A/N Hey ya'll! I am SO sorry for the long wait. I got caught up with putting on a show and all that. But how 'bout that series 4, huh? Thanks for reading this far and please enjoy ^_^
GamerWolf156 - Thank you! If I ever catch up on the show I might check it out :)
All was fairly silent in 221B – Sherlock was working quietly on an experiment and John was reading the paper – when there was a loud rumble and the ground shook briefly. Both Sherlock and John shot up and looked around. John stood and headed towards the window, peaking through the curtains. People were running down the street and pulling out their phones either to call or video what was going on. John tried to get a better look around the corner from where he was and his eyes widened. "Oh, God, Sherlock…"
The detective stood and walked over to where his flatmate was, looking out the window as well. Smoke billowed around the corner. "The Baker Street Station was bombed," Sherlock stated.
John looked up at Sherlock in disbelief. "What, seriously?"
The consulting detective began walking to the door and John promptly followed. "Wait, Sherlock!" As Sherlock was slipping his coat on John stopped him. "You can't just run out there – people are injured, shocked, and in panic right now, we don't need to add anything to it."
Sherlock seemed hesitant to listen to his friend's advice, but conceded in the end. He simply took to watching the chaos from the window, trying to put together what exactly had happened.
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No doorbell ring, no knocking, but there were heavy footsteps to be heard on the staircase – conclusion: Lestrade. It had been a couple of days since the bombing but the after effects were hardly over. The station would be out of commission for the next week which was inconvenient for many commuters, and there was widespread paranoia throughout London. But with the city and it's people only beginning to cope, the case had just begun.
Lestrade entered the flat with a file in his hand and John entered from the kitchen to great the officer. Sherlock sat up straight and snapped his book shut. "There's more to the bombing isn't there?" Lestrade nodded wordlessly. "It wasn't a terrorist attack or else someone would have taken credit by now and you wouldn't be coming to me. So someone's probably alive. Who?"
"The bomber," Lestrade answered. "There's some footage if you want to take a look." Lestrade offered Sherlock a memory stick and the consulting detective accepted it. He went over to his laptop, inserted the memory stick and opened the appropriate file.
The video flickered to life, showing security footage of Baker Street Station. The bomber in question stood on the platform, looked both ways, then a sick smile spread across his face. Without any button or form of trigger, a millisecond of an explosion emanating from the man's body was visible before the footage cut out.
"That doesn't make any sense," John commented, leaning over the chair Sherlock sat in. "I mean, his clothes were too thin to contain any major explosive and he didn't seem to trigger the explosion at all." He shot his flatmate a look. "Could he have had accomplices?"
Sherlock remained silent, rewinding the video and playing it again. "No. No, the explosion came from him, not from anywhere else on the platform."
"But how?" Lestrade questioned. He stood up straight. "I'll be heading back to Scotland Yard – contact me if you find anything." Sherlock didn't respond and the DI left.
Sherlock got to work on putting together an email for Coulson. "You think he might be a mutant?" John questioned.
"Always a possibility," Sherlock answered, finishing up the message and sending it. "If he isn't the case will be much more interesting." He rewatched the video, slowing down frame-by-frame to trace the origin of the explosion.
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John was already asleep when his phone buzzed on the nightstand beside him. Jerking awake, the doctor reached for his mobile and read the message.
Euston Station. Bring your gun. - SH
John shot up and quickly scrambled out from underneath his covers, hurrying to get changed. He took his gun from the bottom drawer of his dresser and tucked it safely into his jeans before heading down the stairs.
It didn't take John very long to get to Euston Station and spotting Sherlock was easy enough. "Something about our bomber, I assume." John said. His flatmate nodded.
"I've been keeping tabs on him and with the help of Agent Coulson I tracked him here." Sherlock began walking further into the station. "If I'm correct – and I usually am – he should be getting on the Central Line."
The detective and the blogger traveled down the escalators onto the platform. Sure enough, there stood the bomber who most surely should have been dead. Luckily, the rest of the platform was empty, sparing any civilians from what might happen. He heard the footsteps behind him and looked over his shoulder. In a flash he began running down the platform, Sherlock and John quickly chasing after him. With finding no other place to go, the pyromaniac jumped down off the platform. "Come on!" should Sherlock, noticing John's hesitation. "Just avoid the tracks, you'll be fine!" Without another thought, John jumped down from the platform.
The further from the station they got, the harder it became to see. Having not brought a torch, John fumbled for his phone while he ran, trying to provide some form of light. The bomber wasn't too far ahead, hesitating every time he came across a track. As much as he wanted to catch the bomber, John also didn't know when the next train was coming and how easily he and Sherlock could get out of the way.
For a moment they were both afraid of losing the bomber in the darkness of the underground. Then there was a 'thwap!' sound that came from above and a shout before the detective and the blogger heard the bomber fall to the ground. John slowed and pointed his phone in the direction of the fallen man and saw that he had what appeared to be an arrow in his leg. The bomber tried to stand, huffed, then fell, not moving again.
While John was staring at the fallen pyromaniac, Sherlock was staring up towards the ceiling, looking for the source of the attack. "Thanks, guys," came an American voice from the darkness. There was a thud as feet hit the ground and a click as a light turned on. "I've been trackin' this dude for weeks. You're lucky he hasn't had enough time to recharge or else we'd all've been blown to pieces." The man extended a hand. "The name's Agent Clint Barton."
"You're Hawkeye," Sherlock said quickly, not a statement, but a question. He accepted the handshake. "I thought you and half of the Avengers were wanted criminals for violating the Sakovia Accords."
Clint shrugged. "Still am and still are, but SHIELD still appreciates me – no matter how broken it is at this point."
John stepped forward. "You're Hawkeye? As in, the Avenger Hawkeye?" Clint nodded with a grin as he shook John's hand. "Wow…uh, I…It's an honor to meet you!"
"You're Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, right? Pleasure's mine." He looked over at the unconscious bomber and down the tracks. "As much as I'd like to chat I'm afraid I've got a nitrokinetic to turn into SHIELD and a wanted man to be. Not to mention next train's coming in two minutes so we should clear out." He walked over to the bomber then quickly turned back to the others. "Oh, and I'd be happy to help wrangle mutants so if you ever need any assistance just let Phil know."
"Which one?"
"Coulson," said Clint, as if he were a bit offended. "God, I can't stand Anderson."
"See, John?" said Sherlock, gesturing to the archer. "I'm not the only one!"
"Yeah, I never said you were," mumbled John, grabbing his flatmate's arm and leading him back the way they came. "Thank you, Agent Barton!" he called out over his shoulder.
"No problem!" the agent shouted back.
A/N Ta-Dah! Here's another chapter :D Hope you enjoyed that guest Avenger. Thank you for reading and please review!