Teaser
John groaned at the interruption to his sleep and rolled over, catching his phone as it vibrated off of the table-edge where he had sat it to charge. Caller ID read Sherlock. Of course. The doctor sat up on his elbow and answered it, groggily wiping sleep from his eyes. Being woken up by his best friend at three a.m. beat not hearing from the man for three months. Which he hadn't, Sherlock had been very solitary since George had been kidnapped.
"Sherlock, it's late—"
"John," came the strangled cry. "John, get here now," Sherlock pressed. His voice sounded gurgled, thin…like he could barely form the words. Oh god. John heard a thud in the background, sounding like bone hitting tile. Sherlock was in a bathroom somewhere.
John shot up out of bed, pulling a pair of jeans on over his boxers and shoving socks onto his feet. Mary stirred and sat up, alerted by his suddenness. The doctor was sure that Sherlock had gotten high somewhere and then gotten lost, at worst. He was angry now, overriding the concern.
"John?" she croaked, still half-asleep. He held up a finger to her to wait, and she woke up a bit more, fully aware.
"Sherlock what is wrong? Is it an emergency?"
"Bring your meds bag, I'm in the bath Will probably be unconscious from blood loss by the time you get here…bullet holes," he muttered, voice becoming more slurred by the second. John dove for his medical bag and snagged his jacket off the peg by the door. Mary was following him down the hall, a concerned look hitched on her face. Water was splashing in the background of the phone line.
"Bring coke syrup. Need you to remove…I found George," came the voice of his best friend just before the line cut off. John stared at the phone in disbelief. He'd actually found her? After eight months of no sign, no nothing? How? Where? The good doctor shook his head as if to clear it and ran out into the night, taking their car. Mary followed him, wrapping her dressing gown around her to shield out the cold winter air.
"What's happened?" she asked, more of a murmur. She knew John was in full doctor/soldier mode now. Wide blue eyes looked back at her, fear evident in them.
"He found her." Mary nodded and let go of the window where she'd rested her hand to give him pause. John punched the gas and sped off toward Central London, eager to see his two friends, and desperate for a story to be told.
interested? please review or favorite to show interest. it'll be a relatively slow build (lets face it, Sherlock never admits his feelings for anyone, so of course he's gna take a while to do so here, obviously) before anything graphic happens, but it will be funny and intense plot-wise until then. thanks for reading the teaser!
-Pluto