CHAPTER SIX: CHANGE OF PLANS
(Sorry it took so long. October is a demanding month for me because it's my birthday and halloween month. Basically, with two sets of parents, October is stressful. More in the after A/N if anyone cares. Which I'm sure no one does.)

Sherlock and Watson were released and given twenty-four hours to respond with an answer. The pair had gone to a hotel (which was free, curtesy of the government...) and were now arguing in their room.

"Sherlock, we have a life back in London! We can't just drop everything and stay here," John argued.
Sherlock nodded, "I agree."

"Sherlock, there's Mrs. Hudson, I bet she's worried sick, there's Scotland Yard and- did you just agree with me?"

He nodded again, "Yes John, I did. I don't want to stay here. Not forever at least. I think it would be a thrill though," with a small smirk he added, "and you did seem to have a knack for taking command over the Avengers."

John was tired. The bed looked extremely comfortable. He was really irritable as he said, "What are you talking about now?" He took off his shoes and sat down on the edge of his bed. God, it was fluffy.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and laid back, "I mean, dear John, that they understood your authority. The Hawk-guy quieted when you told him to hush. Even the 40's guy fell silent. Human dynamics-amazing little things-they tell you what other people think of you, how much they respect you, and how well they'll listen to you. John, those six glorious people need someone to look after them. You're perfect for the job."

The blogger grumbled and pulled the sheets over himself, "I don't care. I just want to go home. I'm not the one for the job. I'm getting a plane ticket back to London tomorrow if I can."

Sherlock was immensely disappointed in his friend but he said no more. Meanwhile, John was haunted by the memory of the last few hours. He remembered how he /needed/ to think and he /needed/ the others to quiet down so he could. So he told them to quiet. And they had. John thought nothing of it at the time, but thinking back on it now, that was pretty cool.

Sherlock, on the other hand, was now thinking about what answer he would give them. He was thinking it would be quite fun to work there. He was also thinking about the well-shaped redhead that was a part of the team. He kept getting mixed signals off of her, what was she? Who did she used to work for? Her nails were so clean and everything so well hidden. The younger Holmes brother screwed up his face into his pillow; the redhead, agent Romanoff, was a bit like Irene Adler, only not as forward.

-Morning-

They were at the airport again. The pair had sent word to Director Fury with their answer of 'no' and the added Sherlock saying 'for now'. So now they were ready to go home, back from America. Done with their vacation.

-It had been two years since their vacation to America. They had received a letter once every two months that assured them that SHIELD still wanted them within employment. It's time for Moriarty and Reichenbach.-

Sherlock and Watson were sitting in the lab at St. Bartholomew's hospital. Sherlock thought about what would happen in the next few hours. He looked over at his best friends and he knew that any minute he would receive a call informing him that Mrs. Hudson was dying.

Now was his last chance, "John."

He snapped his head up, "Yea?"

"Promise me something."

He was confused, "What?"

"You'll go work for SHIELD."

"Sherlock, what are you talking about? I'm staying right here."

"Just do it."

"No. Sherlock-" there was the call. He ran off. Sherlock sighed and looked at his phone as he received a message from Moriarty. /I'm waiting. -JM/

Sherlock was dead. He must've known what was going to happen. He must've.

John went back to his psychiatrist. She said that he'd get over it. He disagreed - He'd never get over Sherlock - and cancelled their meetings. John had a week of living alone before he cracked. There had been too many, "Oh, Sherlock I-" too much tea for two, too few cases solved and blog updates.

Sherlock was dead.

John thought he ought to join him.

He looked out the window at the sunset and watched it go down. The gun weighed so much in his hand and it took a lot to lift it to his head.

John took a final glance at the sunset before - there was a knock at his door. John cringed and held the gun tighter before the person knocked again, more urgently this time. John sighed and put it down on the desk.

Once at the door he said, "If you're looking for Sherlock he's not here-" he stopped as he saw who was there. It was Bruce Banner and Natasha Romanoff of the Avengers. John raised his eyebrows, "Oh hello, would you like to come in?"

"John," Bruce breathed out thankfully, "John, you should come with us."

He was confused and extremely on edge because of what he'd just been about to do, "What? I can't, I've got things going on here-"

"John, we know about Sherlock," Natasha said softly. She smiled sadly and put an arm on John's shoulder. "Please come with us."

John was resisitant as he backed up slightly and said, "No, I can't, I can't."

Bruce followed his foot steps, "In that window there? I've been there. I can't die though. Not like that. John, please, I know how you're feeling-"

"NO!" John yelled. Things went quiet as he collected himself, "I mean, no, Bruce, you don't know. He's dead - he's..." he trailed off, his voice cracking, and sat down. He put his head in his hands and breathed. The two Avengers went into the room.

"John, you need to come with us. We need you. Please come with us back to America," Natasha pleaded smoothly.

John took a second before nodding, "Yea. Yea, alright." He stood up, "Just. Give me a minute." He stood and looked at them until they got the message he wanted them to leave the flat.

When they did, John sat back down and caught his breath. Only five minutes ago he was going to have killed himself. But he was still alive. He stood up and went to his room to gather, well, he didn't know what he'd need. There was so much Sherlock in 221B that he didn't think he'd ever be able to move it all. So he took a couple jumpers (he made sure to take the striped one, it seemed to have been Sherlock's favorite) from his room then went to the living room they had shared. He looked around the room and took a breath before stepping out into the hallway. He knocked on the door of 221C and when Mrs. Hudson opened the door with a little hello, John hugged her and told her he was going away for a while. When she asked if she should keep the room upstairs John said he didn't care because he didn't know if he'd ever be back at 221B. (So Mrs. Hudson decided to let the room stay empty for a while.) Then John went outside where a sleek black car was waiting, much like the ones Mycroft used to send. So John got in the car and the Avengers were there and they loved him and it all worked out and Sherlock wasn't dead and he and John went back to 221B and it was all happy the end?

A/N wow, that took forever. I'm ashamed. Honest, I am. I used to kinda have insomnia and so I wrote for hours on end at night but I've done some stuff and stuff and ANYWAY I'm sleeping better now so I haven't had the nighttime blessing of the writing fairy.
By the way, GO. GO NOW. GO READ "Babysitters Club" by Shooting-stetsons RIGHT NOW (it's on fanfic). And don't come back because you'll only get heartbreak as I have no writing regimen and like I said, I've been actually sleeping at night. It's amazing, sleep is. You just lie there. And it's like you're dead. Like Sherlock. (Wedding Rat Bow)
If I get 10 people tell me in the comments to write another chapter I will - and you think that wouldn't be hard, there's like 20 some ot people following this.