I never added credit it, but thanks to this person for writing a beautifully detailed script of the whole Sherlock series! I wouldn't be able to do this without it! (and you readers as well! Thanks for the love!)
"This is where she was last seen?" Sherlock asked looking around as the area.
"Yup, Trevor said this was here it happened." The homeless man of thirty-two, Nick, told as he lead him under the highway as cars loudly sped by. "Sorry I couldn't find Trevor, he's usually hanging around here with Hawkeye away."
"Does he now?" Sherlock gazed about finding the said outdoor furnace where she said was as described. He approached it, but with caution not wanting to recreate what she did.
"Yup." He answered. "Though isn't here today. He might be off getting food, he should return." He assured.
"Is Trevor as skillful as Hawkeye?" Sherlock asked tapping his knuckle against the metal.
The man laughed, "God no!" He looked over, as the man smiled. "Trevor's a good kid, Hawk was his first friend when he lost his career. Been attached to her ever since."
"How long?" Sherlock asked taking a flashlight from his pocket.
"Ahh, hmm…" He crossed his arms thinking. "About four years, he was twenty-two. After that, his whole life fell apart."
Sherlock turned back to the furnace, he gave it a kick earning a ringing sound. He turned the flashlight on and shot the light inside, it was covered in black, no doubt from that explosion on Helena. Question was, what caused it. Deeming it safe, he slowly peeked inside scanning as much as his eyes strained to see.
Oh, something was shining on the bottom. He went into his tool kit getting his kit, taking out a small plastic dish and scalpel. Sherlock held the dish under as he scraped residue into the dish not wanting to touch whatever it was. Taking a look through the dish, it was indeed a dust residue of a metal. He'd remember to examine them later.
In case he found anything else, he scoured how hands abound the bottom feeling a small object, he pulled it out seeing it was an electric lighter.. "Someone forgot something.." He grinned and pocketed it as well.
"Oh hey, there he is Mr. Holmes." Sherlock turned forgetting the filthy man was with him seeing the young boy Trevor trotting over. "Trevor!" The man and waving his hand in the air.
Trevor couldn't see Sherlock at the angle instantly assuming Nick was there alone. "Hey, what are you doing here?" He approached Nick as Sherlock walked up behind him. "It's a bit dangerous here."
"Is it now?" Trevor gulped at the voice, Nick wasn't alone as he thought. He turned around seeing the tall detective smirk grimly at him. "Hello, Trevor."
"..Mr. Holmes." He greeted with a small glare. "What are you poking your nose around here for?"
Nick came over, "Calm boy, he's just here to find out how Hawkeye got hurt." he assured.
Trevor looked to Nick then wiped back to Sherlock. "Is he now?" Trevor shoved his hands into his back pockets. "Anything on what happened to her?"
"Well, you were there, 'Trev' surely your side of the story could help. Since Helena-"
"Hawkeye." he corrected.
Sherlock paused, but continued at Trevor's interruption. "-was blinded, maybe you can shed light on to what happened." He shoved his hands on his coat pocket and gave a light glare.
"I-I don't think Hawkeye would appreciate you getting involved." He shifted from foot to foot in attempt to slowly put some space between the two.
Sherlock shifted two steps forward to keep the distance short. "I assure that she has told me her side of the story, but declined to add detail as she doesn't remember much." He cleared his throat and gave a low stare. "What. Happened." He requested thickly.
Trevor gulped heavily, despite this thin figure, he was sure Sherlock could take him down. He's heard the stories from Hawkeye, Sherlock knew his way around fighting guys bigger than Trevor himself. Someone you don't want to piss off.
"Alright, I'll tell." He cried holding hands up and finally making the space between them a couple feet. "I was over by the furniture there checking out what else we can salvage." Trevor nodded his head to the couch behind him. "The furnace was to be used for the winter season, Hawkeye thought it was a great idea. She said she'd inspect it for safety, I wasn't looking when it happened but I heard a small explosion and then she was screaming bloody murder."
