Story Ideas that aren't JohnLock

Hell if I know (pt. 2)

/// Continuation from 'Hell if I know'! I enjoyed writing that story so much, and I am still seriously considering making this a whole thing, I dunno. Tell me what you think, I love hearing from you guys.
TW/CW: Cursing, mention of drugs (like, sedative-type drugs), more hints to sexual/physical assault, but isn't explicitly said. Just, please don't read this I you're triggered by the thought of it, because it hints at it quite blatantly. Stay safe, lovelies 🥺
This is kinda angsty, I mean obviously, they're talking about assault and shit, but still, just know this is angst with a kinda happy ending :)
Enjoy! ///

If Declan had thought Archer cropping up on his front doorstep at stupid-o'clock in the morning was disastrous, clearly he had underestimated how bad it'd be when Archer actually woke up. To be completely fair to him, though, it would probably be a bit stressful to wake in the lair of your sworn nemesis with no recollection of what happened.

The room was quiet, with the frequent flipping of pages as Declan was still reading up on poisons and such while waiting for his enemy to wake. He was sat on the hard wood floor next to the leather sofa on which Archer lay; he didn't really want to leave him alone in his house. He'd probably find some stupid way to injure himself again, inevitably leading to another pointless argument, further solidifying their rivalry. That, and he was also ensuring that Archer was actually alive every so often, too. You know, priorities and all that.

It was actually while Declan was checking the other man's pulse, two of his finger's pressed firmly against Archer's neck, that the latter's eyes snapped open abruptly. Declan immediately drew back and retreated to the other side of the coffee table, his eyes wide and heart pounding. That was probably the most horror-movie-esque thing to ever happen to him.

Almost instantly upon waking, Archer let out a short scream and scrambled over the top of the sofa, landing with a heavy thump on the other side. He poked his head up from behind the couch, his eyes frantically scanned the room, taking in exactly where he was. Then, noticing that his enemy was in the room, he lurched forwards like a slightly disoriented bolt of lightening. He grabbed the first throwable thing his hand brushed against; the remote for the large TV set mounted above the fireplace. His mind was hazy and barely functioning, yet he nonetheless swung his arm back in preparation to hurl the remote as accurately as he could in his current state. Declan's eyebrows shot up as he saw this and he slowly backed up against the wall.

"Wait, hang on a second! Just put the remote down, man! We can talk this ou-" He had hardly finished his sentence before Archer haphazardly flung the remote in the general direction of Declan, but completely missing and instead knocking down a picture frame from the wall.

"Dude, let's just talk this out, there's no need for this! I thought you were supposed to be fair and just or whatever!" Declan exclaimed, ducking down behind a small cabinet.

"Evil doesn't stop to talk!" Archer growled.

"NOT WHEN YOU THROW TV REMOTES AT IT!" Declan screamed back, poking his head out to see Archer holding his favourite coaster like a throwing knife.

"Oh, come on, don't throw that! That's my favourite-" He threw it, it sliced through the air and slammed into the wall next to Declan's head. Huffing, Declan decided enough was enough. This was getting them nowhere, only potentially breaking his favourite possessions and chipping his wallpaper. So, Declan held his arms out and slowly stepped away from the cabinet, facing the terrified-looking hero.

"Okay, calm down. Please, just stop throwing my shit around. I know you're scared, I would be too; I understand. Just please, put down my mug." He added on the last part after noticing Archer shakily clutching his Doctor Who mug that had been sat peacefully on the table. Declan looked at him, and they locked eyes for a moment; nervous, slightly tired eyes met frantic, scared ones. There was a beat of silence... before Archer hesitantly set the mug back down on the table. Declan sighed gratefully and lowered his hands before cautiously approached the sofa in which Archer was hiding behind.