Cracked Silk
Chapter 26
Warning: Major angst, Cheating, and physical violence - please read with caution –
Disclaimer: I own nothing, just a over eager imagination
How on earth was he supposed to know that they'd be taken away from him the very next day?
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Sherlock woke up a few hours later with the horrible feeling something was wrong. He rubbed at his eyes at sat up, looking over at John's sleeping form to try and calm his down.
John wasn't there, though.
"John?" Sherlock asked. "Are you in the bathroom?" His question didn't get a response and Sherlock became more alert. "John, where are you?"
He reached out and felt the empty space in the bed next to him. "John," Sherlock shouted. "John?"
Sherlock felt his heart start to race and he threw the covers off. "John?" Sherlock yelled. "John!"
His eyes scanned the whole room but he couldn't find his mate. Sherlock ran to the other side of the bed and found John on the floor, broken. He had blood coating his torso and soaking into the carpet. John's hands were blue and his face was too pale. His eyes were closed but Sherlock knew if he opened them, he'd be staring at two lifeless blue orbs.
"No, no, nonono, John, no, you can't be dead, please, we just-," Sherlock scooped John up and propped him against his chest. John was like a ragdoll, dead and heavy. Sherlock buried his face in John's bond hair and sobbed.
Sherlock bolted up in bed, panting. He felt tears tracks on his face and tried to calm his breathing before he woke John up. He sat up and rested against the headboard.
"S'lock?" John's sleepy voice murmured.
Sherlock looked down at his mate. John was struggling to sit up as well but Sherlock put a hand on his shoulder. "Go back to sleep."
John frowned. "You've been crying."
"Bad dream," Sherlock explained. "Don't worry, John, just go back to sleep. You need it."
John ignored him and sat up beside his mate. "I've been sleeping for days. You need it more than I do and by the looks of it," John thumbed away a tear on Sherlock's face, "you're
not getting any."
Sherlock reached out and put his hand on John's wrist. He felt for the pulse point and let the steady, living heartbeat.
"I'm alive," John murmured. "I'm alive, and you are too. We're both here, and safe."
"You know me too well," Sherlock replied. He chuckled. "Way too well."
John rolled over and put his head on Sherlock lap. "S'lock, you worry too much." He put his hand inside Sherlock's. "Wanna tell me?"
"The dream?"
John nodded. "It might help to talk about it."
Sherlock really didn't want to tell John. How do you tell someone, much less someone you love, that you dreamed them lying on the floor dead? "I… we were here. In this room. And I couldn't find you. So I got up, and I looked around and you were on the floor by the side of your bed but when I looked at you…" Sherlock felt his throat close up. "You wouldn't wake up."
"You dreamed I was dead?" John clarified. "And that's why you screamed my name, isn't it? When you found my body."
"Don't be mad," Sherlock begged. "It was only a dream."
"Aw, S'lock, I'm not mad." John sat back up and slid into Sherlock's lap. "I only want to make you feel better despite my lack of trust for you at this moment."
Sherlock put his chin on top of John's head and let John's familiar scent of cinnamon and sunshine fill his nostrils. "Remember when you first came here?"
"You mean when I was heartbroken and out of my mind with utter dejection? Yeah, that's a bit hard to forget," John replied bitterly, tensing when he felt Sherlock's breath hitch.
"Sorry, not good?" Sherlock mumbled, rubbing his scent on John's soft haired head.
"Just a bit, yeah."
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Moriarty grinned as he watched John and Sherlock cuddle on the small television screen in front of him.
"Oh Freddo, I have a job for you!" He chimed, clapping his hands together as his mind bloomed with ideas on how to shatter this beautiful mated pair in front of him. He quickly told Fred his plan and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. As he heard the decrescendo of Fred's footsteps, he smirked wickedly and said to himself,
"This is be sooo much fun!"
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John's sleep, unlike Sherlock, wasn't plagued with nightmares. He slept dreamlessly and happily. He woke up to Sherlock pressing a trail of kisses down his neck and he swatted at his alpha. "If you do that, we might end up doing something we'll regret."
"Hm, I won't regret it," Sherlock hummed. "Might be worth it." He sucked on John's pulse point and John began to get hard under his sweatpants.
"Sherlock, we have to—fuck, S'lock—stop." John demanded, pushing his mate away. "I'm still trying to forgive you; what on earth made you think that I was ready to trust you enough to put your dick inside me? Because if you haven't noticed, I'm a bit full right now!" John exclaimed, rubbing his swollen belly.
Sherlock growled possessively and wrapped both hands around John's, hugging their unborn pup.
"It joys me tremendously to know that you are siring my pup. It makes you mine, truly mine from the inside out."
John giggled and swatted at his alpha, "You're so weird sometimes, I love how protective and possessive you get over me being impregnated by your semen. It's kinda cute, actually," he joked.
Sherlock deadpanned and stared blankly at his blond mate and said, "I am not cute."
John threw his head back and laughed full heartedly, so loud that Greg had come up to make sure Sherlock wasn't tickling him! Though Sherlock didn't understand what was so funny to John, he couldn't help the small smile that crept on his face. He felt so important to have made John Watson smile again, he just hoped he would never make him frown.
Though, if he knew what event was going to take place later on the same day, he would have laughed from the irony.
Authors Note: A new chapter is always exciting, yes? I stayed away from the usual angst (Apart from the last sentence) and hope that everything in your life is going great since mine isn't. Reviews are very heartwarming, so thank you. Thank you for reading (And kudos to those who are reading this very sentence right now! ;D)