John was going to go insane. He'd been cooped up in the base for a week working the hospital tent and he was about to scream from boredom. Sherlock followed him around helping where he could but even the dragon was getting tired of the menial tasks. One evening when it had been especially slow Sherlock disappeared for about an hour, coming back when the sky had darkened with a load in his arms. John stared at him quizzically, realizing he had his saddle and harnesses in his arms.
"We're going for a ride," Sherlock explained, dumping his things on the floor. "If I don't get out of here for a little while I'm going to burst." John didn't even argue as Sherlock changed, picking up the harnesses and fitting them into place and tightening buckles. They exited the tent through the back, avoiding the security guards patrolling the main area and Sherlock kneeled to let John clamber unsteadily onto his back. He only had one arm to hang on with so he tightened his knees around Sherlock's sides nervously. The dragon chortled then burst into the air, gaining as much height as he could as quickly as he could. They cleared the clouds overhead and Sherlock leveled out, moving into a gentle rhythmic pace. John sighed as the cool breeze brushed his face, patting the side of Sherlock's neck.
"Thank you," he said softly. "For allowing me to ride you. I needed this." Sherlock glanced back at him, golden eyes glimmering and made a series of whistling happy noises. They flew for another hour before Sherlock headed back towards the base, aiming for the back of the hospital tent. He landed smoothly, wings tucking against his side as John slid down, wobbling on his feet.
"Where have you been?" a dark voice asked suddenly. General Zane came out of the shadows, his black dragon launching at Sherlock and slamming the dragon to the ground.
"Sherlock!" John yelped. "We just went for a flight sir. I'm so sorry. We were just getting so bored in the medical tent."
"Moriarty heel," General Zane called and the dragon backed off Sherlock, leering at him. Sherlock made a pained noise and John hurried to his side. There were several bite wounds across Sherlock's shoulder, oozing steadily. "See to it that you do not go on another one of your joy rides without express permission Watson." The man left, snapping his fingers at Moriarty who followed in annoyance.
"Come on big fella," John encouraged, trying to get Sherlock to the medical tent. "I have to clean these wounds." As they stumbled inside Sherlock changed to his human form, grasping at his shoulder painfully.
"John," he whimpered, and allowed the doctor to lead him to an empty cot. John quickly gathered supplies and started cleaning the wounds, making Sherlock cry out in pain as he scrubbed. When he was all cleaned and wrapped up he curled up on the cot, whining painfully. John hesitated only a moment before carding a hand through Sherlock's dark curls gently. His fingers traced the shape of horns then wrapped curls around his fingers making the dragon purr in delight.
"Get some sleep," John instructed finally. "We both need it." Sherlock nodded, eyes already fluttering closed and John yawned before laying down next to the dragon comfortably.
"John," a voice was calling softly. He woke up with a groan, blinking up at the face of Mike Stamford. "What are you doing?" he asked, glancing at something right behind him. John started to sit up and was yanked back with a low growl. Sherlock was curled against him asleep, one arm draped around his middle. Molly stood behind Mike with a small smile on her face, hand at her chin like she'd been trying to cover it up.
"We had an incident last night," John explained softly, still trying to tug away from Sherlock's hold. "I had to bandage him up and we must have fallen asleep here." Sherlock finally let him go, curling in on himself and wrapping a wing around his body.
"Well I'm here to take over the tent, why don't you head back to yours before someone else comes in," Mike told him, gathering up the spilled supplies from the night before. Molly who was a wisp of a girl in human form, hurried after him to help, giving them one last smile.
"Come on Sherlock," John grumbled shaking the dragon slightly. A low growl was his only response but he got up, sliding into his dragon form as he exited the tent, tail dragging behind him. The sun was already high in the sky as they shambled towards their shared tent and Sherlock collapsed into his nest of blankets with a thud. John climbed into his own cot, pulling the familiar blankets around him and passing out.
Several Months Later
John grinned, flexing his fingers and looking up at Sherlock who looked equally pleased. He'd finally been cleared to go back out on missions, his arm healed. Sherlock was already in his harnesses and saddle, rocking back and forth in anticipation of getting to fly. John clambered onto Sherlock's back and they ran to the gate to meet the team heading into the field. There was only one other dragon team in their company and John was pleased to see that they were the only mounted pair. Sherlock tucked his wings against him, laying over John's legs and moved to stand next to the other dragon pair. He recognized the dragon as Anderson, a mottled green earth dragon. His owner looked longingly up at John, probably wishing he was allowed to ride his own dragon. They had been waiting quietly when another dragon stepped up beside them and John realized it was Lestrade, General Bowen sitting astride his back. "Move out!" Bowen called, smirking slightly at John. John smiled awkwardly back, adjusting his position in the saddle as Sherlock stepped forward. Lestrade and Sherlock both unfurled their wings and eyed each other in challenge. John gulped and Bowen smiled, patting Lestrade's neck affectionately. "Let's show these yellow bellies how to fly Lestrade," he challenged.
