This is still set after a Study In Pink and before The Blind Banker.
Summary: It had been Lestrade's fault really that they were even there in the first place. John has to deal with Sherlock's latest 'trip.'
"He's saved mine so many times and in so many ways."
Lestrade had phoned asking Sherlock for directions in order to find a drugs gang that he was on the hunt for and Sherlock's voluntary response had been a simple, "I'll come and help you," which was originally declined. However when the Detective Inspector had no idea where he was being led to, he begrudgingly agreed.
Sherlock Holmes's homeless network were extremely helpful – even if some did need a bit more of a bribe than others – to lead them in the right direction. As always, John marvelled at his companion's ability, trying to stick to doing so in his head despite Sherlock's like to his compliments.
All of the running in circle had tired them all out to the point where they had to stop to get their breath back. Greg sighed unhappily, "I guess we'll have to give up the chase then."
"I thought you said you weren't giving up?" John asked curiously.
"It's getting dark and we'll never find them now. I'll just have to let someone else take the case and get the credit."
"We'll find them," John started, "We've still got time right Sherlock? Sherlock?"
"Hmm, yeah." Sherlock answered as though he was in a completely different world. Only seconds later, he was running off at breakneck pace.
"Sherlock!" John and Lestrade shouted out in unison, looking quickly to eat other before running after him. The lanes twisted and turned, the Doctor and Detective Inspector hurrying after their friend, rushing in fear for what he was following especially considering how he had been spaced out only seconds earlier.
John and Lestrade rounded the corner just in time to see someone jab something at Sherlock at run off. The Consulting Detective's body just crumpled to the ground, folding in on itself as though Sherlock had no backbone.
Neither of them could rush forwards quick enough.
Five… no four, four fingers and two- clouds dancing at night... case. The case, Lestrade's case. The drugs gang- the thrill, the work… brain rotting.
All that Sherlock knew was that someone had given him drugs and he was losing his mind to this one.
So what was it?
John reached Sherlock first and almost fell onto his knees himself beside the detective. Lestrade skidded to a halt before kneeling down more carefully than the ex-army medic.
Check breathing, pulse, airways.
Lestrade had pulled on a pair of gloves and grabbed the now empty syringe from Sherlock's arm, "What was it?" John asked worriedly, hoping that Lestrade may be able to shed some light on the situation.
"I don't know," He answered, "A drug of some kind certainly. Sherlock would know."
"Well Sherlock can't tell us can he?" John asked sarcastically before checking Sherlock's pupils , "It's something strong though."
"So Class C or stronger then," Lestrade answered, using his police knowledge to try and help out the situation, "To narrow it down, I'll need more than that though."
"It's come on pretty quickly whatever it is," John started, deciding to try and use what he had learnt from watching Sherlock's deductions, "So injected drug means it can be a liquid form. It's taken hold quickly, so it's possible stronger: more potent than if it wasn't a liquid?"
"You tell me," Lestrade replied, "I can't do what Sherlock does. But if it helps, I'd take a guess that's it's definitely an illegal substance."
Sherlock chose that moment to move – well if you could class it as movement – with an action that could barely be classed as such and seemed completely related to paralysis. Lestrade looked completely confused when it seemed as though Sherlock making an attempt to get up and even though he was barely lifting himself up a few centimetres from the ground, he was slamming down onto it harder.
"What's wrong with him? What's he trying to do?" Lestrade questioned.
"Get up I think," John answered quickly, before leaning over his friend and trying to keep him down onto the floor to avoid hurting his back, which he eventually would if this was kept up, "Sherlock? Sherlock can you hear me? You need to snap out of it!"
"Do you want me to call an ambulance? He'll hate me for it for a while, but he'll get over it." Lestrade offered.
"Why doesn't he like hospitals? I've wanted to know that since he had heatstroke last week." John questioned as he tried to get Sherlock to wake up.
"You'd have to ask his brother," Lestrade informed him, "When I met Sherlock I was told not to take him to a hospital – as a patient anyway – if the situation could be avoided."
"Oh. Sherlock? Sherlock! Stop moving, you're okay."
"What's happening now?"
"I think he's having a panic attack out of confusion from whatever that thing was that he was injected with," John explained, "Can you try and figure out what that is, please and quickly."
"I really don't know, morphine?" Lestrade suggested, "Or something like it. John I really don't know and I think you should let me call an ambulance before this gets out of hand."
"No, we can't do that. Mycroft's ordered us both not to for some reason. He told me that I had to look after him, so I will."
"Okay, I just think a hospital would have better resources to deal with this than the pair of us in a London lane with no awareness as to what he's got in his system."
"Sherlock? Sherlock, wake up. You need to snap out of this." Lestrade was updating Sally as to where they were, asking if she could bring some people down there to see if they could track the guy down still. She didn't seem happy, but agreed in the end.
"John, maybe the hospital could give him something to knock this out or him you know like they do for operations with anaesthetics."
"We're not going to a hospital! Sherlock, its John can you hear me?" The moment he finished speaking, something clicked in John's mind and he quickly looked to Lestrade, "Wait what was that last thing you said?"
