Chapter 4: Injury
John glared at the floor as the police detectives moved around him.
Sherlock's latest case had resulted in one of their wildest chases ever, through a full warehouse.
John was as fit and nimble as the next guy, but when he'd seen the criminal pull a gun and aim it at Sherlock he'd panicked and lost his footing. It was stupid. If he'd just kept going he could've easily closed the gap and pulled his own gun to protect Sherlock. Instead he'd tumbled head over heels and landed with a badly sprained ankle.
Sherlock had been fine, of course. When wasn't he?
And now John was sitting relatively alone, on the hard cement floor while the police tided up and Sherlock was brilliant.
Sudden movement next to him caused him to turn his head. John brightened considerably when he saw Sherlock kneeling down next to him. "Ready to go?" the consulting detective asked.
"Absolutely," John replied, "Just give me a hand up and we can be on our way."
Sherlock shook his head. "I don't think so," he murmured. That was all the warning John received before Sherlock slid forward and lifted John into his arms.
"Sherlock!" John protested, but it was in vain as the younger man was already standing up. John slipped an arm around Sherlock's neck to steady himself.
John heard a few chuckled from the surrounding officers as they noticed Sherlock carrying him out of the crime scene bridal style. John blushed and pressed his face into Sherlock's shoulder. He could hear Sherlock chuckling softly.
"We'll be home soon. I'm sure you can guide me through bandaging you ankle."
John nodded a smiled. He might get teased for it later but he didn't care. Sherlock's arms were much preferable to the cold, hard floor.