Sherlock nodded at Trevor's tale. "What was she using to look inside?"
"Um, a match a think." He gave a thoughtful scratch to his nose. "She carries one around in case it's needed. She's told me how you smoke and all." He added.
With a sigh escaping his lips, he found himself finished with the story. He didn't know what caused the explosion but he got a good look and some evidence to look at under his scope. His eyes shot from the road leading to the highway above to Trevor, brows narrowed. "Might I ask where that came from?"
Sherlock indicated the bruise on his jawline, looked fresh. "Oh, um just got tussled with a bad pack. Not much of a fighter." He chuckled with a shrug.
The detective nodded at his answer, "Well, I'll be taking my leave. Trevor, Nick." He nodded to them and left down the short hillside. John was currently looking into the Westie case, unbeknownst to the doctor as to Sherlock's own investigations to Helena's case.
"I say, Trevor, where's that precious hat of yours?" Nick asked as Trevor trudged over to him.
"Oh, uh, I seem to have lost it during that scuff." He smiled sheepishly.
Nick gutted out a laugh patting his back. "Don't expect Hawk to steal you a new one!"
The train over above in the distance hollered a horn for all to hear it's turning arrival. On the lower ground down the railway tracks, John wearing an orange high-visibility jacket over his coat -mandatory for the area- was walking along the railways with a guard wearing a jumpsuit of the same color. The very guard who found Andrew West's body. While Sherlock was off somewhere else, in John's hope finding Helena, he was here investigating Mycroft's case.
"So this is where West was found?" John asked his little notepad and pencil in hand.
"Yeah." The guard answered. John nodded, "You gonna be long?" The guard asked.
"I might be." He answered.
"You with the police, then?"
Common question John was receiving this week. "Sort of."
"I hate 'em."
John looked over to him. "The police?"
He shook his head looking to him as John checked his pencil. "No. Jumpers. People who chuck themselves in front of trains. Selfish bastards."
"Well thats," John sighed and paused his walk. "one way of looking at it." He squat down to look at the track, the location of West's body was found.
"I mean it." Said the guard standing behind him. "It's alright for them. It's over in a split second- strawberry jam all over the lines. What about the drivers, hmm?" John could feel the irritation come off the man, he sounded more annoyed finding Westie here. He rubbed his fingers on the tracks to find anything, but fingers came clean."They've gotta live with it, haven't they?"
"Yeah, speaking of no strawberry jam," John looked up as he stood. "there's no blood on the line. Has it been cleaned off?"
"No, there wasn't that much."
That didn't sound right to John, he knew Helena would feel that same with her input on the banker case. "You said his head was smashed in."
"Well, it was, but there wasn't much blood." He told.
John turned, well that made perfect sense. He just couldn't wrap his mind around it. "...Okay."
He looked down the tracks and walked further, the guard had to return to his job. "Well, I'll leave you to it then." John squatted down again at the guard called out, "Just give us a shout when you're off!"
"Right!" John hollered back and returned his attention to the tracks standing once again.
"Right; so Andrew West got on the train somewhere- or did he?" John felt completely out of place, he was so used to Sherlock and now Helena to figure things out while he chimed in. "There's no ticket on the body." He recalled. "Then how'd he end up here?"
The screech of the tracks change sliding from one end connecting to the other. John squats down for the last time gazing at them in deep thought.
"Points."
"Yes!" Jumping to his feet at Sherlock's sudden and without warning input, he turned seeing him standing just behind him. Though he was alone- no Helena in sight… still.
"Knew you'd get there eventually. West wasn't killed here;" Sherlock confirmed. "that's why there was so little blood."
"How long have you been following me?" John questions.
"Since the start." He half lied, hands folded behind his back. "You don't think I'd give up on a case like this just to spite my brother, do you?"
John was to answer, but he had something else in mind. "...I was expecting Helena to be here. Didn't find her?"
Sherlock looked to John from the tracks. "She's with her old friends in the network." He lied- again. Sherlock had no honest idea where that girl was with her running off, but he had to be with Mycroft or at Baker Street with Mrs. Hudson.
