Okay, I know this is forever late but I had a rather large road block. It was two months of boot camp. I'm done with it now, about four months over with it now but I didn't have a lot of time after school to really write a full blown chapter. I hope you all forgive me and enjoy this chapter. There's a treat at the end. See ya.
Sherlock watched as John paced back and forth in the small room they were sharing in the prison. "John, calm down," he told him. "Things are going great."
John stopped his sharp movements, looking up at his friend. "I'm sorry; it's just, a lot has happened in the last two weeks. I mean, all my friends are dead, my father turned out to be head of a prison full of people like me, and I'm at war my bloody country."
Sherlock stood up and grabbed him by the shoulders. John tensed a bit, spreading his wings in an intimidating manner. "Calm down," he whispered, not being phased by the stance. John relaxed just a bit. "Okay. I know that you lost so many people but think of what we're doing now. We are about to go on a tour, taking out all the prisons, freeing so many more people. Listen to me when I say things will get better for you. For all of us."
John licked his lips and looked down, his wings sagging to the floor. "You're right Sherlock," he murmured. "I'm just stressed."
"We all are," Sherlock said. "Trust me; you're not the only one that needs to relax for a bit." He let go of John and sat on the desk that was in the corner of the room. "We have five prisons in the north, six towards the south. We will be taking care of all of them. We are stocked with more rifles and men then before." He paused and looked at the map that was folded up. "We have to strike before they get us."
"Then we should leave soon," John said, stepping towards Sherlock. He grabbed the map and opened it up. "This one is closer to us; I believe they will attack before any of the others. So if we leave here, leaving behind enough men to fight then we should be good. We can't lose this place as much as we think we can."
Sherlock nodded and licked his lips as he looked over the map. He tapped on an 'X'. "We should move our forces here," he said. "It's secluded enough that they won't get reinforcements in time before our attack."
John nodded. "Bloody genius," he muttered. "When should we leave though?"
Sherlock looked of the window, noticing a small spider crawling across and out a small hole in the window pane. "I'll tell everyone the plan, get them mobilized. They should be strong enough to be able to start moving. But we have to go soon." He stood up and grabbed his jacket, pulling it on. "You stay here, mark out our route. We'll need two separate ones, one for the rest of the troops and one for us. We'll be leaving after them."
John nodded. "Of course," he said.
Sherlock left the room, going to the mess hall to gather everyone together.
X
A few days after the small army of went on their long journey. Just John, Sherlock, enough men to hold down the prison and the prisoners, enough to hold their own were left behind. When it was time to leave Sherlock went on the search for John. He found the man standing outside his father's cell. Sherlock walked up behind John and peered inside. "We have to go John," he told him.
John glanced back at him and nodded. "Alright," he said. He turned and walked away.
Sherlock sighed and turned to follow him but he was stopped by the soft voice of the older Watson. "Please tell my son I'm sorry," he said, sounding weak and defeated.
Sherlock tilted his head to the side, eyes turning grey as he gave him a curious look. Why would he still seek his son's forgiveness even after all he had done? "No, I don't think I will," he said. "Have a nice day." He followed after John catching up with him quickly.
"Ready to go Sherlock?" John asked, getting the harness on so he could carry Sherlock.
Sherlock grabbed John's arm and pulled him into a hug. "John, you have a new family now," he told him. He didn't know where all these feelings were coming from but he didn't like the way John looked. He looked almost broken.
John relaxed a bit and hugged him back. "Thank you Sherlock," he sighed.
Sherlock smiled and pulled back. "Alright, let's go," he said. He grabbed his gun and a few grenades they had left, setting everything up.
The night was cold as Sherlock stepped outside. He turned to John and sighed. "We need to get a way to cover you up without impeding your flying."
"I'm fine Sherlock," John told him despite his shaking.
Sherlock nodded. "You won't be for long," he said. He stood in front of John as he handed him the straps over his shoulders. Sherlock flipped everything together and smiled.
It was a better version of the harness Sherlock had made for them before their first attack. He was rather proud of how well it kept them balanced.
"Ready?" John asked, already flapping his wings.
"When you are," Sherlock said with a grin. In a matter of seconds they were in the air, flying up.
They leveled out and Sherlock let out a laugh. "I will never get over that feeling," he told John.
John smiled, resting his hands on Sherlock's back. "I've been doing it most my life, I still get an adrenaline burst."
Sherlock smiled and looked over his shoulder. "When the war is over we'll have to just fly for fun," he said. He shut his eyes and sighed. "It would be great to have just a ride."