"I was talking about operations and anaesthetics." Scotland Yard's officer spoke again, slightly dazed and confused.
"Can I see that syringe?" John questioned, hoping he'd find his answer written on it. Lestrade passed a glove to him, "Hold Sherlock for me. Only lightly though." The two swapped and Doctor Watson inspected the empty medical device.
"Sherlock? John!" Lestrade called after a moment and John immediately looked back, "I don't think he's on the same wavelength as us at the moment, heck I'm not sure he's even in the same world as us."
"It's ketamine."
"What?"
"The drug, its ketamine." John repeated.
"Are you sure?" Lestrade asked, "Isn't that a medical usage drug?"
"An anaesthetic. In high enough qualities it can reduce sensations in the body, cause hallucinations and paralysis, panic attacks, confusion and distort reality. It's fast working as a liquid – it has to be, because of its job – and more dangerous, it means you don't know what you're doing. Makes it easier to hurt yourself."
"Okay, now you have to let me call an ambulance." Lestrade told John, who looked up at him in uncertainty as he took in a deep breath, completely unsure as to whether he could save Sherlock from the inside of his head.
"H… trip…"
"Ho… get him out?"
"Wha… freak go…"
"Don.. shh."
"Thi… what happens… cases."
"Anderson!"
Oh, yes Anderson, lowering the IQ of everyone. Where was everyone? Hearable, voice, sirens, well sort of. Wait no- darkness. Only darkness.
And that darned umbrella!
"He's tripping!" John spoke out loud as he tried his best to help Sherlock, whilst attempting to clarify what he meant to everyone else, "He's stuck in his mind."
"How do we get him out?" Lestrade asked curiously, wanting to help as much as he could.
"What's freak gone and done now?" Sally Donovan asked as she climbed out of her car, followed by Anderson, which explained to Lestrade why she hadn't been happy to turn up.
"Some silence would be nice." John mumbled and Lestrade turned his gaze to the approaching pair.
"Donovan, ssh."
"This is exactly what happens when you let him in on your cases."
"Anderson!"
"What it's true!" The male answered back, but he shut up the moment Greg glared at him, not wanting to be shouted at again.
"Just do what you're told, both of you." Lestrade ordered, waiting for John's commands.
Considering Sherlock's drug history, you wouldn't think it would have such an effect, but you would be wrong to presume that. Lestrade soon filled John in that Sherlock hadn't – to his knowledge at least – had any dealings with drugs for five years, on the promise that he could help out Lestrade.
Although Sherlock had never been one to take ketamine according to the list Greg had been given by Mycroft.
Around an hour later, Sherlock showed signs of being able to move directly, telling John that the paralysis was wearing or had worn off. His only worry with that was that there would be far more of an opportunity for Sherlock to injure himself.
Things went right for Lestrade though, as he and Donovan had managed to catch the gangs leader. Although John had been left with Anderson's company.
The Consulting Detective was slowly seeming to return to the real world and not a distorted version.
"Sherlock?" John asked as his friend seemed to be blinking his eyes in an attempt to wake himself up, "Can you hear me?"
"Course can."
"Yes of course you can, come on." Going home had been an arduous taxi journey of trying to keep Sherlock in the real world as much as possible. He was sure the cab driver was giving him strange looks.
Sherlock was sort of walking himself up the stairs, but john daren't let go of the younger for even a second.
"John?" Sherlock asked once they were inside of the flat. The doctor was in the kitchen, trying to move some of Sherlock's latest experiments in order to make space. He had nothing else to do and all he wanted to do was sleep, however he downright refused to leave Sherlock up alone while there was a possible chance that he still had the effects of ketamine interfering with his body.
The Consulting Detective was using the wall to lean against as he pointed to the table, "What happened?"
"We were hoping you could answer that."
"He gave me something. I don't know what."
"Ketamine. Lestrade and I worked it out."
"Good, knew you would," John mumbled something that sounded like an simple 'of course' or 'you would,' but Sherlock continued either way, "Did I imagine that Donovan and Anderson were there or were they actually?"
"They were," John answered and you could instantly see Sherlock's face fall, "Don't worry, they missed the worst part. They just saw that you were on unconscious."
"Oh," Sherlock answered before taking an extended step forwards and swapping the wall for the table. After a moment he posed the next question that had been on his mind, "Was Mycroft there?"
"No, I didn't even ring him to let him know what happened. I bet you he'll kidnap me for a 'chat' tomorrow," Sherlock laughed at his, but both of them knew the likely possibility of it being completely true, "Why did you think Mycroft was there anyway?"
"Because I kept seeing that annoying umbrella of his!" And that was the single most interesting thing John had heard all day.
And that was the fourth story of how John Watson saved the life of Sherlock Holmes: by saving him from tripping.
Okay, well there's chapter three. Hopefully I can have four up by Monday. Also just as a reminder, you are allowed to request any situations that you would like to see written, but only until the twenty second of January (for now anyway, I may open requests again later,) so that I can have an idea of where they would slot in well. Thank you for all of the reviews, alerts and favourites - they mean a lot to me - and of course for reading :)