Salvation

Something in John's shock breaks when he sees Sherlock go under again. He pushes back and Anderson falls smack on his rear in the mud.

John swan dives. Little red dots_sniper rifles_train on the water's surface. A million and one, but John doesn't see it. He swims serpentine and against all reason to the spot he saw him go under.

It's instant forgiveness when his head sinks below waters. He reaches out a hand, blind in the dark.

He feels a hand reach back and clasp.


It may be another dream within a dream. All of his thoughts rolling back, numbed out, blurred by the cold. An intense light, a fog light, trains on the water. Above? It might be coming from above and beyond where the kill squad's chopper roars.

But the light is bright enough that under water Sherlock is face to face and inches away from John.

John has clasped his hand. To haul him free of his chains, and back to the surface.

Sherlock feels like might lose consciousness when their heads break water. Shots scatter the current, unclear in the dark. Now they both could die.

"You git," John hissed. The bullets whizzed by.

Sherlock was never once so glad.