"Come on." He turned away. "Got a bit of burglary to do."
John followed after removing his vest to return to the guard. Knowing Helena was with that friend she spoke of; Trevor and the community she probably felt more at home then at the flat.
The sky was now a red hues as the sun started to set. Though it was a beautiful sight, all but one important person was unable to see it. The man enjoyed seeing her quiver being cuffed by the wrists behind her, though blind she can feel the wind blow her hair about knowing she was on the roof of a building.
"This is such a pretty sight," Cooed the man standing a few feet away gazing at the sky over London, he turned to her with a cheeky grin. "I can see why you favor it so."
She let a whimper out bit bit back any more signs of weakness her body tried to give. Knowing she was outside calmed her better than being stuck in the car she was abducted in. It felt tiny, not as spacious as Mycroft's. Helena just chose to sit there listening to this man prod on.
"Jumping from roof to roof, climbing the tallest buildings of London, all just to feel as free as a bird." He chuckled striding to her, his accent sounded posh but she felt some Irish in there. "I'm truly sorry." He mocked, making her shudder as she felt him right in her ear.
"For what?" She dared questioned with a shaky voice.
Moriarty's cheek touched her's for only a split second as he softly murmured. "Robbed of this auburn sky."
Just after confirming with John he would return the missile plans to Mycroft, Sherlock was instead at St. Bart's looking into the residue from the hearth. Question was what was the residue originally from?
He knew the dust had to be related to a flame to react the way it did. Sherlock also checked the dust on the cloth from her jacket, finding identical silver/white particles within the fabric. He had questioned those before, but never gave a thought until now.
Trying out what this dust could be, he tried lighting a match to them but only a small spark. "...Something ignited to blind her." He concluded, and rushed over to his laptop and going to the search bar typing 'metal reactions to fire'.
A few video links popped up, the most metal that got results was Magnesium. He clicked the first link watching a strip of the silver metal have a light flame up against the tip. It took a while, but once the heat rose on it, a white blinding light shined off it. The bigger the flame the bright the spark was.
"...Magnesium." Pausing the video, Sherlock sat the bench entering his mind palace.
'Magnesium is a highly flammable metal, especially when powdered or shaved into thin strips. It is, however, difficult to ignite in mass or bulk.' The said metal must have been a bar shaved inside with enough to not cause fatal harm to Helena within her distance, but enough to cause damage to her retinas and the sparks jumped at her face causing the true pain she mentioned. What caused the spark, Sherlock eyed the electric lighter.
"What was she using to look inside?"
"Um, a match a think. She carries one around in case it's needed. She's told me how you smoke and all."
Sherlock confirmed this to be a lie; Helena had a flashlight like his own and John's. She used it during the blackout a few times when the candles were not in her favor to find things. Never had he seen matches or a lighter such as this on her person. It seemed risky with her living on the streets, nor ever as he asked her for a light as he didn't smoke when she was around. The craving never came when she was near.
His hands held the electric lighter turning it about in his fingers. "So, where did you come from?"
"..No, it wasn't scrapped." Sherlock realized looking to the residue and rushing over. "It was strips. Shavings would've died off." He moved the dust about. "And by the amount of it, it was spiraled around the bottom, the small metal chamber was enough to reflect and blind her instantly."
Sherlock leaned back on the stool crossing his arms. "Something activated the lighter, fish wire?" He inspected the light again, the switch to ignite it was gone so… how? Sherlock decided to start taking it apart with care and found a chip inside, ones found in computers or phones.
He turned it with a hold of a pair of tweezers, staring at it trying to get the-
"Oh...That's how you did it." His lips tugged upwards into a grin. "Modified to work from a distance; a mobile phone."
Night had struck finally, sadly the windows were still not fixed despite it almost a week since the explosion and yet they have not been fixed. The wooden boards could only keep the cold out for so long. John had to remember to ask Mrs. Hudson about that who apologized every time she saw them sit in the room with their coats wrapped around themselves.
