When one is the flatmate and 'twin brother' of Sherlock Holmes you get used to walking in on some strange things. John was just on his way back from the surgery after a day of work when he opened the door and saw a pig strung up by the ceiling.
Sherlock was standing a small distance away levitating a strange greyish white goo with his mind and flinging at the pig. John wished this was the strangest thing he'd ever walked in on. In fact, this didn't even make the top ten.
"So, tea?" John asked without batting an eyelash.
"I can't drink tea now John, I'm getting closer!" Sherlock replied clearly frustrated.
"Closer to what?" John asked as he made his way to the kettle, knowing full well he was going to send Sherlock on one of his fun rants.
"Well once I managed to levitate liquids I thought perhaps I could use it as a weapon! Untraceable!" Sherlock explained eyes alight with excitement, "Of course I can't freeze water at will and I can hardly carry around ice bullets, that's when I came up with this!"
"The goo?" John raised an eyebrow.
"Corn-starch and water." Sherlock corrected, "A very interesting substance, normally it is a thick liquid."
Sherlock demonstrated by pouring it over his hand and watching as it dripped through his fingers like putty.
"But, when force is applied…" Sherlock grinned, grabbing his hammer and bring it down on a puddle of the stuff sitting on the table. It smashed like glass, shattering around the room and then turning back to goo.
"A solid that's only a solid when pressure is applied!" Sherlock grinned, "If I can learn to keep enough pressure on it with my mind and use it as a projectile simultaneously, I will have an 'impossible' weapon if we ever get in a tight spot!"
"That actually sounds pretty smart." John relented.
Sherlock grinned, obviously basking praise, not that his ego needed it. He then turned back to his experiment and began flinging the corn-starch at the pig. But every time it spattered against the skin harmlessly. Sherlock growled in frustration.
"You're going to be at this all night aren't you?" John smiled affectionately. Sherlock nodded. Sighing John gathered up a bowl, this would be entertaining.
"I'll make the popcorn."
-oOo-
Sherlock was in a foul mood the next morning, he'd been up all night trying to get his goo bullets to work with no success. John was about ready to start shooting the wall himself since Sherlock was driving him up it and making his head hurt. A text from Lestrade with a case was a God send.
However by the time they had arrived at the station John was beginning to regret coming, his headache was getting worse and once again Sherlock wasn't helping. The case had been simple enough, the detective had solved in within an few minutes just from crime scene photographs and a few trace pieces of evidence. Soon he was off on a rant about how the crook had done it and how the members of Scotland Yard were idiots for not realising it sooner.
John didn't bother listening, Sherlock wouldn't mind telling him gain later if it meant he'd praise him with his usual 'Amazing!'. He really should stop that his ego was big enough...
"Are you alright?"
John jumped from surprise and found non other than Sally Donovan looking at him.
"Oh yeah, fine." he lied still rubbing his temple. The pain was getting excruciating now.
"You look very tired." She noted.
Oh why did she have to say tired? Now he was feeling it himself and he wanted nothing more than to sink down into his bed and sleep for hours on end. Where was this fatigue coming from? He'd slept two nights ago.
"Just a headache." he lied again, silently praying that Sherlock would finish up soon.
"You're not letting that freak experiment on you right?" She asked looking sick. John felt his blood boil.
"No." He spat, "And do not call him a freak."
She shrugged like John was some ignorant child playing with a poisonous spider and walked off. Discreetly John tried to use his rings to stop the constantly pounding in his skull but they just seemed to make things worse. God he was tired...
"Come John," Sherlock called, "We're done here."
Finally.
"Hey John, are you alright mate?" Lestrade placed a hand on his shoulder, "You're pale."
"I'm fine, honestly!" He scoffed, he got enough coddling from Sherlock.
"You've got one of your headaches..." Sherlock noted.
"Come on, I'm knocking off now." Lestrade smiled, "I'll give you a lift back to Baker street."
"Really, it's fine Greg." John tried.
"Lestrade will be faster than a taxi." Sherlock pointed out, "Come along."
John didn't even need to open their connection to know Sherlock was getting worried about him. He leaned against the cool window as they drove, the cold soothed the pounding in his head somewhat.
"John, we're here." Sherlock nudged him gently, that's funny, he didn't remember closing his eyes.
He couldn't wait to get a cup of tea and then sink into bed for a couple of days. In his haste he stood up too quickly, only managing to take a few short steps onto the pavement before black spots began to dance across his vision. A pang of agony swept through his head, making him grip his face in an effort to make it stop. He blinked in an effort to clear them but this just resulted in more of his vision blurring and fading.
Vaguely he was aware that he was falling and somebody had caught him but his eyes were closed before he could see who it was. God he was so tired and his head hurt, he welcomes oblivion.
-oOo-
"John!"
Sherlock caught the Omega just in time,lowering him to the ground in his arms and shaking him gently.
"John, John!" he hissed, the unconscious man didn't stir.
"Sherlock, we need to get him inside," Lestrade whispered, "We're drawing a crowd."
He was right, a few quick glances around him revealed several pairs of eyes on himself and John. Nodding he carefully places one of the doctors arms around his shoulder and he other around Lestrade's and listed him from the ground. It took a bit of manoeuvring to get up the stairs but soon Sherlock was tucking John under the blankets of his bed while Lestrade wondered aloud.
"What happened?" He asked, "One minutes he's getting out of the car the next I see you both on the ground!"
"I don't know." Sherlock admitted, "He's been unwell lately."
"I thought it took a lot to get you two sick." Lestrade replied, he was the only one save Mycroft he knew the truth about them.
"Usually yes." Sherlock muttered, "Something is wrong."
"I simply wanted to see if you were still around."
Irene's words bounces around in his head. At the time he'd thought she was talking about survive Kell and Moriarty last year, now he was beginning to think she knew something he didn't. And that made him angry.
"So, what should we do?" Lestrade said finally.
"Now we wait."
I have to say I was disappointed in myself when the last chapter got so few reviews. But I'm working on making this better :) Promise.
