My Doctor, Watson

Chapter III

John woke up when the blinding sunlight seeped through the curtains of his bedroom. He cracked his eyelids open and saw a dark figure on his bed, just sitting there. Not laying, not doing anything, just watching as if John was a pathogen being studied by a chemist. Or in this case, severed hands being observed by a sociopath.

Sherlock.

Startled, he jerked his eyes open and propped up against his bed on his elbows. With a yawn, he said "Apparently it's not the sun's light waves that's casting the shadow."

"Light doesn't travel in waves. It actually travels in both wave and particle. I am not, however, big on physical science." Sherlock responded.

"Why earth are you on my bed, Sherlock?" John responded.

Sherlock considered his question for a moment and then got up. He was wearing a tux. Lord knows why. It had to be about 6 in the morning.

"I couldn't sleep" Sherlock answered about 15 minutes after the question was proposed. John walked into the kitchen and made them both tea. He knew Sherlock would never drink it, though. He would just let it go cold, like always.

John set the two mugs down when they were done and then went back in the kitchen. He came back with a few biscuits and a smile on his face. He gave Sherlock's breakfast to him. That smile faded when John realized Sherlock wasn't eating again.

"Why are you ignoring breakfast?" John asked, trying to be patient. He wasn't ready for this cycle again. Sleepless nights, meals skipped, spirits broken.

"Why do I do anything?" Sherlock responded.

"I can't help you with that question. Please, Sherlock, eat. For me."

"Why does it matter?" Sherlock asked. He may have vast knowledge extending well beyond average, but when it came to human interaction, he was flawed. That would be the only thing that would ever kill Sherlock Holmes.

"Because, I- I care about you, 'tis all." John responded, surprised that that came out of his mouth. ".. I don't want to see you upset. I- people need you. I'm your friend, I think."

"Hmm.." Sherlock said, considering this. "Define friend. Friendship is an abstract concept that people claim they have, although they normally use it for things such as pride or-" Sherlock rattled on, but his speech was cut short when his phone went off. He reached out to grab it before John could. John got the sense that he was keeping something from him.

"Pride. You would know about that." John mumbled under his breath.

Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows and stared at the screen of his cell for awhile. At last, he reacted. He took in a sharp breathe and stood up.

John walked over to the door, leaning against the door frame, just to avoid any sudden outbursts Sherlock would have. Sherlock walked over towards him, his eyes calculating and cold, and then leaned very close to John, a few inches away from his mouth. He then reached behind John and grabbed his black trench coat. He raced down the stairs, his long and slender legs moving in a rapid motion. At the downstairs door, he stopped and looked at John.

"Are you coming, or what?" Sherlock asked.

John hadn't even realized he'd been frozen there. Melted in the wall. He nodded down in agreement and then followed down the steps.

They ran and flagged down a cab. Sherlock fixed his scarf while getting into the car. He didn't even bother holding the door open for John this time. It must've just been a one time thing.

"Do you mind telling me where we're going?" John asked.

"East." Sherlock responded. And that was the last thing John heard Sherlock say for awhile, when the radio suddenly changed. What used to be The Beatles, was a familiar man's voice. It called his name, but didn't say anything else. It was Moriarty. The cab driver jolted the car and tried to change the channel, but the knob was broken.

"Sherlock, what-"

"EAST." He yelled. Sherlock's features were grim and cold. Colder than normal.

After awhile, Sherlock just snapped and literally yanked the radio out of the cab. John was going to reprimand him, but it wouldn't do any use. Sherlock chucked it out of the window and hit a pedestrian walking by.

Sherlock's heart was lead. It was heavy and dark. It weighed at the bottom of his stomach. He liked to tell himself that his heart wasn't functional, and that he operated off of his brain. But if his heart wasn't functional, why was he about to do what he was about to do? He knew he was human. Admittedly less than others. He claims he has no feelings, but that wasn't true, was it?

Sherlock and John both sat there in the eery silence, letting the fear wash over them. They both had constant thoughts rally in their head. Were they both in trouble? Were they going to admit what was happening?

"THERE!" Sherlock yelled at the cab driver. The cab came to a sudden stop, and John flew forward. He would've flown out the window, had it not been for two long arms that suddenly wrapped themselves around him to prevent him from getting hurt. He looked at Sherlock and stared at him, his lips parted.

"Thanks.." John muttered. He received a curious glance from Sherlock in returned and they untangled themselves and left the car.

"That'll be 40 pounds for the stereo, mate!" The driver called as John slammed the door.

John could tell Sherlock has gotten increasingly frustrated over the course of time since getting the text, so he asked the question that had been haunting him the whole time.

"Sherlock," John asked warily, cautious of trying not to offend him, "what did that text you got say? The one back at the flat?"

Sherlock looked up at the abandoned warehouse they had stopped in front of. It's walls covered with rust and grime. John wondered why this was the destination they had to go to. Why couldn't Sherlock and Moriarty meet up in a five star hotel or something?

Sherlock took awhile to respond, he stood there, staring as if his mind contained a million words and "John" was not one of them. His hair rustled in the wind. The pale colors around him made his trench coat far from obsolete.

Just when John began to think Sherlock had become a statue, Sherlock looked over at John and took a deep breathe, putting his hands in his pockets.

"John Watson is definitely in danger." he replied at last.

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AN: Thank you so much to those that keep reading. I'm sorry it took so long to update this chapter, I have something big planned and I was nervous so I sort of avoided it. Please share to anyone you think would like to read. Don't forget to comment/ favorite/ etc. No pressure. Love you guys. Thanks!