Thanks, Sherlockian Dreams for giving me the little shove to extend my original idea.
{Paired with #24 and #26.}
#25 | Peril
"Don't move!" the officer, Ian Mitchell, ordered.
"Now, hold on just a minute—" a voice floated from the gloom, the gloom that the officer currently could barely see into. All he saw were two dark figures.
Mitchell saw at least one of the shadowy figures move followed by the sound of slow, labored-sounding footsteps coming toward him and gripped his gun tighter in his hand.
"Don't move!" he shouted again. The silhouette took another step forward anyway but the officer cocked his gun then and said, "I will shoot if you take another step."
"If you're going to shoot me, then shoot me, but I have someone who needs serious medical attention, immediately." the figure responded not sounding perturbed at all that he might be shot at any moment. Besides, it wasn't like he hadn't been shot before.
Mitchell peered into the shadows with narrowed eyes, trying to get a better look at the two figures. Now that he thought about it... that voice sounded so familiar... like he'd heard that voice floating around Scotland Yard before.
Slowly, cautiously Mitchell lowed his gun and took a few steps forward.
"...John?" he asked. "John Watson?"
There was a very audible sigh of relief from John before he stumbled forward into the light with Sherlock in tow, one of his arms around John's shoulders, John's arm around Sherlock's waist, trying to keep the detective upright. With their height difference and all, it was difficult to keep Sherlock standing.
And if Mitchell hadn't known any better he'd have thought Sherlock was dead.
Thank you for everything,
TheBrightestNight