The Story of Sherlock and John

12:The Big Red Button

Please comment your thoughts on my story so far and vote if you like it! -Angela :)

"SHERLOCK!!!! CAN YOU HEAR ME???" John shouted, with all his might. But the Sherlock on screen just kept staring at him, well the camera."I'M IN HERE!!" He tried making some noise by punching the walls around him. "Ugh!" He gave up. It wasn't going to work. Damn it.

--Back to Sherlock--

"Moriarty, tell me the real reason we're playing this..game of yours" Sherlock kept his eye on the small point on the radio.

"For fun. Reducing boredom and as I said, I wanted to see if I could beat you, oh and I did say I wanted nothing. You can call it...an experiment. But I see this game isn't going too well, should I spice it up? Make it more..." Moriarty took a remote out of his pocket, "exciting..?"

Sherlock looked over at what Moriarty took out, "What's the remote for?"

"If I press this..big red button, John will die. Oh yes. And you'll never find him. Well, we'll see about that."

"What do I have to do to stop you, then?" asked Sherlock, panicking.

"A game of chess, Mr Sherlock Holmes. But not yet so, good bye!"

Sherlock was confused. Goodbye? What did he mean? Moriarty saw that Sherlock had not moved. "Well, what are you doing? I dismissed you. Go home, Sherlock. Go home and prepare for the real game." Moriarty spoke with his typical mocking voice. As he left the room, he patted Sherlock on the shoulder. "Good luck because you'll be playing for John's life."

--JOHN'S POV--

John was bitterly disappointed when he saw Sherlock leave the room. He hadn't been smart enough to realize John was in here, where did his deduction skills go? Anger mingled with his many feelings he had at the moment; disappointment, panic, hopeless, sad, tired and....well, hungry. A daunting thought came to him, what if Sherlock never finds him? John would be stuck, in here, in this...whatever it is forever. He tried to push the though away, but it didn't work. He thought about the things he'll never be able to see; the blue sky, clouds, grass, oh the taxi's, Harry, Mrs Hudson, 221B.....and Sherlock, that lunatic. John chuckled to himself, a sad chuckle. He thought about his life, as a teenage boy he dreamt that when he grew up, he'll be someone successful. A good doctor for instance. Not some unemployed hopeless man, that'll die in a cupboard..thing.. He tried to sit down in the confined place, it was partly succesful. John thought about more things, which resulted in tears rolling down his face. Then he thought about Sherlock and he felt anger. If he had never met this weird man, he'll never be where he is now. He'll have a job. A wife, maybe. A family...possibly too. Money. His own house. So many things but not running around all the time solving murder cases or texting criminals. But then again, it was Sherlock who brought excitment back to his life..after what happened in Afghanistan, it fixed psychosomatic limp. He became happy. "Oh Sherlock, you weird, weird, person."

With his thoughts on the weird man, he drifted off to sleep.

--SHERLOCK's POV AT 221B FLAT--

"Chess, chess, chess. UGH!"

Sherlock flung a pillow across the room in anger. Chess?! He hadn't played that since, what, 20 years ago, because he thought it was boring since he always won his games. But now, his ability has dropped because he doesn't even know how many squares on a chess board, which colour starts first and some important techniques he learnt from all his past experience. He deleted it from his brain because he thought it was unimportant. Now, he deeply regrets it. Deeply. Emphasis on that word.

He was about to fling his skull when Mrs Hudson walked in. "Sherlock! What in the God's name are you doing? Are you sure you want to throw that skull? Something wrong, dear? Bad case?"

"Chess, Mrs Hudson, chess. Chess and the big red button."

"What are you blabbering on about? Hey, Sherlock, your fridge is empty...except for those.." she lifts a bag out of the fridge, "are these..mice tails?-"

"Experiment."

"Oh, you and your experiments.  What good have they done to the world... Actually, back to your empty fridge, hasn't John done the groceries? Where's John anyway? I haven't seen him all day." Mrs Hudson knocked on John's bedroom door, "John?"

"Mrs Hudson, he's not here."

She turned around and looked at the Sherlock (who's acting very weirdly, well, doesn't he always act weird? But, there's just something different today. A sad weird.) Mrs Hudson motherly instincts told her something was wrong. "Where is he then?"

"I don't know." said the great detective, he sat back down on his arm chair and began grabbing his fluff of hair in frustration. Mrs Hudson walked over to him and patted his shoulder, "Dear, dear. Tell me what's going on?"

--John's POV--

John jerked awake. For a second he didn't know where he was, then it all came back to him. Right, in the cupboard of doom. His back was aching terribly from the lack of space given for him to stretch.  His eyes felt swollen, like as if he's been crying in his sleep. Then he remembered, he was dreaming. It was a sad dream, very, very sad.

"I woke up with a thundering headache and the weather outside seemed to have synced with me. It was pouring with rain. I hopped out of bed and started to walk towards the kitchen, where I'll make a cuppa. I do this everyday. But-To my surprise, tea waas already made ready for me. Along with toast and butter. Immediately, my headache cleared. It stopped raining too. Outside, the sun shined brightly on the wet roads."Good morning John. Slept well?"  That familiar voice. I turned around, there standing beside the sink washing his own dishes...was Sherlock Holmes."Yo-You did this?" I pointed down at my brillaintly made breakfast.

"Yes." he answered, oh he seemed so proud of himself.

Without another word, I sat down, sipped my tea and took a bite of the toast. It warmed me right up.

When I had finished my breakfast,  Sherlock took my dishes away and washed those too. Sherlock's very out of character today. So I asked, "Sherlock?""Hmm?" he answered.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Felt like it. Oh yes, John, I have a case right now, I have to go bye."

Well that was sudden?

"Okay, Sherlock, see you soon?"

"Hopefully."

He turned and walked out of the flat. I felt like I was drowning in a pool of cold fear, I don't know why. It felt like his happy day just had a plot twist. It started raining again. The skies are no longer blue, it's grey. The sun is no longer shining, its hidden. I realise something,

That was the last time I ever saw him.

I waited all day for him. No, all week. A whole month. No, more than that.

There was never any news or sighting of Sherlock. That stupid man, should have told me to come with him..

Now I'm sitting in this empty flat, tears are rolling out of my eyes.

"Sherlock..." and I woke up."

--SHERLOCK's POV--

Sherlock looked into Mrs Hudson's sad questioning big eyes.

"Moriarty...he's got..." he couldn't finish his sentence.

"John?" Mrs Hudson finished it off for him.