Exception to the Rule

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Chapter Nine


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It was the dying moans that John Watson couldn't stand, not the sound of bullets hitting dirt or bombs rendering buildings to rubble. He could take the battlefield and the chaos that defined it, but when there was blood and shredded flesh to work with, everything adopted a sharpness which bit into his resolve. He remembered the smell of cauterized muscle and the feel of being wrist deep in a man's abdomen. He recalled how confused he was when his patient was still breathing yet the his intestines looked like the inside of a meat grinder. He was wondering if he should use what little morphine he had left to ease the soldier's passing, when strange words warbled into his head.

"You can't be serious! The man might be thrown into the Thames with cement shoes and you're busyin' about with a prisoner?"

It was a woman arguing. What was a woman doing on a battlefield?

In a daze John blinked, finding his surroundings falling away into a foreign darkness he couldn't immediately recognize.

"He's not a prisoner, he's a friend of Holmes," came the voice of Lestrade outside of John's cell. The jingle of keys made the doctor sit up and rub his face. The woolen blanket that embraced him while he slept fell to the floor.

"What's all this then...?" He mumbled, looking from the Detective Inspector to the light-haired woman at his side. She didn't look pleased at all to be there, and her dress was casual streetwear which made John wonder at her purpose here at the yard.

"If you're a friend of 'olmes, then you tell me! That fellow came into my boyfriend's place lookin' like a sheep being led to slaughter." The story seemed to burst from her mouth unbidden. Her voice carried down the hall making several people poke their heads down the corridor. "'e got into a bad fight and was carried off... but I felt bad for the guy. I recognized 'is name from some of the newspaper clippin's my beau likes to pin up an' figured that 'e was Lestrade's man." She glared at the inspector with fire in her eyes. "Yet I'm bein' treated like a bloody criminal; and 'ere I was tryin' to be 'elpful!"

John stared at the woman, "What do you mean 'carried off'? By who and to where?"

"I don't know, but I can guess."

Lestrade sighed angrily, "Now see here, we can't afford another wild goose chase - and I know the company you keep Ms. Winter. I don't buy that you're here because you feel like being a Good Samaritan."

"That man didn't deserve what 'e got! I saw 'im all a thither when they 'eld 'is brother's fate over 'is 'ead; it wasn't decent. I knew Adelbert didn't 'ave anything to do with it really. I don't want this to dirty 'is name if that bloke crops up dead. It's that Milverton fellow's idea. I don't want my Adelbert involved, that's all!"

John shook his head, still confused. "Detective Inspector... is there a reason you're outside my cell... with... err..."

"Kitty, Kitty Winter." She said, breaking from her usual tirade to show some proper manners.

Lestrade looked uncomfortable. "Well, Miss Winter burst in on a confession by a Mrs. Roberts who admitted to the murder of Daniel Wilkins. Apparently Holmes swore her to secrecy, promising some legal assistance if she held off turning herself in; but there have been some recent attempts against her life and those of her sisters that loosened her tongue a little early."

"Isn't that illegal?"

"Oh yes. Sherlock Holmes will be replacing you in that cell the moment we lay hands on him. I was hoping you'd help now that you're a free man."

"Gladly... but he got himself into trouble? Well... more trouble than usual?" John turned back to Miss Winter.

"The Marrow brother's were sent to dispose of Mr. 'olmes last I knew. I excused myself just as they were leavin'. They headed east down the Thames... towards the docks. We're wastin' time; you'll never catch them up now."

John left his cell in a rush, passing Lestrade and Winter like a man on a mission. "We should split up, cover more ground. What do these brothers look like?"

Kitty Winter jogged to catch up - glad that someone was taking the initiative. "Ugly fellows; balding, stocky in build, brown moustaches and dark trench coats mostly - nasty type. What'd your friend do to piss off Milverton?"

"I have no idea. You have a car?" John asked suddenly, realizing that chasing down thugs in the dark was going to rack up when hell of a cab bill. It was that or cruise around in a police car with Lestrade alerting everyone that they were looking for mischief.

"Yeah, you coming with me? I'm not a fan of the DI..." Kitty offered.