Currently the boys were to their own things; John typing up for his blog slowly compared to his flat mate's speed, and Sherlock was-
"No, no no! Of course he's not the boy's father!" Sherlock gestured to telly now lowered and closer for his 'entertainment'. "Look at the turn ups on his jeans!" He sighed folding his arms around himself again.
Sherlock was of course watching a trashy like tabloid talk show. The damned pink phone sat on the armchair beside, no contact with the bomber since the painting was proven a fake. There was also nothing from Helena after that, despite John told where she was, Sherlock knew she wasn't there and Mrs. Hudson hadn't seen her. Mycroft was the last thought, but no text from him was making his inwards knot. Though he kept John in the dark, him still thinking she was with her street community.
John gave a glance over his shoulder seeing the screen, then looked back giving his head a short shake. "Knew it was dangerous."
"Hmm?"
"Getting you into crap telly." John mentioned returning to his blog.
"Hmm." Sherlock seemed a bit too… glued to the telly. It was a rare sight to see, John wished Helena could see this. "Not a patch on Connie Prince."
"Have you given Mycroft the memory stick yet?" John asked looking over to him.
"Yep." Almost making sure it was done, John turned back to his blog. Ah, the 'responsible' friend. "He was over the moon. Threatened me with knighthood- again." He huffed.
"You know, I'm still waiting." Said John.
Sherlock turned his head a bit. "Hmm?"
"For you to admit that a little knowledge of the solar system and you'd have cleared up the fake painting a lot quicker."
He rolled his eyes at John's words the second 'solar system' came into play, Sherlock titled his head around at him. "Didn't do you any good, did it?"
"No," John leaned back to him and countered, "but I'm not the world's only consulting detective."
Sherlock grinned widely at that. "True."
John looked at the time on his laptop, closing it. "I won't be in for tea. I'll be at Sarah's." He stood from the chair passing through the room. "There's still some of that risotto left in the fridge."
"Hm!" Sherlock responded glued to the tv once again.
"Uh, milk." John paused at the door looking back to his flat mate. "We need milk-"
"I'll get some." Sherlock offered quickly
John blinked, almost in disbelief, did he just offer to do shopping? Sherlock Holmes never offered to do things like that! "Really!?"
"Really."
The doctor decided to make sure, "And some beans, then?"
"Hmm." Sherlock's eyes still kept on the tv, but added in. "Helena will be stopping by, I'll give her your hello."
John hesitated, but nodded at that, maybe she can go with him… and hopefully get him to remember what exactly to get this time. He takes his leave down the stairs, leaving Sherlock to gaze at the tv. Once the door shut, he glances to the entry, waiting to confirm of John's leave before reaching for his laptop sitting between the table and his chair. First on the screen is the message box on his website, he types instantly, 'Found. The Bruce-Parington Plans. Please collect.' Before sending the message, he thinks, then adds in. 'The Pool. Midnight.' then sent it.
Closing the lid, he looked back to the tv thinking on preparing his encounter.
Midnight, the water of the clean clear pool rippled about. The warm room keeping it perfect for swimmers, Sherlock slowly and calmly entered the room, coat and scarf no longer on his body thanks to the heating. Hands clasped behind his back feeling the gun he kept tucked in the back of his belt. It was empty, but soon someone would arrive to Sherlock, with that offer how could they not?
Curiously he searched about, looking above and around him to find the true 'bomber' culprit. But with his position seeing the higher stands proved worthless. He came prepared after all. With a swift turn, he held the USB flash drive up for the bomber to see.
"Brought you a little getting-to-know-you present." He announced, though no response was given he continued, looking about. "Oh, that's what it's all been for, hasn't it? All your little puzzles, making me dance- all to distract me from this." Sherlock slowly spun in circles waiting for anything.
A door is then opened, Sherlock looks quickly over his shoulder, his heart drops upon the sight.. Slowly stepping out, two figures; John watson wearing a heavy winter coat and Helena hooked gently on his arm like an escort facing him with a strong stance.
