Sherlock
5 hours 30 minutes
Oh God. Only six hours left, and no sign of John yet. Nothing. Sussex bridge is stupid, boring and pointless. Nothing. Moriarty is toying with me. I should have suspected it. Another box, another clue, another message to mock me.
Tsk Tsk Sherlock. I've told you. I'm so changeable. Your pet isn't here. I've moved him. Now you're thinking how unfair I'm being. You should have come out to play earlier mister. How long do you have now? Five hours? Maybe six tops. A riddle for your thoughts?
A Bridge, named after a city,
Large and firm,
It stands tall.
A box that's large,
And a man inside.
I bet he's crying.
Fives hours left,
Can you find?
Before the ticking stops,
And the fire begins.
Five hours left my dear. Can you find him?
I crumble the note up. Five hours. Five hours left to find John. London bridge, obviously. Is he saying that he has John in a box? OH HELL! I think John might be a little bit claustrophobic.
"London bridge, on the double."
John
This box is too small. I can hardly breathe. Oh God. I'm going to die. I don't want to. I don't want to die. I've managed to untie my hands, my wrists are raw and the skin is broken. Jim didn't tie my feet together, there isn't room in the box to move. Oh God. I can't find the opening. There is no door. I can't get out. Oh God help me.
Sherlock
3 hours 10 minutes
Oh God. Where is he? I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill Moriarty. He will never see the light of day again. Oh God. I scan the shore again. Nothing. Oh God. I pace back and forth, back and forth, kicking up muck and debris. Nothing. I peer across the Thames. I have to find John. I just have to find him.
John
Sherlock. Oh God. He's going to go insane. He needs someone to help him. It was my calling and I got myself into trouble. Oh God. I can't move. My phone. I can reach it now, barely, but I can. I dial Sherlock's number, speed dial one. Pick up, pick up. Sherlock. Pick up your bloody phone, for once. This time I need you.
Sherlock
3 hours
My phone, it's ringing. Slowly I take it out. OH MY GOD. It's John.
"John. Where the Hell are you?" His voice is shaky,
"I don't know Sherlock."
"What do you know about the place?"
"I'm in a box. Near the Thames. I don't know where. But what time is it?"
"Early."
"Oh my God. Come find me. Please. Just find me."
"I'm trying friend, I'm trying."
"How long has he given you?"
"I have three hours left John. Only three."
"Sherlock."
"Yes John?"
"I believe in you."
"Thank you."
"Did he tell you what would happen if you didn't find me?" I have to find him. He's scared, he's trying to suck it up, but he's scared. Oh God.
"Yes."
"I'm the one that's going to experience a mental breakdown any minute, so would you care to share?"
"From what I can gather, if I don't find you, you're going to burn." John swears,
"At least it's better then drowning, or suffocating." John. You idiot. Now is not the time to be making jokes, you of all people should know that. "Sherlock."
"What?"
"If I die, just know that sharing a flat with you has been amazing. Even if I hate you sometimes, and if you scare me sometimes. If I had to relive the past, I would do it again and again. You're my best mate."
"Thank you John, but now really isn't the time to be saying goodbye. I'll finish up on this side of the Thames and then I'm heading over to the other side." I pause, and hear him shift a little on the other line. Oh God. He's scared. "I will find you John. You can count on that." and I hang up the phone. Oh God. He's scared, he's going to die, and it's all my bloody fault.
John
He's going to find you John, you just have to close your eyes and pretend it's a dream. Because it is, and when you wake up, Sherlock will be standing over you with his skull and a frown on his face because you fell asleep on the couch. Oh God. Stop thinking like that John. You were in war! You shouldn't be thinking like this. I should, I so should. I don't like small places. I had enough of that in Afghanistan. Oh God. I'm going to die in here. Alone, cold, and scared. Oh God. It has to be a dream. I pinch my shoulder, not a dream. Oh God. That bastard. Sherlock is going to kill him. He's going to kill the bastard.
Sherlock
1 hour 25 minutes
What have I been doing all this time? Eh? One hour left, one and still, no sign of John. Oh God. What is that? Across the Thames? What is it? Is it a... box?
"Oh my God." I whisper quietly, a concrete box, barely noticeable, but right there. All this time. Oh my God. John is locked up inside of that. He was talking to me, from inside that box. Oh God.
John
How many hours have passed? How much time do I have left? I don't know. Sherlock. Don't fail me now. Please. Oh shut up John. Shut up. And don't you dare cry. What are you? A baby? No. You're a soldier. A scared soldier. John. What? What did you do in Afghanistan when you were scared? I pushed the fear back, gritted my teeth and let my bullets fly. But I'm not in Afghanistan, I'm in a concrete box, with no way out. Sherlock is going to find you. Grit your teeth and focus on happy thoughts okay? You're going to make it through this. Am I? You are.
Sherlock
1 hour
One hour, one hour to try and save him. Can I do it? Yes of course you can. I circle the concrete box, there has to be a way for Jim to have gotten him in there. The top of course. I hope to God that John knows Morse code.
John
What the HELL! Someone found me? They're tapping on the side of the box! Why don't they let me out? SHUT UP JOHN! LISTEN!
Three shorts. Pause. Three longs. S-O so what? Short long short. Pause. Short long short. R-R. Wait. One more letter. Long short long long. S-O-R-R-Y. Sorry for what?
Sherlock
30 minutes
With one heave I push the box over. Have to reach the top, therefore, I need to bring the top to the ground. Sorry John.
"Sorry John. Forgive me."
"Never." comes the muffled reply. I smile. John. That's John all over. I circle to the top of the box.
John
Should have known he was going to push me over. There is a noise above my head and the top of the box comes off. I'm on my side so I tilt my head to get a good look at Sherlock, screwing my eyes up as the light starts to make them smart and sting.
"Took you long enough." Nothing can describe the happiness I feel as my eyes adjust and Sherlock stands there smiling at me.
Sherlock
5 minutes
"Better crawl on out of there. John."
"No argument from me."
"It's just. According to my calculation, you've got five minutes before that box blows itself apart." John starts and tries to wiggle from the box. Oh thank God I found him in time. Thank God.
"You're going to have to help me." He holds his hands out, his wrists are raw and the skin is broken and jagged. Bleeding. Moriarty is going to pay. With his life. I grip John's hands and start to pull him out. He stands, smiles and then nearly topples over. "Sherlock. I can't feel my bloody legs." I check my watch, 2 minutes. Bugger. Helping John up I throw one of his arms over my shoulder and we start to make our way as quickly as possible from that wretched box. Not quick enough. I look behind me as the box explodes, sending concrete and fire in every direction. The flames hit us square in the back and I shout as it forces us to the ground, making us fly through the air. John is ripped away from me, and the world grows black.