I found this in a file on my computer- I wrote this years ago [just after the series 1 finale] so it's not brilliantly written- but I thought it would be fun to post!

I do not own Sherlock.

Reviews make me :)


Everything had happened so fast.

A quick decision made. A subtle nod from his flat mate. A gun pointed at the bomb that only a few minutes ago had been strapped to his only friend.

Moriarty tilted his head almost mockingly. A faint smirk remained on his face although Sherlock detected a slight fear in his eye that hadn't been there before.

"Okay-enough!"

John jerked his head round, alarmed by the sound of another voice. For them few minutes [God,had it only be minutes?] it had felt like the only people in the world were him and Sherlock...and the psychotic man who had suddenly changed everything he had ever known.

Sherlock however,seemed un-surprised although the unusual sight of relief ran over his usual subdued face.

"Late? Not like you Lestrade." Sherlock didn't turn round. The gun was still firmly pointed at the bomb and his eyes remained fixed on Moriarty.

"It took us a fair bit to work out what bloody swimming pool you were at."

"The text was perfectly clear."

"Maybe to you. We haven't all got your mind. Thank God."

A lot happened in the next few minutes but John didn't notice it. He remained on the swimming pool floor, breathing heavily. Sherlock would later tell him how the snipers had been Lestrade and his team,that Sherlock had known this ["obviously-I was just waiting for confirmation. To be sure."] that Sherlock had sent Lestrade a text as he left 221b to make his way to the pool. He would tell John how Moriarty hadn't struggled or protested as he was led away, but had given Sherlock a wink. Mycroft,who had had received an identical text,not from Sherlock but from the police had turned up a few minutes later ["To stick his nose in" as Sherlock had interpreted it.]

John, however,was only aware of a buzzing in his ears and the room spinning,slowly at first but gradually getting faster. He leaned forward,shutting his eyes as a familiar, awful feeling began to grow in his stomach. The sound of shouting, explosions-a painful acceptance that he was going to die...


Mycroft had pulled Sherlock aside.

"Are you okay?" His hand remained on Sherlock's shoulder. Usually Sherlock would shake it off but it felt oddly comforting in these circumstances.

"Fine, fine."

"The slight shake in your voice suggests otherwise, Sherlock."

"I'm fine. It was all in hand."

"You knew that?"

"What? Shut up Mycroft! Of course I did."

Mycroft gave a slightly patronising but knowing smile. He leaned forward so only his brother could hear,"You don't have to always be right, Sherlock."

"I'm aware of that, Mycroft. On this occasion however, I was."

"You were aware the snipers were from Lestrade? Not Moriarty?"

Sherlock said nothing and Mycroft nodded slightly.

"So let's say, dear brother, that you did in fact know exactly everything that was going to occur tonight... there is somebody very much involved,besides Moriarty, that most certainly did not."

Sherlock glanced over at John. He was at the side of the pool,still on the floor. A police woman was knelt next to him but John wasn't even looking at her. Instead his eyes were fixed firmly on the floor. Sherlock felt an unfamiliar ache as he looked at the scene. He could sense that Mycroft was watching him intently and he turned back to him.

"What?" Sherlock snapped almost defensively.

Mycroft continued to look at him closely. After a moment he said quietly, "Go to him."

Sherlock looked at John again. He looked so..broken. So in need of comfort. Something he just couldn't give.

"And do what?" Sherlock's words were not spoken spitefully. Mycroft noted that it was probably the most genuine question that Sherlock Holmes had ever made.

"Just...go to him,Sherlock. Stay with him. He needs you...you need him."

Sherlock started to object at these words of sentiment but then stopped. He wanted to go to John. He wanted to say all the right things. He wanted to convince John [and himself] that everything was going to be okay. He just couldn't. He didn't know how. When there had been immediate danger, when John had been strapped to that bomb he had acted on impulse.

He had ripped it off his friend, asking urgently if he was alright [begging that he was alright...he had to be alright] but now the danger had passed. Now it was words rather than actions that had to be used in order to make John alright...

"I have to speak to Lestrade." Sherlock said shortly. "A witness account will have to be made immediately"

"It can wait."

"No, Mycroft, it..."

"It can wait, Sherlock. There are more important things."

Sherlock bowed his head. Then he nodded slightly. Mycroft smiled encourangly and pushed Sherlock firmly but gently in the direction of John.

Sherlock approached John and the police woman tentatively.

"Mr Watson? Can you hear me,Mr Watson?"

"Sh..sh.."

"What are you trying to say, Mr Watson?"

"Where...where's Sherlock?"

Sherlock stood towering over the couple. "Give us a minute" he spoke quietly to the officer.

"He's in shock, Mr Holmes."

"I'm aware of that. Just two minutes."

Lestrade who had watched Sherlock approach John nodded an okay to his officer. Sherlock waited until she was out of hearing distance and then bent down next to John.

"John..."

"Jesus, Sherlock. I thought...I thought..."

"John,listen to me..."

"I thought we were both...I thought that was it."

Sherlock looked at his flat mate. John's eye were still firmly on the floor,clenching shut occassonally. He reached out a hand and put it on his shoulder. "Me too", he whispered. "Just don't tell Mycroft.

John let out a weak laugh. Then fell forward. Sherlock caught him,holding him in his lap.

"Christ, the room is spinning."

"I've got you." Sherlock spoke softly. "It's okay."

They stayed like that for a couple of minutes. Sherlock could feel John shaking and he began to rub John's back. He wasn't sure why, it just seemed the right thing to do.

"Can you stand?"Sherlock asked softly.

John nodded, "I think so."

Sherlock placed his hands under John's armpits and gently helped him to his feet.

"Better?" Sherlock inquired quietly.

John nodded. "Yeah...thanks." He stumbled as he tried to put the room into focus. Sherlock grabbed him and kept a steadying hand on his shoulder.

John glanced around the room. "People are really going to talk now aren't they?"

They both laughed, probably more than they usually would, it just felt like a release for them both. A relief.

Lestrade watched them both in mild bemusement. He made his way over.

"Right, if you both could come to the station. I'm going to need witness reports from the pair of you..."

"It can wait."

John looked at Sherlock in surprise.

Lestrade raised an eyebrow, "It's important, Sherlock. You've caught us another lunatic but we need witness..."

"It can wait until the morning. I'm taking John home."

"You'll both need check-ups, the paramedics are on their way.."

"Nothing a strong drink and a few bars on the violin won't cure."

Lestrade looked at them both,realised he was on to a losing battle and sighed. "First thing tomorrow" he said firmly.

Sherlock nodded his word and then smiled at John. "Still want to live with the sociopath?"

John grinned back. "Better than the lido."

Mycroft approached them. "You'll be wanting a lift home I presume?"

Sherlock turned to John, "Walk?"

John nodded. "Thank you anyway,Mycroft." He said quickly, knowing that Sherlock wasn't going to thank his brother for the offer.

Mycroft looked at them both. "Yes,quite right too."

Sherlock and John made there way through the crowd and into the welcoming cool air.

The pair walked in almost silence back to Baker Street. After the excitement of the swimming pool it seemed almost odd to see the drunks in the street, the taxies still running...the world still going about its business. Sherlock felt, at once, lost for any words to say.

It was almost a relief when his mobile buzzed. Sherlock reached into his pocket

Hold on to him. You're good for each other.

Sherlock smiled slightly and John glanced at him.

"What? Who is it?"

Sherlock put his mobile back in his pocket. "Nothing. Just my brother making an intelligent observation for once in his life."