"Evening." John greets calmly, Sherlock is too stunned to move. "This is a turn up, isn't it, Sherlock?" Helena though she was still blind, he was glad to be spared of her eyes piercing his own right now.
"John. Helena. What the hell…?"
"Bet you never saw this coming."
Sherlock finally moves taking a few steps forward, shocked by this outcome. It couldn't be- how? How!? No, this wasn't right, how could it be John and Helena. Something was amiss.
"What…" Then, John's expression changed to near match Sherlock's as he removed his hands from his pockets and opened the jacket revealing the wires, blinking lights, and bulky bomb strapped to his chest. "Would you like me…" A red light hovered over John's chest, and it stayed there, another was over Helena's head. "to make him say… next?"
Helena's own hand moved, something clinked- then he spotted it. Handcuffs; Helena was handcuffed to John. Now the real fear in their eyes set in, Sherlock was half relieved but still felt the knot in his gut that they were in danger.
Sherlock spun around to find the source of the sniper but was unable to. "Gottle o' geer…" John spoke, an ear piece with the bomber ordering his words to Sherlock.
Helena hadn't spoke, either too petrified or was ordered to stay that way. There was no earpiece to her, being blinded and stuck to her friend now a bomb scared her enough.
"Gottle o' geer, gottle o' geer-"
"Stop it." Sherlock demands hearing John almost force the last phrase out.
"Nice touch, this; the pool where little Carl died. I stopped him." Sherlock now focused on his two friends, only a few feet away. John grimaces as what he hears, but must repeat. "I can stop John Watson and Hawkeye too." John glances at the laser on his chest, then to Helena who has the laser dancing over her eyes unknown to her. "Stop his heart. Stop that precious brain of hers."
"Who are you?" Sherlock calls out turning one last time to get a glimpse of anyone in the area.
The echo of a door opening at the far end of the pool behind John and Helena takes Sherlock's attention. "I gave you my number." The man of a soft Irish accent spoke innocently. "I thought you might call."
Now revealing himself, the man dressed just as clean cut as Sherlock strolls out from behind the pillars, hands casually in his pockets as he watches the trio, but eyes more on Sherlock. The man turns out to be indeed, Jim; Molly's boyfriend.
"Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket," Sherlock at that mention reaches back taking a firm grip of his weapon. "or are you just pleased to see me?"
Sherlock raises the pistol pointing it right at Jim. "Both." He answers.
He pauses facing Sherlock. "Jim Moriarty." He greeted. "Hi."
Sherlock analyzes him- Jim of course notices this as he slowly continues his walk. "Jim? Jim from the hospital?" He reminds him. "Oh. Did I really make such a fleeting impression? But then, I suppose, that was rather the point."
Moriarty watches them not at all shaken by the gun aimed at him. He didn't care. Sherlock tilted his head to John as the laser danced about his upper chest. Helena's was near a teasing resort, it make John hold the gun in a tight grip.
"Don't be silly. Someone else is holding the rifles. I don't like getting my hands dirty." Jim stops at the corner of the pool. "I've given you a glimpse, Sherlock, just a teensy glimpse of what I got going on out there in the big bad world. I'm a specialist, you see-" He then gave a nod to Sherlock with a near impressive short smirk. "like you!"
" "Dear Jim." " Sherlock mutters, Helena turns her head up at his words. " "Please will you fix it for me to get rid of my lover's nasty sister?" "
Jim smiled Sherlock's words- just proud of himself of what Sherlock spoke of. 'Jim'll fix it'
" "Dear Jim. Please will you fix it for me to disappear to South America?" "Dear Jim." " Sherlock paused glancing to Helena who was trying her best to control her breathing as her arms shook at her side. He looked back seeing Jim raise his brows at him waiting to finish. " "...Please will you fix it to get my friend back?" "
"Just so." Jim confirms stopping once again.
"Consulting criminal. Brilliant." Sherlock adds softly.
"Isn't it?" Jim smiles proudly. "No one ever gets to me. And no one ever will."
