Why Is It Always John?
The softly lilting accent sounded eerily calm in the confined space they were in. Sherlock Holmes, John Watson and Jim Moriarty were all stuck there, somehow, and the Irish psychopath was still calm. Of course, Sherlock was too, but that didn't worry John. He knew and loved Sherlock; he trusted him with his life and it had come in handy a lot recently.
"So what are we going to do now?" Moriarty was asking. Sherlock replied just as coolly.
"We're going to wait." the deep baritone said plainly. It made John feel safer, that voice. He would follow it anywhere.
"But I thought we could at least have a good old fashioned fight!" mock-exclaimed Moriarty. "Like in the movies..." Sherlock snorted.
"Here?" he laughed. "This is a broken lift. There's no room and it wouldn't even be satisfying." John allowed himself a small smile. Sherlock was perfectly capable of turning every threateningly childlike thing Moriarty said into a joke - a creepy one, yes, but still a joke.
"John," Sherlock's voice broke his train of thought. "You can't get a signal yet, can you?" John checked his phone and shook his head.
"No, not yet." he replied. How long would they be here?
"Don't look so worried, Johnny," leered Moriarty. "I'm sure Sherly here will find a way out..." John closed his eyes.
"Stop, now," Sherlock warned. "We have to survive for a while yet together, and tormenting each other won't help." John slumped onto the floor of the lift in exhaustion at the words that sounded so strangely empathetic coming from Sherlock.
"Of course, then." Jim smiled sweetly before sitting down opposite John. It was strange to see this madman in a suit settling down patiently. After a second Sherlock joined John silently.
"Oh..." said Moriarty quietly.
"What?" snapped John, the man beginning to tug at his already fragile nerves.
"Nothing." he replied innocently.
"We can annoy him best by not asking anything, John," said Sherlock. "Ignore it." John nodded.
"Or maybe we should laugh knowingly." he suggested, chuckling. Moriarty sneered.
"Don't laugh at me." he said. "I thought we weren't going to torment each other." John grinned menacingly.
"Oh dear, I can't tease you, can I?" he prodded before finally falling silent.
Hours passed. Luckily the lights didn't flicker out.
Although he was hungry, John found it easy to sleep, and woke up again with his head in Sherlock's lap. Sherlock appeared to be deep in thought, judging by his furrowed brow, and Moriarty seemed to be nervous. Claustrophobic, probably.
They sat a while longer in silence, John avoiding the analytical stares Moriarty was directing at him. After a while, he sat up and took up the occupation of staring at Sherlock, who was staring at Moriarty, who was staring at John.
BANG.
There was a muffled crash from the exterior of the lift and the three men whipped their heads around.
"Hello?" Moriarty called nervously.
"Are you okay?" a voice replied.
"Yes," answered John, looking back to Sherlock. He looked worried.
"Stand back." the voice said. John pulled Sherlock up and they stood with their backs to the wall.
There was a resounding crash as the lift doors broke in.
Moriarty was immediately handcuffed and marched away. Sherlock immediately loped off to find someone to shout at. John allowed himself to be taken in a police car back to the flat.
Two days later, they went to see Moriarty in his cell.
"Oh, hello, there!" called the restrained man. John winced at the voice and Sherlock rubbed a hand soothingly on his shoulder.
"Moriarty." he greeted him.
"It does get boring here without guests, you know." the insane man said. "You wouldn't like it at all, would you? No cases, no running around, no experimenting... No John." Already, John had had enough. That voice... He swore it would kill him with its disturbingly young tone and its soft intonations. He strode away, pulling Sherlock's hand from his shoulder.
"Why do you always make sure to hurt John, Moriarty?" Sherlock asked.
"Well," came the prompt reply. "Is it so strange that the man who taught you to love taught me to be possessive?" he asked loudly. Sherlock stared at him and walked away.
"Don't worry." he reassured John. "We won't be visiting him again."