Sherlock One-shots

Everyone Has Their Demons (Johnlock)

                                       Warning: Major Character Death

                                        A bit of Supernatural, not much.

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        John grunted slightly when something unexpectedly tackled him from behind. He collided with the ground painfully, winded. Whatever had tackled him rolled him onto his back, John finally able to get a good look at it. A normal looking man. Except he had solid black eyes. The man turned his eyes back to a normal green color, grinned, and straddled John, keeping him pressed into the ground.

        “Hey, John. Heard a lot about you and your boyfriend, Sherlock. Being a demon, usually you hear the rumors through the grapevine,” the demon grinned, owning a heavy American accent.

        The demon then began throwing punches, most of them colliding with John’s face painfully. John tried grabbing the demon’s arms to make him stop, but he only twisted John’s arms back around, pinning them to the ground.

        “Sherlock!” John howled, struggling to escape the demon’s unusually strong hold. A loud crashing sound came from off to the left as Sherlock ran in, holding John’s pistol. The demon saw Sherlock and got off of John, swiftly pulling him to his feet and wrapping his arm around his neck. The demon flashed his black eyes at Sherlock, who frowned.

        “Stop there, Sherlock, or I break his neck,” the demon threatened, pulling tighter around John’s neck. Sherlock stopped and eyed the demon.

        “Care to explain why?” Sherlock asked, seemingly unfazed by what was happening. John raised his hands and yanked on the demon’s arm, attempting to pry his arm off from around his neck. The demon smirked, both at Sherlock’s question and John’s weak attempt to escape.

        “Because you are useful to our side, Sherlock. Not John, though, and I won’t hesitate to kill him if you don’t comply,” the demon remarked darkly, lifting the shorter man onto the tips of his toes to where he struggled to breathe. Sherlock rolled his eyes and raised the gun, firing it right into the demon’s head. He winced and a small trickle of blood ran down his forehead, which he wiped away impatiently.

        “Ouch,” he mocked hurt, smiling at Sherlock. “Sorry, you’re gonna have to do better than that.”

        “Sherlock,” John choked out, unable to breathe properly, his air supply slowly getting cut off by the demon’s iron grip. The demon chuckled at John’s distress and tightened his hold a bit more, just so that John couldn’t breathe.

        “Come on, Sherlock. Choose, or he dies,” he growled, noticing John’s lips starting to tinge blue. Sherlock noticed as well. He cleared his throat, glaring at the demon.

        “Fine, I’ll go with you,” Sherlock sighed, already planning a way out of the deal. The demon smirked, still suffocating John.

        “Sorry, I don’t believe you,” he chuckled, John’s lips parted as he attempted desperately to suck in a breath of air. John felt unconsciousness beginning to wash over him and started seeing black dots across his vision. He let out a ragged breath of air and stared at Sherlock, finally falling unconscious, the demon still strangling him. Sherlock stiffened.

        “What’s wrong, Sherlock? Don’t want your boyfriend to die, hm?” the demon taunted, smirking as he held up John’s deadweight. Sherlock scowled when, suddenly, two men stepped out of the darkness behind the demon and the taller one whipped out a knife, stabbing him in the back. The demon's eyes went huge and a bright yellow crackle of electricty jolted through his body. He crumpled to the floor, pulling an unconscious John down with him.

        Sherlock pocketed the gun and rushed over to John, pulling the demon’s unmoving away from him. Ignoring the two men, Sherlock placed two fingers on John’s wrist, checking his pulse and frowning when he didn’t feel anything. He readjusted his fingers, pressing them into his wrist again, rechecking. Still nothing. The men that killed the demon watched silently, pity written on their faces. Sherlock continued ignoring them, focused solely on John. He removed his hand from John’s wrist and raised it to his mouth, feeling for an exhale. None. Sherlock shook his friend’s shoulders.

        “John?”