Johnlock One-shots

220.Human Error

HEAR THAT? IT'S THE SOUND OF CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED TWENTY ONE COMING UP! 221! 221!
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“So,” the criminal’s cold, whisper of a voice echoed through the damp hallways of the abandoned house. “This is where it all comes to an end, Sherlock Holmes.” He finished, stepping closer to the detective and his doctor friend that always came along for the ride.

“This isn't the end.” John said. “There's never an end.”

“Oh, this one is.” The criminal held up the gun to John's chest. “For you. He stays alive, for awhile longer, at least.”

John held up his hands and stepped back, looking up at Sherlock then back at the gun barrel. “We'll always find a way out.” He said bravely.

“Not this time.” The criminal laughed and got ready to pull the trigger.

He did, and almost immediately, Sherlock jumped in front of John and blocked it. The bullet hit through his chest and got lodged there. He only thought of how he was a successful human shield as he fell down to the floor.

“No, no, no!” The criminal put his gun away and pulled at his hair. “I wasn't supposed to kill him!”

John took off Sherlock's scarf and pressed it over his wound. “Why?” He asked, pressing down against the wound. Sherlock coughed and turned his head the other way. John cupped his cheek and made him look, their eyes making contact. “Sherlock, why?! Why the bloody hell would you do that?!”

Sherlock looked into his eyes and reached up. He set his hand on the side of John's face and smiled a little, John was so stupid. He probably knew deep down what it was.

“Human error…” Sherlock said, moving a little closer to John.

Was that a confession? That was a confession. He just confessed. There's always been one thing he said was human error no matter what; love. He thought a lot of thing we're human error, but always love.

“Just hang on in there, Sherlock!” By that time the criminal that shot the gun was gone, they were alone.

John called an ambulance, who got there immediately, and Sherlock was brought to the hospital. He almost died, but was able to get a grip of himself and come back.

As soon as he could, John went to Sherlock's room. He sat down on the bed, then laid down, staring at Sherlock's face. He awkwardly set one of his arms over Sherlock's stomach and whispered oh so softly, “I love you too.”

“Good.” Sherlock said.

John flinched. “I thought you were sleeping--”

Sherlock turned over onto his side, leaning in and kissing John's lips. John was surprised for a moment, but quickly kissed back, smiling. After a few moments, Sherlock rolled onto his back and closed his eyes.

“I've been dreaming of doing that since I noticed how I felt about you.” He set a hand on his chest, over his heart. He could feel the rapid beating, the feeling of his heart beating so fast he almost thought it would escape his chest.

“Me too.” John admitted, kissing his cheek. Sherlock reached over and took John's hand, holding it and squeezing it softly.

“Don't leave. I'm going to fall asl…” Sherlock's sentence trailed off as he lost consciousness. John smiled and leant against Sherlock.

“Okay, Sherlock. I won’t leave.”