So since we're 7 chapters in now I figured I'd introduce myself. I'm Ashley and this is my first fanfic in a very long time. I haven't been able to really sit down and write for the last 2 years because I was so busy with full time school and a job. Now that I have finished my RVT education I have a little free time on my hands and my fingers have been itching to write. I apologize if the writing doesn't flow very well, it will get better the more I write. I'm very out of practice. Sorry about the short hiatus the last few days, I started watching Supernatural and stumbled into the world of Destiel and got a bit sidetracked. OMG I love Cas. I might be writing a short oneshot of them just to get it out of my system before I get fully back to this.
I'm not going to beg for them but reviews are encouragement. I love to hear you guys are enjoying the story and what stuff you're really liking so I can include more of it. So on to the story!
John and Sherlock were packed up and headed toward the gate before the sun had even risen fully, steps not making a sound. Once they were near the front gate Sherlock kneeled, allowing John to climb into the saddle easily. Seconds later they were in the air, Sherlock gaining height so they could use the cloud cover to hide in. The air was still crisp and cool this early in the morning, but the rising sun promised warmth as John pulled his jacket more tightly around him. Sherlock had looked at the map they'd been given that morning and claimed he had it memorized so John sat back and relaxed, letting the dragon take them where they needed to go.
They'd been flying for hours when John realized they were losing altitude. As they descended from the clouds he noticed the ground below them had become wooded and a misty fog was settled over the tops of the trees. The closer they came to the ground, the muggier it got till John was questioning whether or not he'd be able to remove his jacket without falling off the dragon. Sherlock started a wide circle, descending as if to land and John noticed the small clearing below. When they were about 50 feet above the clearing Sherlock leaned and dove, slamming into the ground and bounding a few paces. John immediately slid from his back, shrugging the jacket off and walking around trying to get his balance back. He felt bow legged from riding for so long and Sherlock chuckled in that chirrupy way of his before shrinking down into his human form. He shook the rest of his harnesses off, digging through one of the bags and pulling out a pair of cargo pants that he yanked on briskly.
"I needed a break," he explained as he buttoned. "It's been a long time since I've flown this far in one day."
" 's all right," John chuckled. "I needed one too. I'm hungry and gotta pee." Sherlock's eyes scanned the surrounding area suspiciously before nodding with a grunt. He started digging through their food supplies bag so John wandered off into the woods to find a suitable tree.
He was finishing up when he heard a branch crack behind him. He spun around and let out a yell as he was tackled to the ground by a dragon. He cried out in pain as a clawed foot slammed into his shoulder holding him down. The dragon pulled its head back, flame gathering in the back of its throat and John clenched his eyes closed waiting for the end. Suddenly the weight was knocked off of him and he gasped for air, curling to his side and trying to push himself up. Something was standing over the top of him and he quickly realized it was Sherlock's scaled belly. John could feel the tremors of Sherlock's snarls all the way through his body and almost whimpered in fear. The dragon that had attacked him was getting to its feet a short distance away, shaking its head and pawing at the burnt flesh on its side where Sherlock had struck him with one of his lightning blasts. The dragon was a yellow orange color and had a frill of dark orange spine down its back. It was well fed, John would venture towards chubby and it's dark green eyes regarded them both in annoyance. It started talking in chirrups and whistles, almost seeming to scold Sherlock to which Sherlock stared back in stony silence. Once it was finished Sherlock let out a couple indignant huffs and snorts, slamming his paw on the ground near John. The other dragon snorted but turned and started walking away, limping somewhat and making Sherlock chuckle haughtily.
He finally stepped aside, nuzzling into John gently to see if he was all right. John used his good arm to wrap around Sherlock's neck and be pulled to his feet where he stood with trembling knees for a moment before heading back towards the clearing. Sherlock shrank as they walked, shaking out leathery wings and tucking them neatly against his back. He snatched his discarded pants off the ground nearby, yanked them on and steered John to a tree stump to sit on. John dropped happily to his seat, allowing Sherlock to ease his shirt over his head to better see the wound in his shoulder. It was sore more than anything but there were several puncture marks from the dragons sharp claws. Sherlock went to the medical bag, gathering antibacterial ointment and bandages as John watched him in a daze.
"Did you know that dragon?" he asked suddenly and Sherlock visibly flinched. The dragon made his way back to John, smoothing ointment over the wounds before he answered.
"That was Mycroft," Sherlock said softly. "He's my brother."
"Your brother?" John exclaimed and almost fell off his seat if Sherlock hadn't grabbed his arm to steady him. "Why did your brother attack me?"
"Gauging emotional reactions," Sherlock shrugged. "Assessing weaknesses. The sort of things government officials like to keep track of."
"You hit him though," John argued as Sherlock wrapped bandage around him. "Like really badly."
"Mycroft deserves it," Sherlock growled.
"If you have a brother, why were you in the dragon center?"
"I don't want to talk about it!" Sherlock snapped, tying the ends of his bandage down a little tighter than necessary and making John wince. "Are you all right now?" he asked, voice softer.
"It hurts," John mumbled, trying not to sound totally pathetic. Sherlock smiled gently, hand ghosting through John's hair a moment before he was digging through the medical bags again. He came back with a water bottle and a few pain pills, handing them over one at a time.
"Think you can ride?" Sherlock asked after giving John a few minutes. John nodded, accepting Sherlock's help as he wrapped an arm around the man and lifted him gently. John swayed slightly but steadied himself and released Sherlock to stand on his own. He nodded once and Sherlock stepped away, sliding into his natural form and towards his abandoned harnesses. John shook his head to clear it then bent to help Sherlock get into his harness. Sherlock laid all the way down to make it easier for John to climb up and gave him plenty of time to get adjusted before he took off again. He headed back into the cloud cover, wings pumping steadily, trying to fly as gently as possible. John meanwhile was just concentrating on holding on, bending low over the saddle and trying to keep his head clear. He must have hit his head on the ground harder than he'd originally thought. His eyes were getting heavy, the world around him skewing and he vaguely wondered if Sherlock was doing spins through the sky. That couldn't be possible though because he wasn't even holding on to the saddle. The wind was blowing and he turned his face in to it and realized the ground was getting closer. He thought he heard a shriek then it all went black.