Strong arms caught him graceful around the middle.
John squeezed his eyes shut and was secured close to a strong chest, a strong male chest. John squirmed deep in Anderson's grasp screaming at the top of lungs. He beat his tiny fists against the firm body in utter despair, there was nothing he wanted more than his master.
"Noooo!" He whined. "Let go! Let go! Buggar off! I want Sherlock!" The boy began to grow hoarse. "Kriff you. Buggar off!"
A robe was being drawn around his freezing shoulders, a mild comfort to a frightened boy. Thin fingers played at the end of his collar and slowly began undoing the notches. John felt himself being tilted back and a container being pressed against his mouth, its heated contains poured slowly pass his lips. The taste of honey and warm milk flowed over his tongue. An odd combination.
An odd familiar combination.
The sky blue eyes forced themselves open, Sherlock cocked his head slightly to the side. "I believe I told you not imitate that line." Sherlock quickly swaddled John's frozen feet under the robe blanket. John gave a small squeak.
Sherlock drew his child more comfortably to his chest, John gave a small hiccup and buried his face in the tunics. "I didn't run away. I promised you I wouldn't run away."
"I know, little one. I knew it the minute you vanished, worry not." Sherlock rested his chin on the top of John's head, assuring himself the boy was safe in his arms. He gave a low, possessive growl, his Gorian nature seeping through. Tremors found their way through Sherlock's tunics, alerting him to the child's frozen temperature. He wrapped the robe tighter around John's slender body.
"I was so scared." John fought against the robe, wanting direct contact with his mentor. Sherlock leaned into the wall and held him like an infant. "Master, I have never been so scared."
"I know, I know. Let it die in the past, they will not bother you again." The deep voice promised. He made John sip more of the warm milk.
"Master, you didn't…I mean, they're still…"
"They are still alive." Sherlock rocked him gently. "Do not cast me in the light of murderer, little one."
"I meant no disrespect." The child said softly.
The master found himself able to resist the cold enough to pull off his own boots and stand John in them, he handed the boy his thermos. He carried the child off to a corner and checked him for injuries. A nasty bruise where Donavan had hit him was swelling and his already sprained ankle seemed to have expanded to twice its normal size. Sherlock ran his finger over where the collar had been. "Morons."
He tucked John's limbs into his robe and enfolded him completely after the milk was gone. He hoisted the boy into the air. "Can walk." His parcel spoke quietly.
"Don't care." Sherlock huffed back. He pulled the hood over the blond head and completely shield John from the outside cold. Sherlock sank slowly to ground with John pressed deep against his chest. The left boot popped off first, and Sherlock massaged circulation into the purpling foot. He repeated the same slow, massaging movements with the right. "Hands." He commanded.
Tentatively John poked out Sherlock's reed pipes slowly. "Don't need them to know you're coming anymore, Master." The childish mumble. Sherlock pulled a small plush teddy bear from his belt and pressed both items back into John's bundle.
"Hang on to them for me." Sherlock pulled out a small hand and began attending to it as John snuggled his bear fiercely. A satisfying pink color returned into each hand. John gave a small whimper.
"They took my saber." He cried softly. "I dunno where…"
"Shush." Sherlock said firmly. "I will get it back for you."
"I don't know where it is." John sniveled.
Sherlock leaned forward slowly, his teeth gently grazed the tiny ear of his padawan before pulling quickly away. A Gorian show of affection. "We will get it back." He paused. "And no one will take you from me, John. Not unless you wish me to leave."
"Then Qui Gon…"
"Agrees we should stay together." Sherlock finished gently. John nuzzled his face into Sherlock's chest. They stopped speaking shortly after. Sherlock continued to rock John until soft breathing told him the boy was sleeping soundly. His right hand clutched desperately to Sherlock's thumb in his sleep. Tenderly the elder ran his index finger over each tiny digit.
He never wanted John to feel such fear again.
He didn't understand how anyone could make such an innocent looking child feel such fear. He rose to his feet and tried to hide his trembling fury. He needed to get John back onto the ship and out of the cold. He wrapped him tighter.
"Where ya think you're going freak?" A cold voice hissed behind him. A green saber missed his back by inches.
"Next time do not announce yourself before you attack. Idiot." Sherlock rolled his eyes and pressed John closer to him. If the boy were to wake, there was no doubt his fear would be renewed. He balanced himself on his toes, a sign of defense. "Where is John's light saber?"
"You know we were hoping you'd chance a daring escape by yourself. It takes the blood of both the master and the padawan in order to sever the bond." Donavan leveled her saber.