John hummed in response, dipping off to the left. "Maybe," he said.
Sherlock grinned and spread out his arms. He loved flying; it was one of the best feelings in the world.
X
The two stopped the trek long and horrible. Sherlock could tell that John was exhausted and needed to sleep.
They were resting that night in a small field. Sherlock had his jacket curled tightly around his shoulders but it wasn't keeping him warm. He glanced at John who looked fine, curled up under his wings.
"John," Sherlock said, shaking slightly. "Can I borrow some of your heat?"
John lifted his wing up and peeked at Sherlock. He nodded and motioned for him to come over. Sherlock crawled closer to him and lay down next to him.
John lowered his wing on to Sherlock and the man relaxed, already feeling warm. "See, I told you I was fine," John murmured.
Sherlock rolled his eyes and shifted slightly closer. "Good night," he murmured.
John smiled, his eyes sliding shut. "Night Sherlock," he slurred.
Sherlock smiled when he could hear that he was asleep. He shut his own eyes, falling asleep as well.
The next morning Sherlock woke up. The sun was just rising and it was a bit warmer. He looked down, seeing John lying on his chest, eyes slightly open. "Morning," he whispered.
John looked up at him. "Morning," he said. "Your heart is soothing."
"Is it?" Sherlock asked. "I feel like it would be annoying to listen to all those gears grinding against each other."
John shook his head slightly, saying nothing more on the matter. "We need to get going," he murmured.
Sherlock nodded and sat up as John got up. "Are you okay John?" He asked as be pulled together his gear again.
"Yeah," John said, getting the harness back on.
Sherlock nodded. "Alright," he sighed. He shook his head. He needed to focus on their main problem, not John. John was important yes but Sherlock couldn't let him run his life. He couldn't thing about him more often than not. He was letting his emotions take over. Sherlock hooked himself up to John again and they were off.
X
They flew for the rest of the day, meeting up with their men just outside the area of the prison. As Sherlock expected they were on higher security, for a good reason too. Sherlock knew they were going to take the prison by force.
They had to make sure they knew where's to strike first though so it was another night to wait. Probably for the best too, everyone was tired and worn out. They would fight better if they struck the next day.
Sherlock decided to sit down, relax as well. He was going to spend the night thinking of all the vantage points they could use. He was off from the rest of the group, where it was quiet, watching the prison, his eyes working through the pitch darkness. He heard a noise behind him and he quickly looked over his shoulder. "John," he whispered.
"Came to keep you company," John whispered. "Also, I didn't want you to get cold again like last night."
Sherlock smiled and nodded. "Thank you John," he said. "You're too kind to me."
John sat next to him, wrapping his wing the best he could around Sherlock's shoulders. He rested his head against him and shut his eyes.
Sherlock looked down at him. He let out a soft sigh and took his hand, giving it a small squeeze. "Sleep," he said. John nodded, lacing their fingers together. Sherlock smiled and moved closer to John. The man was a human, or half human half bird, heater.
John was special. Sherlock came to that conclusion. If Sherlock believed there was such a thing he would say John was an angel sent to save Sherlock. The genius was sure he wouldn't have been there if it hadn't been for John.
Sherlock rested his head against John's, shutting his eyes for a moment. He was too far gone to stop caring about the man now.
X
They were getting ready to attack, to take another strong hold as their own. Moral was high which was a good thing for them. They were going to need it. Sherlock had noticed that the prison had more guards patrolling than the last one. It was a little unnerving.
Sherlock felt a hand on his back and he turned slightly to see John coming to his side. It was odd how he had come so used to his touch. He gave him a small smile. "What's our plan," John asked, "same thing as before?"
Sherlock nodded. "Of course," he said. "We fly in right over their heads and we attack from the top as they get the bottom."
John grinned and nodded to himself. "And if they attack us because they know about me?"
"Well then we have a bit more of a fight," Sherlock said. "They have four men patrolling on the ground, eight up in the guard towers. The biggest problem would be for our ground forces." He was pulling on the harness, trying to watch the prison for any type of changes.
John nodded and turned to look at the prison with him, trying to see what the man was seeing. He spread out his wings and sighed. "It's been a rough few days," he mumbled.
Sherlock turned to look at him. "What's wrong?" he asked, eyes roaming over his form quickly.
"Just my wings are a bit cramped," John told him. "I haven't ever done this much flying especially not after a broken wing."
