Chapter III – Your Promises Look like Lies
A/N: Reminder, this is in the romance genre~ I know it might not look like it, but this is a romance between Holmes and Watson~ =w= just in case you've forgotten or didn't catch that.
Watson walked through the smoke of the remaining flames of the explosion. His suit was tattered and singed. Holmes lay face down in rubble, his arms raised to cover his face and his body curled to the side. A rough hand pulled him up and shook the dust from his body. He gasped and forced his eyes open. There was no face in front of him, just flames taking what he grasped away. Those bright lights of red and gold that curled with the black soot like a dragon curled around his heart and stole it away. Holmes stiffened and his muscles tensed. Opening his mouth to shout the name, he heard his voice. "Holmes, Holmes, Holmes" He shook his head and looked up. Watson's bright blue eyes were the light of his vision. He tightened his grip on Watson's sleeve and sighed, letting his body relax and his head fall against Watson's chest. Hardly, he managed to whisper, "Always good to see you, Watson."
"And how good to see you." Holmes jerked awake and looked around his study. Watson was standing in the door way, his face was quite stern but had a small, glowing aura around it as if he were secretly happy. "Were you dreaming of me?" He asked, dropping his hat and coat to the chair he always sat in. Holmes shook himself to his feet and looked around. He had fallen asleep in the midst of a pile of books. The ink pen he had been using was spilt across some papers. Watson picked up the fountain and pen and placed it upright on a shelf, then shook the ink from his fingers. Hardly turning, Holmes reached behind him and grabbed a hold of a rag, then tossed it to Watson. Holmes was still baffled from sleep and shaken form his dream.
"No, of course I wasn't. Why would you think I was dreaming of you?" His eyes skittered across the room, finally landing on Watson's hands as he clutched the rag.
"You greeted me in your sleep, Holmes." Holmes shook his head and scoffed,
"I was not sleeping! I was merely…"
"Resting your eyes?" Watson finished, smirking. He crossed the room to Holmes and spared him a glance. Holmes narrowed his eyes, it's like he's teasing! Watson stood next to the tea, "Your tea is cold."
"I-I know that!" Holmes retorted. The moon has raised and I haven't even noticed. What has gone wrong in my mind? And I didn't even hear Watson enter, nor Mrs. Hudson. Am I…losing my touch? Holmes looked up at Watson who stood stiff. All amusement had left his face and absolute concern and suspicion covered it.
"Holmes…you don't look well." He was right, Holmes's complexion had paled and his eyes seemed to sag more than the usual slight dark spot. Although Holmes's exhaustion wasn't much compared to his work, he hadn't been sleeping well in a long time, ever since Watson started courting Mary, in fact.
"I'm fine." Holmes said, shaking his head. "More to the case, what are you doing here?" Watson raised an eyebrow.
"I'm here to see you. I thought you were dead, now that you're not I can say I'm…"
"You're so incredibly ecstatic that I'm alive that you'll come here and shower me with your compliments and happiness only to skip off and marry that woman? Well let me reassure you I don't need to hear it, Watson." Holmes looked at Holmes with inquiry, as if to waiting for him to challenge what he had said. But by the look on Watson's face, he got it spot on. Fantastic, he still had it. Watson squirmed a bit, before taking a few steps closer to Holmes,
"You're kicking me out?" The voice echoed in his head again, Holmes…
"…perhaps…" Watson's face fell. He sighed through his nose and tapped his finger on the top of his walking stick and his lips drew to a fine line. He only does that when he's nervous…Holmes noted.
"In that case, I'd hate to intrude any further. You were obviously busy over there sleeping!" He's voice is louder and harsh, he must be feeling some sort of inner, pent up frustration.
"Yes! In fact I was very busy! I have many cases to solve." Watson paced back over to the tea as Holmes held his hands behind his back.
"Oh you mean like the one you solved on the street just this morning? Yeah, Lestrade caught me on my way down and bloody well interrogated me about your actions. I was delayed half an hour because you were as sloppy as to leave your case apart in pieces! Did you even realize that that man was friends with the police who arrested him? He's out now and it's all thanks to your own bloody so called deduction!" Holmes couldn't even look at Watson, any part of Watson. He felt like a kid being scolded, and he felt weak for his mistakes. "What happened, Sherlock?" Holmes tensed and turned on Watson.
