Prompt: "Don't Shoot!"

From: Book girl fan

A/N: Well, I finally finished the challenge! Thank you all so much for reading, and for your lovely reviews on 'Earth Stood as Hard as Iron'!

This prompt follows on from the 26th. Again, this might not be accurate, as I am relying on my own research instead of first hand experience. Apologies for lack of correct details.

….

As promised, Holmes and I were back at the… 'Fallout' thing. Marching into battle at various points throughout this strange process reminded me of being in Afghanistan, serving Her Majesty's armies.

As such, readers would argue that I had an advantage over Holmes. But he had a far superior intellect that I constantly bowed to- and he was an excellent problem solver, as you good readers can observe for yourselves.

As a result, we both worked quite well together defeating the enemies. To be honest, I feel that Holmes and I would work together on everything during our lives.

If I don't murder him for waking me up at 3 o'clock in the morning with his wretched violin, that is.

Holmes and I were doing rather well; our approaches to the game ensured us a great deal of progress with minimal cursing- with only a minor word or two from Holmes following a small mishap on the game.

Unfortunately, we ran into trouble when we reached Necropolis- a city filled with undead humans rampaging the streets, trying to undo our efforts.

"We're outnumbered, Holmes!" I exclaimed.

"Damn it!" He snapped in reply. "DO something, Watson!"

I attempted to shoot some of the undead people, only to find myself under attack by these mutated assailants. "Holmes, I'm done for!" I said.

"Not on my watch!" Holmes cried, and attempted to help me- only his character died as soon as he ran forward two steps.

"Damn it." He muttered. "You're on your own, Watson. But on the upside, my death was a perfect demonstration of"-

"Sheer stupidity?" I hazarded.

"No, Watson," he glared at me, to which I paid no attention. "It demonstrates Mycroft's attitude to getting out of his chair."

I began snickering at Holmes' insult towards his brother- only to find out with alarm that I was even closer to death than before, with me only having one 'bar' of life left before I too perished.

But before I could resign myself to my fate, I heard gunshots that were not my own. Puzzled, I looked round the screen to find a non-mutated character standing in the background, holding a large gun.

"Don't shoot!" I exclaimed in alarm, before realizing the futility of such an action. Indeed, I also realized this after Holmes cuffed my head for my stupid remark- though not as hard as I know he can do so- and I held my breath.

The character seemingly paused- and then opened fire.

….

I was surprised, however, when the enemy was attacked instead of me! I wondered who could have come to our rescue so unexpectedly.

Or rather, my rescue, seeing as Holmes somehow got himself killed within two seconds.

I did nothing of the kind- you did nothing to help me, even though I was close to death. :(

For God's sake, Holmes! Will he ever stop messing with my narrative!

Never, Watson. I always mess with things. I am 'Holmes the meddler, Holmes the busybody, Holmes the Scotland Yard Jack in office', remember? :D

Well, can't argue with a reference. I'm sure you readers will appreciate it, even if I don't. And why does he keep using those blasted symbols? Is he speaking in some kind of code I know nothing about?

….

I was still puzzling over our rescuer when I heard someone cackling gleefully.

"Look out, Watson, the Wicked Witch of the West!" Holmes shrieked in alarm.

"Holmes, are you referencing the Wizard of Oz? It doesn't even exist yet." I said wearily.

Holmes frowned. "I'm not sure, Watson. But this thing is well beyond our time, and therefore, that shouldn't be our biggest issue." He pointed out, pointing to the 'TV'.

"Touché." I answered- just as Mrs. Hudson came in storming in our room, gleefully waving a small black contraption that was eerily similar to ours.

"Did you see that, gentlemen?" She crowed. "Tat is how you play it!"

"Mrs. Hudson?!" Holmes and I echoed in shock and surprise.

"Yep! I got you boys out of that one, didn't i?"

"You certainly did, Mrs. Hudson." I said, numbly. Holmes leaned over to me.

"Well, Watson, I did always say that Mrs. Hudson was a formidable force of her own reckoning." He whispered in my ear.

"I believe you now, Holmes," I answered back quietly. "I didn't expect her to take out a whole army of mutated zombies like that."

Not only that, but she broke into vault 12 and retrieved the water chip we were looking for- with no help from us whatsoever.

"Well, Watson, looks like I'm not the only one to have been beaten by a woman." He smirked at me.

"Oh shut up, Holmes!" I retorted. "I only got beaten by Mrs. Hudson! Irene Adler and Mary both beat you."

By his reddening cheeks and indignant splutters following that statement, I was the victor of this argument, and so, I took a moment to reflect on my triumph.