"Oh," Sherlock said clearly relaxing. "Be happy we won't be using them for a bit after this."
"I am but I'm not at the same time," John said. "It means we have to take another break and let them build up more defenses."
Sherlock shook his head. "It's perfectly normal to feel that," he mumbled. He looked back towards the prison and noticed something coming around the side. His eyes widened. "They're coming!" he yelled to his men. "Get ready to fight." He lifted his own rifle, firing off a few rounds as they grew closer.
John knew he had to help somehow. He looked around and grabbed a few grenades belts and put them on. He walked over to Sherlock and took off his dog tags, putting them around his neck. "Stay safe," he whispered.
Sherlock turned to look at him just in time to see the man fly off. It was the first time they would be separated during a battle. His hands started shaking slightly as he tried to not worry about John, his eyes going a light shade of gold.
The RA's got closer and bullets were flying past Sherlock and the other rebels. He hid behind a tree, quickly getting himself together. He lifted John's tags to his mouth and bit down on them. He swung around and started firing off rounds, hitting their targets.
Sherlock wasn't sure if they were going to get through all the men. There was just so many of them. He heard a small explosion go off as John dropped grenades on the forces that were attacking. He grinned. Maybe they had a chance.
X
It felt like hours had passed. The rebels were making progress, getting through the small force of men. Sherlock may have miscalculated their numbers but they had miscalculated theirs as well.
He noticed that John had disappeared some time ago and he was back to worry if he was alright. The other rebels were rushing pass Sherlock and towards the prison.
It took a few seconds for Sherlock to shake himself from his thoughts and run with them. He hoped that they didn't kill all the prisoners. It was a logical thing to do if you were hoping to stop a rebel force from getting more rebels.
Sherlock ran through the entrance, looking around quickly, quickly ducking behind a wall to avoid getting shot at, more men in the prison then. He quickly rounded the corner, firing off a shot nearly missing the RA.
Where were they all coming from? How could so many people be fed lies and believe them? He shook his head and moved furthering. He needed to find John, take down the warden and free the prisoners.
Angelo came to his side. "They're surrendering," he told him.
Sherlock gave him an odd look. "They're what?" he asked. "How could they be surrendering already?"
"Why are you questioning it?" Angelo asked. "Shouldn't we be happy?"
Sherlock shook his head. Something was wrong. He gave a command to Angelo to keep an eye on the RA's that were 'surrendering' and to shoot them if anyone made a false move.
Sherlock made his way through the corridors, looking in every door he could find. All the rooms were empty. When he reached the cells he looked inside them, watching as the men and women looked up at him with hope in their eyes.
So they were still alive, that was good. "Run," came a rough voice from one of the prisoners.
Sherlock stopped and turned to look at him. "What do you mean?" he asked, stepping closer to the bars.
The man coughed, his body shaking. "Run," he said again as if it was all he could say.
Sherlock clenched his jaw shut and started walking down the corridor again at a faster pace this time. He needed to figure out what was wrong. He should have turned around though. Taken the man's advice and run; however, he needed John.
John still was not to be seen. All the other men could die but Sherlock would have been fine if John would survive. He could feel his heart working at a faster pace, knowing he was growing nervous. He shouldn't have left his feelings get the best of him.
Once he reached the wardens office he paused. What surprise would he get now? Another long lost family member? He opened the door and stared at what was ahead of him.
A large spider's web covered the room, the warden's dead body in the middle of it. Sherlock stepped closer, his curiosity getting the best of him. He touched a strand of the web and the whole things bounced. Hundreds of spiders crawled from the warden's mouth and towards Sherlock.
Sherlock quickly moved backwards tripping over a box and sliding on the floor. He glanced towards the box and noticed it had a timer going down. Two minutes and thirty seconds it read.
His eyes widened and he quickly scrambled to his feet. Running from the room Sherlock skidded around the corner running as fast as he could to warn every one of the bomb.
Sherlock jumped down the stairs, eyes searching as he went for and of the rebels or John. When he finally reached his army the words weren't even out of his mouth when the bomb detonated.
X
Rubble was everyone as Sherlock finally came too. He was staring up at the sky, a small dust cloud blurring the view. He blinked a few times, sitting up slowly.
Sharp pain ran through his head and quickly he put his hand against it feeling liquid trailing down his head. He sighed as he pulled it away and saw the blood.
Sherlock looked around, his eyes looking at the ruined building. He could hear a few groans over the ringing in his ears. 'Groans, a good sign,' he thought. He stood up, slowly regaining his balance. He moved over large pieces of the building looking for his men.