"Listen to me, because you are too stupid to see what you are dealing with. That is Sith tech, even if the bond is severed the mental damage will be incomprehensible." Sherlock said harshly. "Look at him, Donavan. He is only a child, you will destroy him."
"No more than you have! He has become violent and reckless because of you!" She shrieked. "The council never should have let you out of that cell, you should have rot."
Sherlock felt John squirm in the bundle. He gently prodded the young mind back into sleep. Obedience was more easily accepted and wrapped around with a sleepy mind. "I was ten. Is that really meaningless to you?" Sherlock could fathom anything, except for the hate of a ten year old boy so scared he had pissed his own pants.
"You reached into our minds, you took away free will!" She was foaming at the mouth.
"You struck me before that." Sherlock said with deadly quiet. "The minute you saw I was branded you struck me."
"Have you shown my little boy your brand?" Her eyes were turning a sick black color.
"You have already destroyed your bond with your padawan." Sherlock deduced softly. "Poor girl." He closed his eyes angrily. These people were no better than the Sith they accused him of being. He pulled John closer to his chest, the last thing he needed was for them to put John through that kind of Hell. "Tell Anderson if he is going to sneak in behind me to use softer soled shoes." Sherlock leapt away from an impending blue light saber. Once again the young knight had to touch John's mind to push him back into the sleep, but the padawan was beginning to fight him.
"Give him over to me, Holmes." Anderson's attempt at sound firm came out in an intimidated snarl.
"Anderson don't talk out loud, you lower the IQ the whole street." Sherlock said coolly. He shifted John into the crook of his elbow and placed his hand over the soft brow. Stay asleep.
John squirmed in his arms, the hood fell from his eyes. An understanding passed between master and pupil, John nodded slowly and allowed the knight to push him back into sleep.
John didn't want to feel such fear again.
He wanted to feel safe in his master's arms.
"Once your bond with him is severed we will send you back to your former master." Donavan hissed.
"Then you would have wasted your time. He will kill you the minute you hand me over." Sherlock said steadily. Sherlock eyed the pair circling him with their light sabers aim at his throat. He didn't attempt to reach for his saber, he was right handed, and John was sleeping peacefully in his right elbow. A low growl was barely audibly from Sherlock's lips.
"Give him here." Anderson said softly. "We don't want to kill you, Holmes."
Much to Anderson surprised, Sherlock let a small relieved sigh. "Honestly brother, what is the point of bringing you if you insist on making me entertain idiots for an unbearable amount of time?" Sherlock shifted John so his face was buried in the knight's neck. A strong hand rested on Sherlock's shoulder.
"You are as deplorable at giving directions as Greg, young one." Qui Gon's voice smiled. John's eyes fluttered open at the tall master's voice, the upper half of his face peeked over his master's shoulder. The little boy's eyes shown.
"Master Qui Gon." He said with quiet joy. He pressed his forehead into Sherlock's neck. "Safe." He mumbled.
"Yes.' Qui Gon agreed gently. He gave Sherlock a small look for permission, before taking John from his arms. The little boy had an odd way of making anyone feel protective. John curled into a ball against Qui Gon's chest, but reached a hand out of his blanket for the knight, his bear secured in the other. Sherlock gave him a thin finger to grasp.
Mycroft disarmed Anderson swiftly and quietly. Donavan barely had time to block his disarming technic as it swung down on her wrist. She hissed violently as Sherlock activated his own light blue saber and gave it a small twirl. "Please attack me, give me a reason." He snarled.
John whimpered as Sherlock took his hand away, but was soothed immediately by Qui Gon's gently voice in his ear. Sherlock and Mycroft cornered Donavan.
"John's saber," Sherlock snarled, "where is it?"
"You don't deserve his saber, it is not yours." Donavan raved.
"Dull. Why do you think it was given to John?" He snapped. Sherlock circled around to her right, Mycroft her left. "Give it to me." His voice was like ice. "The only thing restraining my curse is the boy you stole from."
Donavan's eyes narrowed. "You are a Sith through and through aren't you, Sherlock?"
The young knight pulled his lips back in a vicious snarl, Mycroft glared at him until Sherlock remained where he was.
But not for Mycroft.
John was watching him closely.
Sherlock shook his head violently, he struggled against the rage that built in his ears as he noticed John's swelling eye. He felt anger towards Mycroft, who was shaking his head firmly in Sherlock's direction. And most importantly he felt jealousy that Qui Gon was able to calm John faster than he.
"Master?" John sensed a dark change in his master's aura.
