A/N: This fic is brought to you by PuzzlerthePony and CrazyCoffeeKat :D Prepare for humor, friendship, and epic bromance.
Disclaimer: We don't own anything.
Sherlock sprinted through the darkness, John following closely behind. Leaves crunched beneath their feet, their breath coming out in ragged pants as they made their way through the forest. Lestrade and Anderson trailed behind them, torches flickering madly as they tried to keep up.
Together, they sprinted through the thick woods, hearts pounding with the thrill of the chase.
The detective squinted into the night, slowing down for a fraction of a second before catching movement in the corner of his eye.
"He's this way!" Sherlock called out breathlessly, pointing at something in the distance.
The promise of a catch only prompted Sherlock to run faster, and the men quickened their pace as the detective headed up a steep incline.
John skidded to a halt, watching in disbelief as his flatmate leapt down from the ledge towards a small stream. With an exasperated huff, he chased after the detective, nearly losing his footing on the moss-covered rocks.
Lestrade and Anderson wisely slowed down, following them down the ledge with a bit more caution. Once they had reached the stream, the four men came to a stop, panting hard.
"Well where is he?" Anderson demanded, still trying to catch his breath.
"No, wait, don't tell me," he cried. "We're bloody lost!"
The detective didn't reply, instead surveying the scene before him. His eyes narrowed, and he stepped carefully over the rocks across the stream.
John frowned, trailing after him.
"What is it?" John asked, following the detective over to a rocky ledge.
"Look," Sherlock breathed, hands ghosting over the smooth surface of the rocks.
Hidden in the rocks, there was the entrance to what appeared to be a cave.
John whirled around and waved to the others. "Over here!" He shouted.
Lestrade ran up, and shined his torch into the opening.
"Best wait for backup, mate," the DI said, glancing at the detective apologetically. "We don't know what could be down there."
Anderson nodded in agreement, while Lestrade reached into his pocket, fishing for his mobile.
The detective rolled his eyes. The DI had dropped it back when they had first darted into the woods.
Completely ignoring the useless 'protocol' and 'safety' nonsense they were going on about now, Sherlock simply turned and darted inside.
"Sherlock!" John hissed, watching as his idiot flatmate disappeared into the darkness. He spun around, grabbing the torch from Lestrade before chasing quickly after said flatmate.
Greg gaped. Then, after a moment, he sighed in resignation.
"Come on, then," he said, motioning towards the entrance.
Anderson balked. "I don't-…"
The DI huffed, grabbing the other man by the sleeve and ushering him forward.
Meanwhile, John made his way through the tunnel at a brisk pace. The doctor looked around, light from his torch shining off the low ceiling.
John frowned, squinting into the inky darkness. Up ahead, there seemed to be light reflecting off the walls. Coming up to the mouth of the cave, he paused.
"Sherlock?" John called. He held his breath, and waited for a reply.
There wasn't any. The doctor felt his stomach sink.
Letting his army training take over, John slipped into the shadows. He crouched low, keeping his back to the wall. Readying himself for anything, John took a silent step forward.
… and right into Sherlock.
John cursed loudly, nearly dropping his torch.
"Took you long enough," Sherlock said simply.
"What the hell-"
"Where are the others?" Sherlock interrupted brusquely.
"They're… somewhere," John replied, motioning vaguely to the entranceway.
Sherlock responded with a noncommittal noise, turning to inspect the cave.
Once John had calmed down, he was able to take a good look around the place.
There was a glittering pool of crystal clear blue water, which took up a great deal of space inside the cave. The moon shone through an opening at the top, light reflecting off the pond strangely.
It was eerily beautiful; all of these things making the whole place seem unearthly.
Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps filled the cavern as Lestrade and Anderson approached.
"You two alright?" Lestrade panted.
"Yeah," John replied.
The doctor frowned. "Why were you running?"
"Well, we heard screaming…" The DI trailed off awkwardly.
John sent Sherlock a peeved glare.
Sherlock, however, simply ignored the other three men as he stormed over from the other side of the cave.
"I've searched the place. It's completely empty," the detective muttered, thumbing furiously at his mobile.
John gaped at him. Or rather, the mobile phone in his hand.
"Wait. You had that with you the whole time?!"
Sherlock blinked owlishly.
"What? You didn't expect me to use mine, did you?"
John seethed. "You utter-"
"Alright." Lestrade quickly stepped between the two before John could strangle the detective. "Obviously, our man isn't here…"
"Obviously," Sherlock said, tone scathing.
Lestrade sucked in a breath. "So there's no point in calling anyone now, anyways…"
The men were silent for a moment, each one feeling very much disappointed.
"We could've gotten him," Sherlock remarked.
"...If it wasn't for Anderson's lack of any sort of physical ability."
Anderson spun around, fuming.
"I'm not the one that went running off like some arrogant sod who thinks he knows everything!" He turned to Lestrade (ignoring the indignant shouts of 'I do know everything!').
"I knew this was a bad idea!" He yelled.
"Oh, do shut up, Anderson!" Sherlock shouted. "Your lack of intelligence is only rivaled by your complete and utter- oof!"
His rant was cut off abruptly as Anderson calmly reached over and shoved Sherlock straight into the pool of water.
The detective broke the water with a sputter and, before Anderson had any time to gloat, Sherlock grabbed a hold of Anderson's leg and pulled the man into the pool with him. John and Lestrade could only stare in disbelief as the forensics officer fell in with a muffled shriek.
Anderson bobbed up moments later, brushing his dark bangs out of his eyes before turning around to face the detective.
"You bloody- OW!" He cried, as Sherlock promptly kicked him in his shin. Anderson snarled, returning with a forceful kick of his own. The detective hissed in pain before splashing Anderson in the face and then catching him in the stomach with a bony elbow.
John stared dumbly at the scene before him, watching as the two very adult men fought like children.
It seemed like the forensics officer had the upper hand, however, as he pulled Sherlock back under the water. He gave a triumphant "HA!" though that was short lived, as the detective had somehow managed to shove a soggy shoe into Anderson's mouth.
"That's enough you two!" Lestrade shouted, moving to pull them apart. However, in his efforts to separate the mass of flailing limbs he, too, fell into the water.
John threw his hands up in exasperation.
"Oh, for the love of-"
With a strangled cry, Sherlock flung himself at the forensics officer.
John was thoroughly drenched by the resulting tidal wave.
"Sherlock!" He growled, gazing down at his sopping wet clothes.
In all of the chaos, however, no one noticed the light of full moon slowly filling the cave. It slipped past unnoticed, its rays of light completely flooding the cave for one brief, fleeting moment. Then, just as quickly, it disappeared.
Suddenly, as though by the flick of a switch, everything just stopped.
For a minute, everyone in the cavern remained completely silent. The men looked at each other with unease.
Something felt wrong, all of the sudden.
Sherlock (as per usual) was the first to break the silence.
"Well," he said flatly, "that was ominous."
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