The sound of the gun giving a cock made Helena tense up, she couldn't tell if it was Sherlock's or another gun. John took a tight grip of her hand to assured he was there with her, all was fine. At least that was best he could give her.
"I did."
"You've come the closest. Now you're in my way." He teased with a serious face.
"Thank you."
"Didn't mean it as a compliment."
"Yes you did."
Jim shrugged caving in. "Yeah, okay, I did." He continuing his saunter to them. "But the flirtings over Sherlock," he gave a high sing-song pitch teasing with a, "Daddy's had enough now!"
Helena took a step closer to John giving a tight grip hold back on his hand. Helena would've smart mouthed him back, if only she wasn't in this situation currently she would. The thought of looking like this in front of Sherlock and felt at fault for this- her mind screamed at her 'you're weak'.
"I've shown you what I can do. I cut loose all those people, all those little problems, even thirty million quid just to get you to come out and play." John feels the strain of himself and Helena at this point, Sherlock looks between the two and Jim to try and keep his attention on him. "Take this as a friendly warning, my dear. Back off."
A sudden smile creeps up on his features, "Although I have loved this- this little game of ours." He put on that fake London accent. "Playing Jim from I.T." Then returned to his Irish accent. "Playing gay. Did you like the little touch with the underwear?"
"People have died." Sherlock interjected.
"That's what people DO!" He screamed making Helena jump, she lowered her face not able to let Sherlock see her fear anymore.
Though Sherlock was unfazed, he replied. "I will stop you."
"No you won't." Jim denied.
Sherlock finally asks the two, "You all right?"
The two don't answer refusing to face look to their friend. Helena bites her lip, desperately wanting to just say Sherlock's name, but refrained from making any noise. Jim walked up behind them telling them reassuringly, "You can talk, Johnny-boy. Go ahead, Hawk." He told emphasizing the 'k'.
John looked up and gave a single nod indicating he was alright. Helena didn't say anything, getting Jim to give a childish frown. "Ah, nothing from the love bird?"
Helena grew both angry and sick at his teasing. "..Fine." She choked out with a shaky voice.
Sherlock took his one hand off the butt of the gun and held the memory stick out to Jim. "Take it."
Moriarty looked over, "Huh? Oh!" He passed the two and reached out for the stick. "That! The missile plans." He grinned taking it and giving a gentle kiss to it, he looks down at it, then to Sherlock singing, "Boring!"
Behind Jim, John looked to have mumbled something, Helena looked up, her breathing was a bit more strained, like she was trying to control herself. "I could've gotten them anywhere."
The second Jim tosses the USB stick to the pool, John launched himself at Jim holding him in a tight choke hold. Helena was attached but felt Jim's solid waste and clung around it, her arm around the side to hold tight onto John's coat. She was angry and wanted to down right headbutt him right now if she knew where his face was. Sherlock stepped back not expecting the two to do that as John yelled, "Sherlock, run!" but kept his gun up and didn't take a step to do as John ordered.
Jim only laughed at this, "Good!" He praised. "Very good!" Sherlock looks around, finding the two lasers now gone off the two, one returned to Helena's head much to his dismay. The other was having trouble to get onto to John and avoid Moriarty.
"If your sniper pulls that trigger, Mr. Moriarty, then we will both go up." John hisses at him.
Jim looks at Sherlock still calm as a ever. "Aren't they sweet? I can see why you like having them around. But then people do get so sentimental about their pets." He smirked down at Helena now pressed against his chest. "I wouldn't mind having this one has my own little house bird."
John pulls him even closer his back now right against the bomb, not liking to hear that from him about Helena let alone himself. Jim scowls at him, his poor suit was going to be ruined. "They're so touchingly loyal. But, oops!" He grins at John then to Sherlock. "You've rather shown your hand there, Doctor Watson, Miss Hawk."
A third red laser was now shining on Sherlock's forehead, John was horrified by this turn of event. Just by the expression John gave, the detective softly shook his head. "Gotcha!" Jim teased as he prayed Helena off him, John gently tugged her back with the handcuffs. She felt his hand raised up she did the same, something went off so she followed with John and stood back with him, head down once again submitting defeat.
