A Study In Blink (A Wholock Crossover)

Chapter eleven

John sat with Gabriel until her family arrived, her husband, Frederic, was a tall and muscular man with thick blonde hair and soft grown eyes full of concern; the boy, Rupert, huddled at his father's back, clutching on to his shirt and occasionally stealing a glance at the frail old women on the hospital bed. The clock was striking eleven as Gabriel took her last breath, eyes still staring longingly at her husband and child, their faces seared in her dying heart.

John existed the room, feeling as if he was an intruder. Outside, he found Sherlock and Lestrade having an intensely one-sided argument.

It went a bit like this:

Lestrade: Sherlock, of all the times you came up with such farfetched theories and I believed you, time travel is completely beyond this scale. You know that this is impossible and not give me your usual when one has eliminated the impossible whatever remains is the truth or what not. Maybe this is all part of some conspiracy to confuse us or distract us, maybe Moriaty is behind it all again. 

Sherlock: *stares into space*

Lestrade: I mean there has been some strange things going on these days but suggesting that a woman who recently disappeared came back on the next day with all her life gone, that's just not done. 

Sherlock: *continues to stare*

Lestrade: All of those things, all of 'em happened on Christmas right? And it ain't even Christmas, so what'd you think that means? In the future every Christmas aliens come to town?

Sherlock: No, detective inspector, I think Christmas have come early.

*******

They went back to St. Engel's cemetery an hour later, due to Sherlock's curiosity. He didn't show it overtly but John could always tell, it all came down to his eyes, that tiny gleam of intense curiosity, like a kitten chasing a butterfly, Sherlock was chasing the truth.

The place was still as damp and deserted as John had last gone there, the only difference was that this time, god bless, was in well in the morning. He didn't like to admit it, but the haunting memory of the Hound of Baskerville was still edged pretty deep in his mind. Sure it had been an intriguing case for Sherlock, but the man was naturally attracted to dangerous things such as blood thirsty hounds growling in the darkness, or being trampled to death by an elephant in a room. 

John scanned the area, wishing that there weren't any more of those angels around. He had come to believe these mad stuff about time travel and statues which were actually aliens. You tend to open your eyes when you're flat mates with Sherlock Holmes. He heaved a small sigh of relief, no angels around.

"Alright, the plan is we split up. Lestrade, you head east, John you go west and we'll rendezvous in fifteen minutes at this spot. Find anything, call for the others, agreed?" Sherlock didn't wait for their answer, just headed off straight ahead.

"Wait!" Lestrade said, "what exactly are we looking for?"

"Angels," John murmured.

"What?"

"Angels," this time the words were loud and succinct, "we're on a hunt for angels."

Author's Notes:

Sorry I haven't updated in a while, and sorry this chapter is so short. Hopefully I will update once a week,  and if you've enjoyed reading this chapter, please press the star shaped button to show your support! Thank you!

~Emma