A/N: Thanks to everyone who's following along and checking out my story. I had soooo much fun writing this chapter. It's is more action packed and bloody. Thanks to hjohn302 and sneakysnakes for their lovely reviews. And sneakysnakes – as promised!
Chapter 4 – Same Night
John took one of Sherlock's shortcuts through an alley. His heart was pounding and he was desperately trying not to think about what the note could have meant. Not the contents. He wasn't thinking about the contents at all. He was thinking about who could have written it. He had to get to Baker Street and check out the flat.
One part of his brain was chiding the rest not to get his hopes up. It could all end in disaster and heart break so easily. Sherlock is dead. You saw him fall. It whispered to him. It also told him that even if Sherlock were alive and he had written the note, there was no guarantee that he would be at the flat. The rest of John's brain told that small part to please shut it. He'd deal with the repercussions later. This was the first time in a long time grief wasn't his primary emotion and he clung to that like a drowning man. He hurried down the alley.
Something on a subconscious level must have alerted him. He heard a noise coming from behind him. He belatedly remembered the contents of the note.
He could almost hear Sherlock's voice in his ear.
John, you are an idiot.
Yes, thank you Sherlock. I believe you are quite right. He sighed.
He turned and saw a very large man coming towards him carrying a large baseball bat in his hands. Or a small log. Hard to tell in the dim light of the alley. As John reached for his gun, he realized he had left it back at the flat. Along with his mobile. He'd been in such a hurry.
Really John. I thought you were more intelligent than that. I had hopes you know.
Shut up Sherlock.
John's body filled with adrenalin as it prepared itself for a fight. He was alerted to noises coming from the other end of the alley. He glanced behind him. Big and Ugly wasn't alone. There were four (four!) more large and ugly men making their way towards him.
Oh shit!
John felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Even with all of his hand-to-hand combat training, he might have been able to take on two or three, but five was pushing it!
He may have felt scared at that moment, but he wasn't a coward. He sized up the competition and decided to take out Ugly #1. Without thinking about it anymore he ran in hard and came in low. Ugly #1 was momentarily caught off guard. He started to swing the baseball bat, but John had a head start. He was able to duck under the swing and he tackled Ugly to the ground. The brute smacked his head on the ground, hard. John finished up with a left hook to Ugly #1's jaw and he was out.
By the time he discovered #1 was out, Uglies 2 to 5 had run up behind him. 2 and 3 grabbed his arms and yanked them up high behind John's back. He grunted, determined not to cry out. It hurt like hell and his bad shoulder started to burn. Ugly #4 stood in front of him and grabbed the top of John's head and jerked it up hard. They were puting tremendous strain on his shoulders and neck, but he just glared at #4. His head was yanked again and John felt a few strands of hair say goodbye to his scalp.
John was feeling some trepidation because he hadn't really seen Ugly #5 yet, but he figured he had enough to be going on with at the moment. Ugly #4 loomed in close. He let go of John's head, pulled back his arm and swung hard. John gasped and saw stars. He wondered briefly if he was going to pass out. Ugly #4 must have been wearing a ring, because John could feel blood coursing down his cheek. He shook his head to clear it. He tried to prepare himself for further blows, but he knew if they kept this up, he wasn't going to last long. Lack of sleep and sparse eating had taken its toll.
Sleeping and eating are important, John.
Hey that's my line! Smart arse, arrogant twit.
Ugly #4 drew back his arm again.
There was a strange moment while John was waiting to be hit again, when the man in front of him hesitated. Then John thought he heard a thud. In the dim light of the alley he started wondering:
was that thud?
does Ugly #4 look surprised?
3. Why is Ugly #4's body falling towards me?
Because it was. Ugly #4's body was slowly falling forward towards the three men standing there. Uglies 2 and 3 seemed almost as surprised.
"Charlie mate, wotcher playing at?" One of the Uglies cried out.
Charlie's (aka Ugly #4) body hit John. He was big and brawny and his weight hitting John and the other two was enough to push them all back. Charlie collapsed, face first, sliding down all three men. John glanced down at the man on the ground. It looked like a throwing knife was sticking out of his back.
John blinked slowly, wondering what the hell that meant, when he heard a faint whistling sound, another thud and a gurgling noise. He glanced to his right. Ugly #2 had his hands up around his throat. Blood was gushing out of his neck and mouth. He sank to his knees and also fell to the ground.