Jim straightened his suit and gestured it to Sherlock, "Westwood!" Sherlock kept the pistol at him, the laser now correctly back on Helena's forehead and John's chest. He folded his hands in front of him, returning to business.
"D'you know what happens if you don't leave me alone, Sherlock, to you?"
Sherlock answered, "Oh, let me guess; I get killed."
"Kill you?" Jim gave a near cringe at that. "N-no, don't be obvious- I mean, I am gonna kill you anyway some day. I don't wanna rush it, though. I'm saving it up for something special. No-no-no-no-no. If you don't stop prying," Jim looking him up and down. "I'll burn you."
Helena's head rose up at those words. "I'll burn the heart," He hissed, "out of you." She shuddered with anger at that, John held her hand once more.
"I've been reliably informed that I don't have one." Sherlock said.
"But we both know that's not quite true." Jim smirked glancing over to the two then to Sherlock, he shrugged. "Well, I'd better be off." His eyes shoot about finding the exit to his right where John emerged from. "Well, so nice to have had a proper chat."
Sherlock took a sharp breath of air, "What if I was to shoot you now-" He rose the pistol higher at Jim's head. "right now?"
"Then you can cherish the look of surprise on my face." Jim opened his eyes and mouth wide imitating a shocked expression before grinning at Sherlock. "'Cause I'd be surprised, Sherlock. Really I would." He squinted his face a bit. "And just a teensy bit disappointed. And of course you wouldn't be able to cherish it for long."
The two had a short stare down before Jim stepped back ready to take his leave. "Ciao, Sherlock Holmes." He turns and makes his steady leave through the door.
Sherlock took a few steps closer. "Catch.. You... Later."
All is heard from the corridor is, "No you won't!" Sung from Jim as the door closes.
No one moved, the lasers now gone, Sherlock looked to his friends and instantly dropped the gun and got down on one knee to get the handcuff off them to remove the bomb. "All right?" he asks, when they don't answer, John only breathing heavily, he asks more urgently. "Are you all right!?"
"Yeah-Yeah, I'm fine." John stuttered out.
Sherlock took Helena's arm as she let a sighed out, her fist had been clenching hard and her palm was bleeding for a while, not much thankfully. "Helena." He and who only turned her head, Sherlock spotted the key to the cuffs tucked into the upper wrappings around her head. He stood holding a hand to her chin to keep her head still and gently removed the key.
"I'm fine.." She replied.
Much to Sherlock's relief to hear her voice, he knelt back down freeing the two from the cuffs and chucking the damned things behind him. He instantly went to work with the bomb jacket unzipping it from John's chest, as Helena rubbed her wrist and stood by keeping her ears out. Her knees shook threatening to buckle, but unknown how close she was to the pool she kept her legs standing.
Sherlock managed to get the vest opened, he jumped up and got behind John nearly ripping the whole jacket and bomb vest off him making John almost fall over. Sherlock's breathing sounded just as heavy now feeling the threat of John and Helena had as he managed to roughly stripped the jacket and vest off John. "Sh-Sherlock!"
With a near stumble, Sherlock chucked the deadly thing letting it slide across the floor at a long distance for them to feel at least remotely safe. Sherlock watches as he removed the earpiece, "Jesus.." He gives softly trying to control his breath, body now reacting to the danger he was just in. Sherlock shoots to the door bending to pick the gun up and rushes out to where Moriarty as just left. John lets a shakes, "Oh, Christ." As his knees buckle, but he leans against the changing cubicle before going to the ground trying to control his heart and breathing.
"J-John..?" Helena reached out hearing his labored breathing, taking small steps toward him.
"Here, h-here…" he called holding a hand out for her, she found it and let herself fall to her knees as John held her, she should feel his heart ready to burst from his chest.
"I'm fine, I'm all right." Helena assured patting her hands on her shoulders, sitting up. She was more concerned about him then herself. "John, even breathes."