Sherlock set his jaw firmly. He calmed himself with slow even breaths, John wiggled in Qui Gon's arms. Sherlock's aura began settling once more. He sank his teeth into his lip as dark energy circled his mind, he called on a corner of it. Small enough that John would never notice and forced it on Donavan's saber. It trembled in her hands violently, cracks appeared down the hilt as the dark pressure increased. Sherlock slowly touched it with his mind.
It exploded in a ball of dust.
Donavan shrieked.
Mycroft yelled.
Qui Gon cover John's head.
John yelped.
Sherlock released the particles into the Force, nearly collapsing from exhaustion in the process. A green and clear crystal clattered to the ground. He stumbled forward and shouldered the wall. It had been almost fifteen years since he had done that to save his master.
"Sith's spit." He said harshly. His head ached terribly, blood rushed from his face, turning him a blanched white. John pushed himself out of Qui Gon's and rushed to Sherlock's side. The small boy nearly tripped in his master's large boots.
"Master!" John grabbed Sherlock's hand, a move that by any other would have caused the young knight to recoil. Sherlock merely looked at the little child with a smirk. John punched him forcefully in the leg. "Idiot."
"Glad to see you are well again." The knight mumbled softly. He sank slowly down to the floor, his breathing was labored. Every muscle in his body was drained, concern flashed over John's face.
"My…my…" Donavan stuttered. "You son of a Sith's whore!" She lunged for Sherlock's throat, but was stopped by Mycroft's strong arm.
"Relax." Sherlock growled low. "I can bring it back. John's saber for yours."
Donavan made an odd strangled noise and squirmed viciously in Mycroft's restraining grasp. Mycroft murmured something in her ear, slowly the hysterical being calmed. She glared at Sherlock as if wanting to tear him to pieces. Mycroft gripped her bicep firmly and dragged her away from the younger man. Qui Gon followed closely behind, shoving Anderson along with him.
Sherlock pulled his padawan into his lap and buried his face in the soft hair. John gripped the back of Sherlock's tunics in a hugging fashion.
But it wasn't really a hug.
Sherlock didn't give hugs.
"I'm sorry." John whispered into Sherlock's strong chest. "I'm sorry I wasn't big enough to stop Anderson…"
"John if you continue to blame yourself for this, I will happily give you to Donavan." Sherlock stroked the tiny boy's hair tenderly. "They hurt you. Do not pretend otherwise."
"I could have stopped them if I were bigger…" John whimpered.
"Yes." Sherlock said shortly. "But you did manage to escape and stall them for an hour." Sherlock pulled his robes hood over John's eyes. The child squirmed. "You did well, little one."
John nuzzled Sherlock's palm, the need to be held was growing strong in the boy's chest. Sherlock scooped the padawan up, while being cautious of the sore ankle and shifted the child's weight slightly.
"Stop growing." He huffed crossly. John beamed up at him, Sherlock pulled him closer. "Irritable child."
"Master…" The boy sighed. "You're cold."
"I've been worse."
It was the wrong thing to say, and John froze. Sherlock exhaled and pulled the padawan's braid, John glared at him. Their eye's sparred fiercely, but the boy knew better than to hold it for too long. He bowed his head in respect, Sherlock caught the boy's chin and made him look at his master.
"Enough brooding, little one." Sherlock set the boy back on his feet, but did not release the young jaw. "Now tell me how you are feeling." The master commanded.
"Fine." A tug on the sleeve.
"John."
"My ankle is a little sore." Another tug.
"Insufferable brat."
"I don't really wanna stand." The small mumble. Sherlock made to pick him up, but John shook his head. "You're too tired, you're hurt." Sherlock lifted him up anyway. "Master, you are…"
Sherlock put his hand over the chattering mouth. "Shush." Sherlock's impudent padawan had the nerve to lick the palm of his master's hand.
Mycroft was stalking back as Sherlock positioned John so he was sitting in the crook his elbow, the boy buried his face in the elder man's shoulder. Mycroft held up Lestrade's old light saber with a tired expression. "Keep your end of the bargain."
Sherlock carefully passed John over to his brother with a small grunt. Mycroft shot him a confused look.
"Oh stop, you saw what it did to me before. This time I will drop." He snapped. Sherlock reached out into the Force and began pulling the particles back. The strain immediately gave him the urge to vomit, but the knight pushed through until all the pieces were back together. Mycroft shouted for Qui Gon as Sherlock gracefully sank into darkness.
The cold voice of his former master echoed in his ears.
Good boy, good, good. But why in the world did you bring it back?