Only a few were seriously injured and a few of them dead. The blast was big but not big enough it seemed as those who Sherlock found came together.
The RA's seemed to be still surrendering as they weren't trying to fight them at all. Sherlock found that odd still. If the bomb was their idea they wouldn't have stayed inside.
"Alright, start a search for anyone you can find," Sherlock said. "Rebel, RA, prisoner, anyone. If they are injured move those to one spot if they are dead move them somewhere else. If they are able to walk and help search have them do so. If it's and RA and is refusing to help send them to watch the dead." He paused, taking a quick look around. Still no John. "If you find John notify me right away."
He turned and started his own search.
X
With each passing hour Sherlock couldn't help but worry now. John wasn't anywhere it seemed. They still hadn't made it through all the debris from the blast. They were still finding new bodies, most of them dead as they got closer to the office the bomb went off from, none of them with wings.
He was leaning against the wall, gripping John's tags in his hand as tightly as he could. His mind was working, trying to figure out where John could be. He heard footsteps and his eyes shot open. It was Angelo. "Did you find him?" he asked.
Angelo shook his head. "Not yet," he said. "They think we should move on. We found all the living. They're afraid the RA's will start attacking again."
Sherlock let out a low growl. "We haven't found all the living yet," he said. "John's in here somewhere and we are going to find him. If you don't want to help then you and the rest of the army can leave and I will look for him myself."
Angelo sighed and looked down. "We'll keep looking sir," he said.
Sherlock nodded. "Thank you Angelo," he said. He turned away. "If we don't find him in an hour we will move on."
"Anything you wish sir," Angelo said. "Just try to relax for a moment. You look like you need it." With that he left Sherlock again.
Sherlock shut his eyes and sighed, gently pulling at his hair. He shouldn't ever get attached. This is what happened. You stress out and worry about those around you. It wasn't good for anyone. Especially the small army they had now.
He fell back against the wall again and slid to the floor. He continued to grip the tags in his hand. "Please be alive, John," he whispered. "I never say please, just this once I hope it works. You can't be gone just yet."
X
Sherlock felt someone tap his shoulder and his head bolted up, his head swirling with dizziness. He must have phased out. "Did you find him?" he asked, hope filling his words.
The girl nodded. "Yes sir," she said. "We found him under some broken boards holding a child to his chest."
Sherlock stood quickly, nearly falling over. "Show me," he said.
She could see the blood better once Sherlock stood up and out of the shadow. "Are you alright?" she asked. "We have people that can take care of you downstairs."
"I'm fine," Sherlock told her. "Show me where John is. Is he alive? Is he hurt?"
"Um, he's barely hurt," she told him. "Just a bit banged up like the rest of us. Follow me." She led him down the stairs and the small ramps the explosion made.
They made it to the ground floor and Sherlock looked around. "Where is he?" he asked, getting angry.
"I don't know sir," she said. "He was down here just a minute ago."
"Where did John go?" Sherlock asked the closest person.
The man pointed to one of the few intact rooms. "He's cleaning himself up a bit," he said.
Sherlock turned on his heel and went to the door. He stopped outside of it, thinking of why he was so angry. Why did he care so much about John? His heart started working harder again and he could feel the gears working as fast as they could.
He shut his eyes and opened the door. There was John, wiping dirt and dust from his face, a few cuts and bruises covering his body, but still whole. John turned and gave him a smile. "Sherlock," he said with a soft sigh.
Sherlock's heart slowed to a near halt and he couldn't help but feel relief flood over him. He rushed forward and pulled John into a kiss, all his emotions coming out all at once.
He felt John tense up but relaxed after a few seconds. Sherlock felt his strong arms wrap about his waist tightly, pulling him closer as he was kissed back.
A few moments had passed and Sherlock pulled back from him. "Don't you ever leave me alone like that again, do you hear me?" he asked. He dropped his head against his. "I thought you were dead John Watson. I thought I lost you forever."
John shook his head slightly, looking into his bright blue eyes. "I'm sorry," he murmured, kissing him again. "I am so sorry."
Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to ever let John go again. "You'll be the death of me one day John Watson," he murmured. "Just you wait."
So? I know it was short but was it worth the wait? Tell me what you think. Please. I know I say this all the time but I love the reviews. I will write more with them. So, write, like, review, I love you. I hope you all have a good night or a good day, or a good morning. BYE!