"What happened? Absolutely nothing Watson, absolutely nothing is wrong with my life, my world, or my head!" He enunciated as he walked until they were nearly nose to nose again so he didn't have to raise his voice. He never raised his voice, and Watson knew this. "I am not some mental case you need to put away. I am an inspector, a detective, whatever you may and you were my partner. That is until you decided to frolic amongst the land of romance and flowers and unicorns and whatever the hell you call it…"
"Marriage" Watson corrected, almost baring his teeth towards Holmes.
"…yes that." Holmes continued. "That is, as I've told you, I no longer require your services as you kick up your heels along with your smart fiancée~" He did a little mock hop to put more weight on the word as he let it roll off his tongue. "You two enjoy yourself in your barbaric way of life." The words echoed across the room as Holmes whispered in Watson's face. The tension hung in the air like spider webs with both of them trapped in the very middle of it.
Watson broke the atmosphere as he drew his fist across Holmes's face. A slight crunch was heard as the force of his knuckles collided with Holmes's cheekbone. Holmes looked up at his friend, blood trickled from his mouth and a dark bruise was forming beneath his eye. The two men looked at each other, shooting daggers for a moment before they uniformly began to laugh. Holmes let his hands grasp Watson's collar as he leapt at him, knocking both of them to the floor. The detective and doctor shook at each other, throwing punches and kicks whenever there was an open spot. The two quarrelled and wrestled, trying to get at each other. Watson's walking stick had fallen to the floor when Holmes first hit him down.
"I don't want to put up with your views on marriage! You aren't the one whose getting married you bastard!" Watson shouted as he turned Holmes to the floor.
"You're right! I'm just going to die alone after you leave me." Holmes hissed up to Watson. Watson swallowed as he looked down at the man below him. Holmes sternly held his gaze. He could tell the slight guilt was wearing at his heart.
"This isn't all about you, you selfish bastard." Watson said sternly. They had stopped aiming at each other now, even though they were both holding each other's throats and in…compromising positions. Holmes's voice fell to a pitch hardly above his own breathing.
"This isn't all about me…John." Watson's breathing hitched briefly as Holmes hardly spoke his first name.
"Then…let's be done with it." Watson stood up and pulled Holmes with him. Holmes nodded to Watson then fixed his own sleeves, readjusting the loosely worn shirt over his body. Watson turned and went to pick up his walking stick. Holmes turned and grabbed it for him, handing it to his friend. Watson looked at Holmes quizzically before accepting it. Holmes offered a smile, although both knew that it was false. Watson smiled briefly back before tugging at the end of his sleeves to straighten the wrinkles out. Holmes took the liberty of flattening Watson's sleeves as well, and then ran his hands across the broad shoulders and down Watson's chest to flatten the waistcoat. Both men held each other's eyes as Holmes tugged at the pocket chain. He clicked the small silver mechanism open and ran his thumb over the glass face. A slight glance down told him it was twenty two hundred. "You should get going, Watson." Watson's bright eyes never left Holmes's as he said.
"Yes, you're right. Mary will worry." Although the emotional reaction to her name was suppressed to the best of Holmes's ability, there was a slight scrunch at the bridge of his nose as he nodded. Even so, the slim glare in his eye shone, and a part of him secretly wanted Watson to pick up on it.
Watson put his hands over Holmes's and slid the watch from his fingers. Holmes fidgeted with a bit of the inside of his cheek between his teeth as the watch was slid from him, and broad hands fondled his own softly. He let his eyes flutter closed for a moment as the watch was turned from his fingers, one by one, to Watson's ever so delicately. His breath was shallow, he was tired and his neck began to lose its stiffness. Watson put a hand to Holmes's cheek, his voice broke through the foggy barrier "Honestly, you need to sleep more than just a few hours at a time." Watson looked fondly at Holmes, and then withdrew his hand.
"Are you kidding me Watson? I've hardly slept an hour per night this week~" Holmes jerked back into life as Watson moved and said,
"That explains a lot. Oh, and I'd like my clothing back, Holmes." Swaying some on his feet, Holmes smirked and told Watson, as he leaned down to pick up his hat and coat from the chair,
"You first" Watson pulled on the coat and hat, looking at Holmes for a moment then saying.
"You know what, never mind. I'll get them from you later." He took Holmes's arm and pulled him to the couch. "You're not getting anywhere without rest. Now sit down and sleep, Holmes." He smiled for a moment as Sherlock's eyes began to droop. Holmes slid gently into the horrors, miracles and absolutely, beautifully, deliciously complicated terrors that roamed his genius mind, keeping a firm grip on Watson's sleeve.