The Loving Detective

Drei

Heavy rain unexpectedly started to fall, darkening the sky. "You remember the forecast saying it's supposed to rain today?" The cab driver asked the two men in the back of the car.

"It's been quite unpredictable this past week." Sherlock replied, keeping an eye out the window. John was doing the same, though he was getting more anxious as they drove through the woods. It wasn't heavy and thick woods, but with the rain and how dark it was outside, anything could happen. His hands couldn't stay still as he pinched and pulled on the fabric of his sweater. A few flyaway strings fell out into the palms of his hands, causing him to shove his hands into his pockets.

"You okay?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah- no, yeah. I'm fine. We're close to home, we'll be fine." He bit the inside of his cheek, not being able to relax on the ride home.

"I thought you liked rain?"

"I do," John adored the sound of rain hitting the roof of a quiet flat, or watching puddles fill from his second story window, "just driving in rain. Gets me all nervous." Sherlock simply nodded, and for a moment no one said anything afterwards. The wet sounds of the tires hitting puddles and diving over broken sticks was the only noice present in the cab. Sherlocks placed his hand onto Johns bouncing knee, immediately stopping its movement. He started to slide it further down his thigh, but not to uncomfortably far. They both glanced up at one another, like they were speaking a language through their eyes.

Their moment was interrupted by the cab swerving, causing Sherlock to fall on top of John. They both awkwardly laughed, but then a huge branch landed onto the top of the cab.

—

"John. John, wake up." Sherlock shook Johns bloody face awake, and a massive sense of relief came upon him when John finally woke up.

"Sherlock?" He pressed two fingers to the blood on his forehead, hissing at the pain, "Sherlock, what happened?"

"A tree fell, I'm sure the driver is dead, I'm quite stuck." John finally noticed the positions they were in and Sherlock was hovering over John, like he was moments before the crash. Sherlocks foot had been stuck under some piece of metal or tree branch, neither of them could tell, and something in his hand was definitely broken. Small shards of glass were both in one another's faces and hands, but that was causing the least amount of pain out of everything.

"Sherlock, I think my arm is broken. Or something. Somethings wrong." John started to ramble on, panicking.

"Hey, hey, John. Do you have your phone?"  John attempted to search his pockets with his moveable arm, and found no phone. "Shit. I think I left it at Marty's shop." Sherlock sighed and the breath hit Johns raw face. They sat for a few minutes, going over ideas of what they could do. The rain was pouring, but not as hard, though there was still a strong wind present. It seeped through the shattered glass, hitting their skin.

"Do you think he has a phone?" John gestured to the presumably dead cab driver.

"John, you want to use a dead mans phone?"

"Do you have any other ideas?"

"No you're right, can you reach it?" John tried to reach his arm through the space between the seats and car doors, and dug into his pockets. As he stretched, parts of his body aches, causing him he wince. Though thankfully he found it in the first pocket right away.

John handed Sherlock the phone, and he dialed '999' into the cracked screen. The phone picked up, "hello, this is Sherlock Holmes with John Watson, we are stuck in a car accident on Westmoores Street. We have one death and two in need for medical assistance, thank you!" Sherlock hung up after he got a word of confirmation and just sighed. He rested his head onto the back of the front car seat, staring down at John.

"Like what you see?" John joked.

"No, you look hurt." Sherlock replied in a much more melancholic tone.

"Well, I am, but so are you. There is no reason to worry about each other. We'll make it." A silence followed.

"I'm still going to worry about you." Sherlock placed his good hand onto Johns unbroken hand, and intertwined their fingers. It happened almost unconsciously, like it was habit for them. John started to close his eyes, but was forced to keep them awake from needy Sherlock.

They sat in these uncomfortable positions for nearly ten minutes. neither of them knew why the ambulance was taking so long to reach them. Johns arm started to go numb, but pain spread everywhere else inside his body. Sherlocks back hurt from sitting himself up and position his ankle was in. The rain was still pouring hard, making John shiver every so often.

Sirens from a distance could be heard, and they both let out the most relieved sighs. The lights followed and were soon parked right outside the destroyed car. The paramedics managed to separate Sherlock and John without causing more injuries, though they had to be sent in separate ambulances.

"Let me ride with John Watson!" Sherlock incited a fit, mostly among himself. The paramedic just wheeled him onto the ambulance, ignoring Sherlocks complaining.

John laid back, staring at the ceiling inside the moving vehicle. He wanted to enjoy a day with Sherlock, yet he managed to take him out and almost get him killed.

"You two a couple, if you don't mind me asking?" The paramedic asked John and she wrapped his wrist in medical bandage.

"I don't know."