He let out a weak breathless chuckle, "Right, right." He in turn rubbed up her arms feeling her hands shake gripping his shirt unintentionally. She was holding out strong but he knew she was downright terrified of what just happened.
The door slammed proving John right as Helena jumped at it, but twas only Sherlock returning gun still in his hand. Helena moved beside John to stand, despite her feet feeling like pins and needles. She leaned against the cubicle for support like John was crouching against it. Sherlock paced back and forth, his mind running faster and harder than it ever did before. Being a little dangerous as he was scratching the nuzzled end of the loaded gun against his head as he paced.
"Are you okay?" John asked still catching his breath.
"Me? Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine. Fine." He answered all too quickly.
Helena heard him pacing and stepped forward in hopes of catching his arm to stop him. "Sherl-" her footing had made her collapse and just her luck fall into Sherlock who held her tightly by her arms.
Sherlock was careful this time to keep the gun away from her holding her with his free hand, he felt her own hands tremblings against his arms and chest. "You're shaking." he indicated.
"I-I'm fine.." She denied in a stutter, glad to got him to stop. But he kept a hold on her as she felt she couldn't stand on her own.
"Are you hurt?" Sherlock asked, his eyes scanning her up and down to find any injuries on her.
"No, I didn't get hurt… Just a bit spooked is all." She let her fingers feel the material of his suit, being near him like this made her feel more relaxed.
Sherlock kept an arm on her to keep her steady. He felt better himself with her near, almost feeling she would disappear again like before. Sherlock looked to John, sort of trying to form these words to them. "That, er… thing you both, er, that you both did-that, um…" Helena patting his shoulder as he cleared his throat, he kept motioned with the gun as his hand was on Helena's back. "...You offered to do. That was, um…. good."
John just stared out blankly not looking up to the two. "I'm glad no one saw that-even Helena."
She frowned in confusion, her hand at her chest to feel her heart still beating but her hands were starting to calm down. Sherlock had lowered the gun to his side, but it still jittered against his thigh, he rose it to his chin but seeing Helena close he dropped it again. "Hmm?"
"You, ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool. People might talk."
Helena finally lets a small laugh out as Sherlock just shrugged. "That's what you're worried about?"
"People do little else." Sherlock sighs smirking down at John who snorts a laugh.
John moves to get up, but finds a red dot on his chest, his heart sinks one more time. "Oh…"
Sherlock notices just as the door opened with clapping. "Sorry boys!" Moriarty's voice returned. "I'm sooooo changeable!" Helena's breathing hitched as Sherlock stepped up three dots on himself, two on John and three on Helena. She kept a tight grip on his arm hearing Moriarty behind them.
Jim laughed, "It is a weakness with me but, to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness." Sherlock turned his head looking down to John who matched the gaze. "You can't be allowed to continue. You just can't. I would try to convince you but…" Jim laughs making that once again sing song voice of his, "everything I have to say has already crossed your mind!"
Sherlock turned away looking down to Helena who was having a death grip on him- she wasn't to be involved like this now… She was going to die. He had to stop Moriarty and there was only one way to do it. He leaned down to Helena, "Run." He whispered but only earned a confused glance up to him. Sherlock looked down at John who gave a curt nod deeming the decision right.
"Probably my answer as crossed yours." Sherlock turned leading Helena to safety behind him- or as safe he can have her be.
Aiming the gun at Moriarty, he then heard Helena whisper to him, "I won't leave you." Hugging his free arm and hiding her face into it.
Jim just smiles at him knowing he wouldn't make the shot. Sherlock took a deep breath slowly lowering the aim down the the bomb between them and Moriarty. He noticed and tilted his head at Sherlock's decision, then grinned at him as Sherlock narrowed him down.
WOO my heart STILL drops when that episode ends! Yeah, Helena wasn't involved much. Do you honestly blame her though? Don't worry, the story continues. This goes into series one and two, but then a new story for series three. Might not depending how many chapters this has. Remember to review and show the love!