Chapter 22: For Better or Worse~
"Who says I'll do it?" Jim asked, smiling cockily, spitting out some blood.
Greg cocked a gun under his throat. "That's not gonna do it..."
He flipped the gun over,and pistol whipped him in the wound to his hip. He let out a high piercing cry that harmonized with a lower groaning wail from Sherlock.
John had stood up under him, folding his knees around his neck, to take the pressure off his wrists. "Easy...it's ok...We're gonna get you out of here...HURRY UP, THE SHOOTERS ARE CHARGED!"
"That might... you-"Greg was too angry to even curse. Mary grabbed Jim's wrist in pinscher -like fingers,and held it above the keypad.
"I can hurt you worse, did you know that?Type!"
Jim was honestly more afraid of Sherrinford Holmes than he was of the D.I. He obeyed, eagerly.
John cried when he felt Sherlock's cuffs loosen, felt him teeter and sag onto his shoulders. He eased him to the ground. Away from the heat , the convulsions lessened to being just fierce jerks, like he had a severe case of the hiccups. Around his mouth his saliva had begun to foam a little ,like a dog with rabies, but other than that he looked relatively unharmed. John drug him through the hole, leaping on him,and rolling him out onto the hard, loose-board warehouse floor, as suddenly the flames consumed the chamber they had been in, in a wave of heat so fierce,it pushed them several yards away.
John sat up, when he heard Sherlock coughing. His eyes were cloudy, like water-color paints, and he looked like he had a milk -mustache from the poisonous foam. With a hiss of disgust, John gently wiped that off with his sleeve. Sherlock 's brows twisted confused...
"You..." he sat half way up, "You came for me?!" he asked, eyes suddenly watering, as if he would break into tears again.
"'Course I did ,you idiot!"John gasped, cradling him.
Sherlock shivered. And a great many things happened at once.
The police lead Jim outside,Mycroft took Greg aside to show him where his mother's remains were to be found, to use as evidence. A cab screetched up,and Nigel and Mrs. Hudson came barreling out, and running towards the scene, apprehended by police for a moment, until Mary ran out and said, "He's my father, he's my father!" and they let him through, let him run,and take her in his arms, clinging to her with all his strength.
Mrs. Hudson called to Sally, who came aside to console the poor old woman, who had known nothing about all of this until the last few hours.
So, in the midst of the confusion, every one had forgotten about Sherlock and John. It was the doctor's job to take care of him ,after all. For better or worse, which was exactly what he meant to do.
Sherlock was fingering the dried blood on John's forehead then, shaking like a newborn foal.
"I did it -accidently- to myself...Don't worry ,I'm ok...Are you...does it...still hurt?"
Sherlock swallowed,then nodded.
"God,Sherlock..."John gasped,and drew him up, hand behind his head, holding him like somebody would a newborn.
John was shaking now too,and Sherlock tried to smile, but winced,as another wave of pain showed him just how HUMAN he was. John sighed,
"Let's get out of here..."
"I ,uhmmm,...not sure I can...move..."
"Didn't ask you to,"John muttered, picking him up,and drawing him up onto his shoulders, folding his long legs up under his arms. For a moment he stood there, with his weight against him, panting, trying to take these last days in.
"Hey, you know, it's Christmas...Wanna go see that light park with me and Mary? Later, I mean, after you've had a shower and all that rot..."
"Sounds boring..."Sherlock moaned, half- asleep against him.
"Boring sounds good now, yeah?"
Sherlock nodded,and blew a shaky breath out of his nostrils...
"Good... boring,...want to...but had a client ,maybe?, come by my flat...Gotta check that out..."
John smiled, piecing together how Nigel had gotten his number now,
"I actually already know what that's about. Let's go outside and meet him. He 's the sort of client that might like to come see the lights with us-or any excuse to spend some time with you,after-God it's been ages!"
When Sherlock's only response was a curled brow that John didn't see,but felt against the back of his neck, he proceeded to carry him outside, and felt him flinch at the light of the day,and at the knowledge that he would survive...