If You Love Me, Let Me Go

Chapter 12: Alone Together

"NO NO NO! He's lost so much blood. They've taken him down to surgery now. How could I even let this happen. I promised I'd look after him."

He paled, his heart was racing. He didn't understand, as if his brain short-circuited and needed to be rebooted. Around him, everything was in fast-forward while he was motionless in the middle of it all. How was he going to be able to look his brother in the eyes?

12 hours earlier

Waking up in Sherlock's arms was still the most surreal yet beautiful start to John's morning. His heart seemed to pound faster with every look, every kiss. Being with him made John feel safe. It was like sitting in a car listening to the pouring rain and suddenly going under a bridge. During that moment, the rain stops and the world is peaceful, almost completely silent. Then before you know it, you're back in the real world, and the rain is falling harder than it did the first time.

Sherlock was his bridge.

John looked so deeply into his eyes that he could almost see their future together. It made him feel safe and protected. The kiss was gentle, but captivating, a mixture of sweet candy and salty ocean water. Their mesmerised lips pressed together time after time, and their ragged breathing and dancing tongues was almost like bringing a fiery heat to the cold ocean air. With just the two of them there, the rest of the world seemed to disappear. Just for a moment, but it was enough.

Sherlock often walked around the flat in nothing but his white bed sheet. Even before himself and John became an item, he didn't have any shame. He casually strolled into the living room to find John reading the paper.

"Technically, I don't need to walk around with anything on. It's not like anybody would disturb us." He said mischievously.

"Urm.." John's eyes widened as he nodded towards the figure who was standing by the door.

"Lestrade! Oh, for gods sake. What are you doing here?" Sherlock snapped, looking back at John as if to say that he should have warned him.

Lestrade glanced at John before the pair burst out with laughter.

"I'm sorry. I'll definitely remember to knock next time. Actually, I need to speak to you about something that was sent to us at the station earlier this morning."

"I'll be right with you!" Sherlock shouted from the bedroom. He reappeared wearing an ocean blue, cotton shirt and his casual black work trousers.

They all took a seat and Lestrade handed over an old, unused mobile phone. Sherlock inspected the object with great determination to deduce something other than the fact that Leatrade hadn't gotten anywhere with it. The phone was roughly three years old, inexpensive, due to the scratches and scuffed up edges. It switched on easily and Sherlock was able to view the only message on the device due to the lack of a password.
He looked back up at John and then over to Lestarde.

"And this was left for me?" Sherlock questioned.

Lestrade nodded his head to confirm.

John reached out his hand and took the phone from Sherlock. The unknown number had instructed that Sherlock would need to meet him later on that night. There were no directions, no address, just a time.

"Do you think this is linked to the case we had last week?" Sherlock asked.

"Better. Molly actually suggested that this could even be the killer himself. Psychopaths do get incredibly bored after a while."

"They do that, don't they?" Sherlock had a huge grin on his face.

"Sherlock, you're not actually going to meet this person. You can't put yourself in danger like that. I won't let you." John interrupted.