Chapter 3 – the storm
John was hiding something from him. That wasn't unusual though since the man had often tried to hide things from him even though he always found out in the end. No the part that irked him was the fact that John was completely successful in hiding whatever it was. Now this would have been a big deal if the secret that John was hiding hadn't changed how he behaved. John had managed to keep secrets from him but he had always knew what the secret was about and out of respect for John left it alone most of the time.
It had been about a week since they had been back from Mycroft's hideout. At first things were very good and they had easily slipped comfortably back to their normal routine of solving cases and berating Lestrade's team for being incompetent and if Sherlock was a tad more considerate neither of them saw fit to mention it. But then it changed John became unnaturally calm all the time.
This calm John was not his John. His John was a whirlwind of emotion restrained under that soldier's training. He was a very strong speaker of sentiment and feeling. This John was an imposter. He was unflappable and agreeable in a most annoying way and in essence a shell of his John.
Sherlock did not like this so he started doing things just to get a reaction. He played his violin at midnight; his experiments became gruesome even by his standards and as a last resort shot up the wall again but that received nothing more than a shake of the head and a confiscation of the firearm which was promptly hidden.
Finally he was at his wits end and decided that he just had to confront him. 'I wonder if this is the kind of frustration that people feel with me.' He wondered as he lay on the sofa waiting for John to come home from the job that he insisted on having even though Sherlock thought that hi time would be better spent being his partner full-time.
The door opened and Sherlock stood and approached his flatmate.
"I'm not used to having to ask John. You know that. I experiment and deduce from the facts. But you are hiding something and you are hiding it well but you have to tell me John because it's changing you and I don't like it."
"Why do you care? As long as I can pay my half of the rent and can do your grunt work everything should be fine right?" John said in the monotone he had come to expect.
"Have you forgotten already what I said before? You are my friend John. Like I said I distance myself from my emotions but that doesn't mean that I don't have them at all. I am capable of caring John I thought you would know that."
"I do know that," John said with the tiniest crack in the unnaturally calm monotone.
"Then tell me what's going on John!" Sherlock demanded grabbing him around at the shoulders when he tried to move away.
Sherlock could see the moment that the facade shattered. He could pinpoint the exact second when the emotion, that had been held back for far too long, overrode it's imprisonment in the confines of the calmness.
John broke his hold and in a flash reversed it and suddenly the fact that Sherlock was taller than he was didn't register. Sherlock felt small and for the first time he feared John. The usual kind and understanding blue eyes were changed to a startling shade of gold, the grip on his body was so tight that he thought he would have bruises by the end of the encounter if not broken bones. He felt himself shoved until he was against the wall and were those claws digging into his arm? He dare not turn and look because at this moment he thought he was going to die and for the first time he was scared for his life because he had never foreseen this circumstance because he had placed the ultimate trust in John.
Then it was over. John stepped back mouth agape in horror at the fact that he had not only scared Sherlock, his friend his best friend, he had hurt him to he could smell the blood and suddenly it was over. All of it the adventure friendship, all of it down the drain and it was his fault because he couldn't stay calm and restrain himself.
"I'm… Sorry." He choked out and then he ran. He didn't even watch where he was going it didn't matter anymore. He would welcome death he deserved it. For the first time since he had met the irritating genius child of a man he wished that the bullet had killed him back in that sandy desert. He never wanted to be found and he knew to do that he would have to go underground or leave London and go to the country because it wouldn't do to have Mycroft track him down with those CCTV cameras.
Sherlock was still in the flat though he had slid down the wall in shock. His mind was whirling though. 'He left. He's gone. He was hiding everything for my protection for other's protection. I should have known should have seen it before I pushed him now he's gone.' Sherlock stood on his he had to find John. John was a danger to himself right now and for a moment Sherlock considered that the man might end it all. Quickly he shook off the thought it wasn't helping. He could forego the call to Mycroft because he knew that John's first thought would be to escape to someplace that those pesky cameras couldn't find him.
Suddenly the door opened and he came face to face with Lestrade who was being followed by Donovan, Anderson, and some other guy that he barely took the time to notice. He scowled he didn't have time for Lestrade and his merry band of idiots he had to find John.
"What's the big idea not answering your phone?" Lestrade asked walking over like he had every right to barge in whenever he felt like it. Sherlock said nothing and just looked at him coldly.
"I'm busy." He said as he attempted to walk around the DI only to be grabbed about the shoulders in the exact same fashion as John had grabbed him. Lestrade's eyes widened when he felt the sticky blood, hidden from sight because of the dark fabric of Sherlock's shirt, coat his fingers.
