Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. The people arriving, shouting a distant dim sound...
A flash of curly black hair. Sherlock. The knowledge was in his head like a jagged piece of glass.
No. No, this wasn't Sherlock's fault. It was Moriarty. All Moriarty. Don't blame Sherlock. He was trying to help.
John knew that the emotions would hit him later, but he was a former soldier and he was a doctor. He had felt the sting and pain of loss before, but he had to keep moving. Because if he didn't keep moving, keep going other people could die, he could die.
"John?" Sherlock asked. "Did you get another message?"
"No," John said quietly. "I wanted to see the body."
"Not necessary," Mycroft said, looking at the doctor. "Get some rest. Sherlock?"
Grumbling, obviously not liking it but only obeying because it involved John. "Come along."
"Harry," John said quietly.
"Taken care of," Mycroft stated calmly.
John began to walk a bit with Sherlock before he paused. Something wasn't right about this...
Moriarty hadn't warned victims before. And the explosion... John was right outside. He would have been caught up in it. It wouldn't have been an inside thing.
He hadn't heard Moriarty's voice during this.
He pulled away from Sherlock and ran by everyone into the house where he saw... Clara. A bit scratched but fine.
What was going on here?
"Sherlock!" Mycroft snapped, someone grabbing John.
"By now even he's probably deduced it," Sherlock grumbled. "Right?"
"A trick?" John said, turning to look at the two Holmes brothers. "This was only a goddamn trick?"
"A training exercise," Mycroft said. "We asked if your sister and her former wife could help. We needed to see your reaction-"
"I was a soldier on active duty!" John roared. "You know how I act under pressure! You could have just-!"
"But John, it's-" Sherlock began.
"You knew?" John snapped, whirling to face his supposed best friend. "You just let him do this? You agreed?"
"It was just an experiment-"
John felt numb.
A training exercise. An experiment.
He didn't listen to anything else. He just turned and left. He would have done something he regretted if he stayed, he was sure of it.
"One thing I'm still concerned about, sir," Anthea spoke quietly. "The cameras. We didn't do that. They were arranged to watch him."
"I'm aware," Mycroft said simply, watching the retreating form of John Watson. "We'll be keeping an eye on him."
He knew that the doctor just needed some time to calm down before he realized that they had just been trying to assist him. He had to understand what he was up against, what he had gotten himself into. The only way for the doctor to truly understand that was to have, essentially, experienced it. But he had realized it was a training exercise far earlier than anyone had anticipated. Even Sherlock had stated it was going to take at bit longer. It was obvious that John Watson had surprised even him and that made Sherlock a bit proud of the doctor.
John walked through the London streets, not really wanting to return to Baker Street. He walked for hours, not really caring.
How could they have done that do him? It was easier to understand why his sister and Clara went with it, if they kept saying training. Mycroft probably made it worth their while financially as well.
And Harry would probably throw hers away in liquor.
The doctor sighed and looked around. He hadn't realized where he was, but he was near the London Eye. He just sat at a bench and looked around at the people walking by.
He was so tired. He tried to be a decent friend, a decent doctor, a good man... he really did. He didn't mind the crime scenes, the running all over London with (or after!) Sherlock, he liked hearing the other man's deductions. His life had seemed... better, no tremors, no limp, none of it.
And yet... it was coming to a head. The insults, the uncaring attitude, the presumption of control... and then there was Mycroft. He would always just show up and John, not wanting to insult Sherlock's brother, had always gone with him without much fuss.
It was a circle that didn't end.
They would keep this up, keep pushing him until he had nothing left to give. Keep toying with him...
The thought made John angrier. He was human, damn it, not some toy! Not some experiment!
But what could he do to show them? To show two brilliant men that he was not someone to toy with, to jerk around?
He couldn't do it alone. He needed an ally, someone he could trust. But who? Who... the two had their connections everywhere. Everyone John had thought he could trust here... could he trust them anymore? Not his sister, obviously... and everyone else, he knew through Sherlock.
Who to trust?
"Seems as if you're having trust issues again. Have to admit, for future reference I would never give that many hints."
Now this was the voice that had haunted John for a while, and the person sat next to him, adjusting his cap before turning to face John.
"What do you want?" John snapped.
"I told you before, I am a consultant," Jim Moriarty said, smirking.
John said nothing, just looking away.
He wanted to say no and he opened his mouth to do just that... but that wasn't what left his mouth, much to his own astonishment. Instead, what he heard himself saying was...
"How?"