Sherlock narrowed his eyes and suddenly they were shooting into the air, gaining altitude with Lestrade and Bowen right behind them. John gripped the handle tightly, but let out a whoop of delight as Sherlock climbed higher and higher, the distance between Lestrade and Bowen growing. Wings snapped open suddenly, scooping air then they were diving, flying past a startled Lestrade. Sherlock spun as they dived, making John dizzy and his heart race. They leveled out a hundred feet over the marching group below, drawing quite a few hoots and claps. A moment later Lestrade leveled out next to them, breathing heavily, he'd obviously worked hard to catch up to them. Sherlock let out a grunting chuckle and John patted his neck affectionately.
"That..." Bowen breathed out heavily. "Was some damn fine flying." John grinned, he didn't need told, he knew how amazing Sherlock was. Seconds later an explosion rocked the ground below them and panicked yells could be heard through the dust and debris.
"Sherlock go!" John yelled, urging the dragon down towards the attack. Sherlock leveled out right above the cloud, scooping air and pushed towards it. The whirlwind of air was dispersing the cloud, making it so they could see what was going on. The enemy soldiers had created a sneak attack and were fighting hand to hand with many of their own team. Sherlock was looking around quickly, assessing, then went into a dive. John's hair stood on end as he felt the electrical build up then Sherlock was shooting an attack, taking enemies down left and right. A sonic boom went sailing past them and hit another enemy and John turned to see Lestrade and Bowen had joined the fray. Lestrade was an air dragon and his sonic booms were knocking people over as he created a more powerful whirlwind around them to push the rest of the dust cloud away. John focused back on what they were doing just as Sherlock slammed into the ground, whipping his tail around and taking out two more men as he shot an attack at another. John slid from his back, hurrying towards an injured comrade as Sherlock stayed close behind him. The man grabbed hold of John's arm as he reached him, his other hand pressed to his side where an arrow was protruding.
"Help me please!" he cried, gripping the arrow shaft tighter. John nodded sharply, pulling his hand away and assessing the damage. Sherlock had already moved the bag he needed within reach and he grabbed his supplies quickly. The majority of the arrow shaft he broke off, careful not to jar the wound more. He gathered a wad of cotton and a pressure bandage and looked up at the man's scared eyes.
"This is going to hurt, I'm sorry," he apologized and before the man could protest he yanked the rest of the arrow out, pressing the cotton over the flowing wound tightly. The man howled, gripping John's forearm so tightly it hurt, but John ignored him, wrapping the pressure bandage around his abdomen quickly and efficiently.
"Sherlock can you carry him!" John yelled up at the dragon. Sherlock shot another attack, smacked another man away then grunted, turning to help John push the man upright. The man looked scared to touch the huge creature but John urged him up, putting him in the saddle and instructed him to hold on to the handle. Sherlock was already attacking again and urged John away from the middle of the fray, keeping him protectively under his wing. The fighting was dying down as they neared the edge of the battle and John thought he saw Lestrade fly overhead, shooting a few more sonic booms. Another shadow and Lestrade landed in front of them Bowen sliding off and hurrying towards them.
"The rest of them ran," he told them, inspecting the man on Sherlock's back. "Transport is on its way for the injured. Looks like we won today."
The next few hours went by in a blur as John hurried around to his fallen comrades, fixing, bandaging, healing. Sherlock stayed firmly beside him, eyes still wary, but helping him lifting and moving patients. When the sun was starting to go down they were finally instructed to head back to camp. John was wobbly on his feet and leaned heavily against Sherlock as they made their way back. There were several packs strapped to the dragon's back and he was not entirely happy about being used as a pack horse, but he walked slowly beside John to help him along. As they entered the gates there was sudden cheering and a rush of soldiers came towards them, dragging John into the fray and smacking him on the back.
"Took out the whole group!" someone yelled, smacking him so hard on the back he almost went down. "Destroyed all of them!" Sherlock was making concerned chirrups behind him, growling at men that were trying to pat him in congratulations too. "Never saw anything like it!" John smiled awkwardly, trying to make his way out of the group and towards his tent until finally Sherlock shoved through the group grabbing John by the back of his vest and lifting him away from the grasping hands. John flushed as men started laughing but was pretty happy about getting away. When they were near the tent Sherlock let John down gently, pushing him again.
"I know I know," John grumbled. "I'm ready for bed too." John collapsed onto his cot, watching Sherlock stumble over to his nest and curl up cat-like. It didn't take long before he let exhaustion take him.