John was momentarily stunned. In that split second Ugly #3 managed to grab both of John's arms and heaved up on them again. This time John cried out. Then his brain, while nowhere near as fast as Sherlock's, decided it was time to kick back into combat mode. He assessed the situation. He was beginning to realize that whomever it was throwing the knives, was picking off the Uglies in a cold and precise way. They must have been good, because the two kills so far had been accurately placed despite the dim lighting in the alley. That person wasn't anywhere in sight either. He sincerely hoped, whoever it was, they were on his side.
As this was going through John's head, Ugly #3 must have been an uncommonly brave man or uncommonly stupid. Or perhaps he was more afraid of whoever was in charge of the idiots sent against John, rather than the knife thrower. He reached down, holding both of John's arms with one hand. He calmly pulled the knife out of his dead friend's neck, using his foot to hold the body in place. John tried shifting his weight to push the Ugly over and set about stomping and kicking backwards, but it was no use. He must have weighed twice as much as John and he looked twice as tall. He was a tree.
Ugly 3# calmly took the knife, covered with the other man's blood and held it against John's throat. Ugly #5 decided to make an appearance at that moment and stepped forward into John's vision. He was calmly smoking a cigarette. He called out to the dark, in a voice that was much more cultured sounding than the other man's had been.
"You may have disabled two of my men and the good doctor took out the third, but we seem to have reached an impass. Kindly put away your toys and join us, otherwise my man here will slit the doctor's throat and that would be a shame. I did have questions for him before he died. Oh well." He sounded almost bored.
The only reply was a third knife flying through the air to stick up to the hilt in Ugly #5's chest. John was impressed in spite of the situation. That shot was a direct hit to the heart. The man crumpled slowly to the ground, without another sound.
Ugly #3 suddenly looked nervous. John didn't really blame him. Even though John's life was on the line, who ever the knife wielder was, they were very calmly and efficiently eliminating everyone. They didn't seem to have any worries about John having a knife to his throat.
Ugly #3 must have finally reached the end of his courage, because he violently shoved John away from him, dropped the knife and took off running back down the alley. He shoved John so hard that it sent him sprawling to the ground and John hit his head against the pavement. As he blacked out, he thought he heard a gun shot. He also thought he heard light footsteps coming his way. And then he heard nothing.
oOo
When he regained consciousness, he was lying face up on the ground and someone was lightly patting his face.
"Dr. Watson, Dr. Watson? Can you hear me?" A little firmer. "John, I need you to wake up now! Come on."
Hmmm, he thought. The voice sounded feminine. I guess it can't be Sherlock. He started giggling a little at that thought. (Oh God my head hurts!) Girl Sherlock! Maybe he's been reincarnated as a girl! He giggled some more.
He must have been giggling out loud, because the patting on his face stopped. Good! It had been annoying. The person, girl, whatever, started talking, surprise evident in her tone.
"You're laughing? Good God, you really are the most unusual man I've ever met. And that's saying something!"
John's next thought was that she wasn't British. American maybe? He couldn't tell and his head hurt too much. He slowly blinked open his eyes. His vision came into focus. He was staring into an absolutely lovely pair of eyes.
A woman was crouched over him, with a look on her face warring between concern and amusement. He recognized at the same moment she realized he was awake, that she must have been the person who had killed all the Uglies. A slight shiver went down his back as he remembered how coldly and efficiently she had killed those men. He opened his mouth to address this, but what came out was:
"You are absolutely lovely. Did you know?"
Oh God Watson. That's a bit Not Good!
She frowned at him, puzzled and then her face cleared as if she were remembering something. She grinned at him, her whole face lighting up. Her eyes gleamed with wicked humour.
"You are certainly a piece of work, Dr. Watson!"
He looked into her eyes and finally asked the question that had been plaguing him since the first knife came flying out of the dark.
"Who the hell are you?"
She hesitated as if she wasn't sure how to answer that and then she came to a decision.
"I'm Mary," she said simply and she helped him to his feet.
John thought to himself, that Mary really was the loveliest name.
A/N: I hoped you had a much fun with that chapter as I did writing it. I really wanted this one up and running. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up. Apparently the house won't clean itself!