Lestrade huffed. "Feeling's mutual sweetheart, that man of yours has a rap sheet longer then the Thames - and you're a fool not to believe it."

"Wrong place, wrong time!" She snapped back, making John roll his eyes.

They split up outside of the yard, but not before Lestrade caught John's shoulder and held him up as Kitty kept walking. "Look, John, this woman isn't on our side of the fence. For all I know she could be a part of whatever the hell is going on around here. I need you to be vigilant. I'm going to try the squeezing some information out of my informants on the street while you stick to Winter like glue. You have my number?"

"Sherlock added it last week…" John started, about to comment on the fact that he worked with Sherlock enough to know that danger could be found in the most innocent of things, but he was interrupted.

"Good, put it on speed dial in case of trouble." He patted John's shoulder before talking off towards his cruiser without another word. John stood there in a mild daze before he heard Kitty shout at him from behind. "Oi, you, we're runnin' out of time you know?"

She was leaning out of the window of an expensive looking Austin-Healey. It was blue and for some reason John got a bad impression from it. He jogged over to the passenger side and got in.

"We need to stop off at my place first. 221B Baker Street."

Kitty looked irritated, "Are you sure you have the time for a bloody pit stop?"

"Baker Street please." He clicked his seat belt into place, wary about a few of the dents he spotted on the outside of Kitty's car. It was a wise decision on his part, for the woman gunned it out of her parking space faster then most get-a-way vehicles John had seen. Her speed was impressive, if not a bit frightening, and he had his hands on his gun in less than ten minutes.

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The slow drag through the darkest and most unpleasant streets of London did nothing to keep John's imagination from running wild with the thousand of horrible ways he could find his flatmate dead. Soon that was replaced with even darker thoughts; if Moriarty was truly the face behind this latest string of unpleasantries, then he might find his friend in a state worse than death - for Moriarty seemed like a man who liked to play with his food before he ate it.

The passing sodium street lamps sent an intermittent light rolling over the surfaces of Kitty's car. The soft orange glows made the scenery appear unnatural, making the doctor anxious. John tried to keep his eyes on the sidewalks, searching for anything that would lead him to Sherlock, but he caught the reflection of his face in the window. He did a double take; his lips had set themselves into a hard line, and his eyes looked hollow. He knew that face - it was the expression that met wounded soldiers on the battlefield, and the face that would meet Sherlock if he wasn't careful.

"So… you an 'im, friends or friends?" Kitty Winter blurted unexpectedly, causing John to whip his face around and stare at her incredulously.

"Colleagues… just colleagues." His tone had a sharpness in it that made the driver raise her eyebrow.

"Really?" She flashed a smile that was a little mischievous, "Why, I'd have liked a colleague who'd jump to my rescue with a gun and everythin' at a moments notice."

"You don't know Sherlock, he can be-" John froze, his eyes locking on something familliar. "STOP! There! Back-up a bit… down the alleyway…" John pointed to a man who was smoking a cigarette down a particularly narrow lane. He was leaning against the old brickwork, his figure half out of the light.

As Kitty reversed slowly, John ripped off his seatbelt and vaulted from the car. The man in the alleyway dropped his cigarette and made to run into the darkness but John pulled out his gun and with the speed of a trained soldier, levelled it at the man. "Move and I shoot."

There was a moment of hesitation before the man moved and John shot.

One clear hit to the back of his calf sent the victim sprawling forward into the grit of the alleyway. John advanced, covering the only exit to the street. His eyes roamed over his target as Kitty ran up behind him a panicked expression.

"Just what the 'ell do you think you're doin' shootin' guys in the middle of the street!" Obviously Kitty thought she was in the company of a lunatic.

John's arm didn't waver as he kept his gun pointed at his target, "He's wearing Sherlock's coat. I can spot that coat anywhere… and it's definitely his coat." He knelt next to the fallen man and grabbed him by his greasy hair. With one rough movement the doctor yanked his head up and looked into the man's grime-streaked face, "Where did you get this coat?"

The man said nothing, and the door to John's left opened making him whip his arm around to play defensive - but not before smashing his target's face into the ground in order to daze him. Suddenly two men entered the scene, fitting Kitty's earlier description of the Marrow brothers.

