Sherlock Holmes & The Knights Templar

Homecoming or Heartbreaking?

Today was the day, the day that John would need to be ready to travel, for a transfer point was opening just outside of Jerusalem and Isaac had informed them that it would be awhile before they would be able to access it again. Sherlock was worried that John wasn’t strong enough to travel and even though his speech patterns were improving he still had horrendous nightmares and his appetite was non-existent.

“John, as soon as the sun sets we will have to head out for Jerusalem, so we can get home. Do you understand?” Sherlock asked for John wasn’t making eye contact which usually meant he was disengaged. “John, can you hear me?” Sherlock asked again as he gently put his fingers under John’s chin and lifted his head so that he had to make eye contact.

John avoided Sherlock’s intense gaze and then after a few moments he looked up into Sherlock’s face. “Yes, I understand, we’re going home, right?”

Sherlock nodded as he took John’s hand in his own. “Yes, John we’re going home.”

That night they all said their good-byes to the tribe and headed out. John insisted that Sherlock ride on his horse with him and since he was a strong sturdy animal Sherlock had no objections. The moon was full, bathing their journey in a ghostly blue light; Sherlock’s eyes became heavy laden with sleep, so he nuzzled his face under John’s pony tail and rested until they came to a stop at an oasis.  Taking one more whiff of John’s scent, Sherlock reluctantly slid off the horse and made his way over to where the camp was being set up for the blistering sun was already starting to make its appearance. After their tent was assembled, Sherlock took John by the arm and led him to their home for the day.

As they lay side by side, John burrowed closer to Sherlock until they were a perfect fit, and Sherlock couldn’t resist the impulse to lick the back of John’s neck. John rolled over until he was on top of Sherlock. “Are you feeling tense Sherlock? Do you want me to jerk you off?” John said as he reached his hands into the folds of Sherlock’s clothing. When John’s hands found their target, Sherlock gasped, amazed at how his body thrust itself desperately towards John’s fingers.

“Sherlock, you do want me to jerk you off just like I did Jim? Does it bother you that I slept with Moriarty?” John asked softly as his hand struggled to control Sherlock’s body.

As difficult as it was Sherlock pulled away from John and whispered through gritted teeth, “John, I know you slept with Moriarty and I don’t care.”  

John smiled back and continued where he left off and as the first rays of the daylight illuminated John’s face, Sherlock wriggled out of John’s grasp, for John’s eyes held no expression, just like a corpse, they stared vacantly back at Sherlock. Though John, wasn’t asleep he wasn’t fully cognizant either. Sherlock blinked and then tested his theory by gently reaching between John’s legs, nothing, no pulsing firmness, no radiating warmth begging for release, there was no response, it felt as wilted and dry as a drought parched plant. John reached back into Sherlock’s clothing and Sherlock felt like he was being tortured as he allowed John’s fingers to entwine around him for a second before he rolled away from John and stood up.

“John, this isn’t right, as much as I want you, the desire needs to be mutual,” Sherlock emphasized each word as if they were his last and then bent down kissed John on top of the head left the tent and walked over to where the camels where tethered. “Shut up,” Sherlock snapped as the camels watched him relieving himself yet again.

The next night Sherlock and the rest of the party waited for Isaac to meet them at the designated transfer point and Sherlock didn’t know whether he felt full of excitement or dread, for they were going home and if John’s spirit remained broken, it wouldn’t be a homecoming it would be a heart breaking-his heart-Sherlock’s heart.

After a few hours, Isaac materialized out of the darkness, and gave Sherlock, John, Mycroft, and Mary their instructions, but when he started to lead Hope away from the party, John and the horse fought to remain together. “I’m not leaving without him,” John screamed as he slapped Isaac hands away from Hope’s bridle.

Isaac let John take the horse as he made soothing sounds to John and his agitated horse, “John, I can try and transmute the horse, but there is no guarantee he will transfer. I have never tried to transfer an animal before; I’m not sure how to go about it.”

John’s pale face seemed to glow in the moonlight, he looked fierce and determined as he said, “Try, because I’m not leaving without him.”  

They all stood in the circle once more and Sherlock felt a pang of jealously when John genuinely smiled as he patted the horse’s neck.

“There is a transfer point not too far from Mycroft’s estate, that is where I will send you,” Isaac said as his eyes began to glow. Sherlock stared into their depths and then everything blurred out of focus.