The DI was even more surprised when the self-proclaimed sociopath collapsed against him. After sitting the man down on the couch with a little help from Donovan he could see that for once Sherlock had gone into shock. The DI was worried now so he reached into his pocket to get his cellphone only to be stopped by a pale a trembling hand grabbing his wrist in a grip that was sure to leave a bruise.
"No." said the consulting detective in a voice that was a mere shadow of his usual arrogant tone.
Respecting the man's wishes, for now at least, he looked over at Donovan and said "Go get the first aid kit it's in the kitchen in the cabinet above the sink."
Sherlock's mind was in utter turmoil. Lesrade just had to touch him didn't he? Just had to make his body relive the encounter with John in vivid detail didn't he? He needed to be out looking for John but instead he was at home unable to move trapped by his body's reactions.
Suddenly he stiffened. Something stung. It was then he realized that Lestrade was treating his wounds. When had his shirt been removed? There was a snap that he identified as the first aid kit being shut he had heard that sound plenty of times before. He tried to get up his legs were shaking though and he felt a bit chilled for some reason. Then he remembered that his shirt was off. He organized the facts in his mind as best he could as he fell back on the couch. First he needed to find John, so he needed to get out of shock. So he did the only thing he could think to do. Gave himself something else to focus on instead. Before anyone could figure out what he was doing stop him he bit down hard into the skin on his wrist. As the pain became more pronounced his mind started to clear. Unfortunately the bite broke the skin but he figured that it was a fair trade for the returned usage of his mind.
Lestrade , on the other hand didn't agree. "What the hell Sherlock!? Are you a bloody masochist!? I just finished playing doctor on those cuts on your arms and you go and deal yourself more damage!" Lestrade said outraged. His face becoming red from anger.
"Calm yourself Detective inspector I couldn't function so I remedied the problem. Now if you'll excuse me I have to go," and with that Sherlock donned his ruined shirt and tossed on his coat walking out the door.
/
Sherlock had been in the tunnels for the last four hours searching knowing that this was the only place that was virtually out of reach of cameras in the city. He only hoped that John hadn't left the city. So lost in his thoughts was he that he didn't even notice the person coming right up behind him until he was being choke against the tunnel wall.
He just might have laughed had he had enough air to do so. The hand that was choking him belonged to someone he never truly expected to see again. It was the Golem and this time it didn't seem as though he was going to get away. Dark spots were clouding his vision when he heard the low growl vibrating through the tunnel. Suddenly he could breathe again.
He opened his eyes not aware of the moment they had closed and he saw a sight that made him stare. A six foot beast that resembled a husky was biting at the neck of the huge man. When the Golem tried to reach out to its neck the beast skillfully dodged and took a swipe at the man with its massive paw.
The Golem grunted and charged tackling the animal and it landed on its back underside exposed. When the Golem went to take advantage of this Sherlock saw that the beast had merely played possum to lure the brute in and as he came closer the teeth of the beast snapped around the brute;s neck. The Golem struggled but it did no good as the pain he inflicted only served to make the beast bite down harder until the man was dead and bleeding out upon the tunnel floor.
The beast shook himself, nudged the dead killer with a paw and walked over to where Sherlock had remained throughout the battle on three paws with the right forepaw held up. When he stood just inches from Sherlock it bent down and nudged him softly and looked at him with worried blue eyes.
That was when he realized. "John?" he asked.
The animal smiled at the fact that he was recognized. Gently John moved between Sherlock and the tunnel wall and wrapped him warm body around the man who for the third time today had gone into shock.
"Better than that hideous orange blanket." John heard Sherlock mummer as he settled into the warm fur that now coated his body. John wrapped his tail around the man pulling himself closer and barked out a laugh and when Sherlock realized the vibrating around him for laughter he couldn't help but join in with him.
A/N finally done with chapter three. Sherlock feels a bit OOC but hey what can I do this stuff is writing itself. I must like this story 'cause it's becoming so long and I'm updating so quick. I've started on the next chap already to. Anyway thanks for reading and to those guests that reviewed thanks a lot. To those that commented signed in thank you and if I haven't sent you a reply for the review I'm sorry and I will later. As always thx for reading. R and R.
PS if there is something that you wanna see happen in the story leave a note in the review and I'll see if I can work it in cause I love challenges. ^_^
Ta ta for now until chap 4.