over to his dresser, he pulled out his oatmeal jumper. Slipping it on over his head, he asked, "Where's the bombing at?" Sherlock pulled on his coat and wrapped his scarf around his neck. "The Diogenes Club." After John put on his trousers he slipped his shoes on. "Isn't that where Mycroft-" Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Yes sadly but he's fine. The Scotland Yard is stupid, but not dumb enough to not discover missing people. I'm sure that's the reason why Gavin sent me up there, to make sure his boyfriend is ok. I'm sure I'm the last person Mycroft wants to see, besides he can take care of himself now. Come on John. The game is on!" Running down the stairs, John rolled his eyes and followed him.
Ahead of them was the remains of the Diogenes Club. Some parts of the establishment were absolutely destroyed while other parts stood tall. Smoke rose from the fire that had been previously blazing inside some parts of the building. Climbing out of the cab, Sherlock rushed to the police tape. Holding the tape up, Sherlock stepped over to the other side. Sherlock still kept his grip on the tape, and held it up for John to slip under. Dimmock immediately jogged over to them. "Oh you're here." Dimmock sighed. "Luckily there were no deaths, just a few minor injuries." Sherlock scanned the shambles in front of him. Then he looked off to the side where all the people stood who were in the building at the time of the bomb. Some were simply just frozen there gaping at the remains of the building, while others were talking to firemen. "Someone is still in there." Sherlock stated and stared walking toward the entrance. John and Dimmock both jumped, rushing after Sherlock. "What are you talking about?" Dimmock called out, but Sherlock continued to walk. "You didn't get everyone." Sherlock hated repeating himself and explaining simple things to people. What's there not to understand about everyone not being out of the building? "That's impossible. We checked the entire place twice for people before Lestrade called me. Everyone's out." Dimmock hurried to catch up with him.
Sherlock whipped around and shot Dimmock a venomous look, causing the Detective Inspector to take a step back. "Well then obviously you didn't look hard enough." Sherlock turned and continued on his way. "Wait! Sherlock!" The detective didn't listen and entered the building, leaving John and Dimmock no choice but to follow him in. The building was full of people sorting through piles of rubble for evidence as to where the bomb could be or who could have planted it. "Tell everyone to stop what they're doing." Sherlock halted in the center of the ruined room. "Now, wait just a-" Sherlock pulled his hands towards his head and shook them, screaming, "SHUT UP! Everybody shut up! Don't move, don't speak, just stop what you're doing!" The room grew silent and Sherlock hurriedly glanced around for any signs of where the missing person could be. Some people continued to work once they saw that Sherlock wasn't wearing a police uniform, and Sherlock glared at them. They paid him no attention though.
"Sherlock, there is no one left in this building. Everyone go back to what you were doing!" Dimmock ran his fingers through his hair and rested his hand on his hip. John walked over to Dimmock and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to his level. "He can't search with all this noise, so I will only ask this once. Tell them to stop." John hissed out through his teeth, earning a smirk from Sherlock. Dimmock nodded, gulping, and John released him. Dimmock flung himself back, and straightened out his shirt. "Ok. Everyone, stop what you're doing!" His voice rang through the building, echoing off the walls. Gradually, the echoes died away along with the sounds of their working.
Sherlock ran around trying to locate anywhere a body could be, but there were too many possibilities. Growling out in frustration, Sherlock put his fingers to his temple and tried to think. "Aha!" Grinning, Sherlock pulled out his phone. He dialed a number and held onto his phone. There was a short pause, and soon a distant ringing sound. Sherlock ran in the direction of the noise, his blood flashing cold. He could hear the running footsteps of John and Dimmock behind him, but paid no attention to them. Visions ran through his mind of all the possible worst-case scenarios, and his heart began to beat roughly in his throat. He pushed his negative thoughts away, knowing that he needed to focus on the ringing. The noise became louder and he was soon faced with a large pile of rubble in a hall. Sherlock dropped to his knees, and began quickly tearing bricks from it, discarding them on the floor besides him. John kneeled besides Sherlock, and Dimmock stood behind them. "What's going on?" Dimmock looked over Sherlock's shoulder, trying to see what he was doing.
"Whoever planted the bomb was clever. They placed it here to ensure that he wouldn't be found." Sherlock explained as he ripped through the bricks, the edge of one cut his finger and it stung. Some blood began to trickle out, and John saw this. John fought the urge to grab his finger and fix the wound, he knew that whoever was under the pile needed more help. Sherlock ignored the slight pain of the cut and continued. "I'm sorry he? Who are you talking about?" Dimmock asked but this time Sherlock ignored him. He removed a brick full of blood, but he knew it wasn't from the cut on his finger. Panic clawed up his throat, but Sherlock forced it down. He knew that he needed to stay calm. A bloody hand appeared, making Sherlock's blue eyes widen. Sherlock dug faster, ignoring the fact that he now had cuts on his palms.
The last brick was eventually pulled and he finally uncovered the unconscious form of Mycroft Holmes. "Oh my God. " John breathed out. "Paramedics!" Dimmock turned around and rushed out of the room. Cold, biting panic began to prickle along Sherlock's pale skin. Mycroft's face was too pale and calm. With shaking fingers, he placed them to the side of Mycroft's neck. He could feel a faint pulse, and he released a breath that he didn't know he had been holding. His shoulders sagged in relief and he removed his fingers.
The paramedics arrived and pulled Sherlock off the ground, shoving him out of the way. "Wait no-" Sherlock lunged toward his brother, but this time John held onto him. "Sherlock it's ok, he's going to be alright. He's breathing, it's ok." John whispered soothingly into Sherlock's ear, making Sherlock feel better. John was here, by his side, so he knew that everything was going to be alright. The next few moments seemed to go by in a blur as the paramedics lifted Mycroft onto a stretcher and began to carry him away. Sherlock was about to follow, but paused when he felt John's hand grip onto his wrist. Turning towards John, he saw John bend over and pick up Mycroft's dusty phone. "Thank you." Sherlock nodded and John held Sherlock's hand again. "Hey, it's going to be alright, ok? I'm here to help." Sherlock smiled at that, and gripped John's hand. "I know. I'd be lost without my blogger." They headed out of the wreckage and to the hospital, the place that Sherlock had always dreaded.
Let me know what you think! This will probably be 3-4 chapters.