"Who the hell are you?" The taller one asked, eyeing John's gun with contempt. He was a big fellow, with eyes like steel.

"Where is Sherlock Homes?"

Now that the doctor's reason for being there had been decalred, the taller Marrow brother smiled cruelly. This was nothing but a business transaction with Marrow having the goods and Watson the need for those goods. The thug cracked his knuckles and tried to make himself more intimidating. "Who wants to know?"

"I do. Tell me." John wasn't rattled by scum; he knew he had the advantage.

"No."

Marrow went to withdrew something from the inside of his coat and the doctor shot him in the shoulder without hesitation. He fell like a sack of bricks and howled the entire time. His shorter brother was startled and went to check on his sibling but John's gun was suddenly in his face.

"That was a bad answer on your brother's part. Don't make me repeat myself."

Blood blossomed freely from the wound in the fallen man's shoulder. The sight visibly affected the shorter Marrow brother and he started to sweat. "You killed him… he's gunna bleed out like that you fucked up psycho!"

"If you don't tell me where Sherlock Holmes is, both of you will be bleeding out in this alleyway." He paused to let his words sink in. "On the other hand, I am a doctor - I have some experience on shoulder injuries too. They hurt a lot. Not as much as a shot to the groin I suspect though…" He lowered his gun several inches and the man's face warped into one of understanding.

"All right, all right! We dropped him off at the old chemical plant on Flaherty. He was alive when he left him… not sure about now."

"Did you deliever him to Moriarty?"

"No... who the hell is Moriarty? We just dumped him in the storm drain-"

Marrow was interrupted by a shot to the foot. The brute jumped once, spraying blood everywhere before sending himself flying backwards to land hard on his backside. He shuttered in agony, but it didn't stop him from yelling, "What did you go and do that for!"

John didn't answer as he turned around to his first victim, who was still groaning in the filth of the alleyway with his leg bleeding. He stripped the man of Sherlock's coat and brushed it off a few times before he grabbed Kitty and pushed her towards her car. "Come on, we need to get to that plant."

"You just shot all three of them…" Her voice was faint and she entered her car in a sort of a trance.

"Someone will have heard the shots and sent the authorities. They'll all live." That was more then he could say for Sherlock - who might all ready be dead. John tried not to think of what he'd find at the chemical plant and focused instead on getting there. In the front seat Kitty started the car and tried not to shake. John realized that he probably seemed as bad as those idiots in the alley. He tried to soften his expression, but he found he couldn't; he was so filled with anger and adrenaline, and his only outlet at the moment was his military training.

"It was necessary to shoot them Kitty. Now they can't follow us and they'll be more concerned with their injuries than with sending someone after us."

"I-I know, you just seemed a different person is all…" She focused on the road as John stared at his gun, wondering if Sherlock would be alive by the end of this nightmare. The powder burns on his hand made the fierceness of his face fade a fraction as his mouth twitched into a very small smile. Maybe it would be another close call like the night with the killer cabbie, the chemical plant ending up as just another crime scene to giggle at when the danger was over.

Or maybe it would be where everything ended.

The smile disappeared and John was left feeling more vacant then ever. He called Lestrade and told him the potential location of Holmes before hanging up and staring out the windshield, waiting for the moment he'd find Sherlock - hopefully in one piece.

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Author's Note:

So this was a very very late update, not to mention a short chapter. I'm sorry - midterms, trip to Vancouver, now I'm super sick... life just likes to throw everything at me all at once. Thank-you for all the reviews last chapter! I re-read them all to get me pumped up - it worked! You're all so wonderful.

I love John. He just seems like the kind of person who can be so damn badass if given the chance. The scene with Mycroft, the shooting of the cabbie, the way he acted when he and Sarah were captured by the Black Lotus... he can be pretty damn tough - I wanted to show that. John is no damsel in distress! The next chapter might be the last one... I'm not so sure now. I'm debating doing it from Moriarty's perspective... but his thoughts are very different from both Sherlock and John - I might creep you out a little.

Please read and review! You all have been so good to me lately and I KNOW that there are plenty of errors in this chapter (I'm very much hopped up on Neo Citron and Tylenol).