Four-Letter Defect

Nightmares

Adrenaline was pumping through Sherlock's veins as he sprinted through the forest. His lungs were on fire and he was almost certain he sprained his ankle during the chase. None of that mattered though, or at least not as much as what, or rather who, he is running for.

John.

They've taken him... tied his hands together behind his back and put a gag in his mouth so he can't scream for help. They leave the field and somehow end up on a busy street, and Sherlock felt his stomach lurch at the sight of John being thrown into the back of a van with his eyes wide and pleading for Sherlock to help him.

He had to save him. His legs were moving before he even told them to and he sprinted towards an open cab door. He shoved someone out of the way and climbed in, throwing some money at the cabbie and telling him to "follow that black van!"

Pleased with the large sum of money that had been thrown at him, the cabbie complied and tires screeched as he weaved through traffic. Sherlock spent less than a minute in the back of that taxicab, but it felt like an eternity by the time the van pulled onto a side road. Sherlock's cab followed and soon the two cars were speeding down a dirt road towards an unknown destination. Sherlock's eyes hadn't left the van since he climbed into the cab. He saw the back door open and just as he yelled for the cabbie to stop someone is thrown into the road. Someone with light hair, who has their hands tied together.

"John!" Sherlock shouted, opening the cab door and tumbling out onto the road. Luckily, the cab driver swerved just in time, and John is unharmed. Sherlock crouched over him, vision now blurred with hot tears and hands shaking violently.

John's eyes were closed, and he wasn't breathing.

"John!" Sherlock shouted before he placed an ear to John's chest to listen for a heartbeat. He placed two fingers just below John's jaw, and felt nothing. He frantically tried to give him CPR, pressing down on John's chest several times before he placed his mouth over his. This might be his first and last chance to do this, to feel John's lips against his own. The thought of it is enough to break his heart.

Sherlock felt a pair of hands on him, and immediately shook them off. The hands persisted, grabbing his shoulders and pinning him to the ground, and for the first time in his life, Sherlock has lost control of his emotions. He is terrified, he is indignant, he is devastated; He is feeling so many emotions he cannot keep track of them all, nor does he want to. He takes one last longing look at John's lifeless form.

"Sherlock, are you alright?"

At the sound of John's voice, Sherlock's eyes flew open and he found himself staring into the kind blue eyes of none other than John Watson, who Sherlock could've sworn was dead just moments ago.

It had only been a dream. Sherlock let out a sigh and felt his entire body relax.

"Oh, John," he said, "thank God." Sherlock almost added 'you're alive' at the end of his sentence, but stopped himself. It would only warrant questions from John that Sherlock didn't feel like answering.

"What is it Sherlock?" The concern in John's voice was heartwarming, and it only added to the pain Sherlock already felt at believing he had lost John forever. He sat up straight and covered his face with his hands so John wouldn't see the tears that were beginning to form and threatening to spill over his eyelids. He took a moment to breathe and collect himself, then looked down at John, who was kneeling before him on the floor, staring at him as if he were afraid Sherlock would explode any minute. "Are you alright Sherlock?" he asked, his voice as gentle as ever, perhaps even more so. Sherlock faked a yawn and nodded, hoping that it would suffice as an answer to John's question, and prevent any more from being asked. He could tell by the look on John's face that he wanted to pry, but was trying to restrain himself.