Fic: Something Remembered, part 7 - Sherlock/Doctor Who
Title: Something Remembered
Fandom: Sherlock/Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: none
Spoilers: Through The Great Game for Sherlock and The Big Bang for Doctor Who
Disclaimer: Do I look like I own any of this? Because, sadly, I don't.
Warnings: violence
Summary: When John is kidnapped, he starts to remember something.
Author's Notes: written for the sherlockbbc-fic kink meme. Also, my first attempt at writing for Sherlock.
Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six
John jerked awake, one arm flailing about and nearly hitting Sherlock in the face. His breathing was ragged and he could feel the lingering dampness on his cheeks, though he had no idea why he might have been crying. His head was pounding again, and Sherlock was staring at him from just a bit too close. “What are you doing, Sherlock?”
“Waking you up. You looked…uncomfortable.” Sherlock grimaced, then flopped dramatically onto his back. “So, what was the nightmare about anyway?”
Sighing, John pushed himself up until he was sitting up with his back braced against the headboard. “I have no idea. I don't remember dreaming at all, and trying to remember is giving me a headache.”
Sherlock came perliously close to pouting, but seemed willing to let the questioning go for the moment. "You've been asleep for almost an hour."
John frowned, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly. "That long? I feel like I just fell asleep." A moment later he glanced over at Sherlock, frown deepening. "You've been in here for an hour watching me sleep?"
"I was simply observing you to insure that your abduction hadn't adversely affected your sleep."
"Ah, of course." John shook his head fondly at the Sherlock-speak for 'I was worried about you and didn't want to leave you alone.' Then something suddenly occurred to him and he frowned again. "Speaking of that, Sherlock, what happened to the men who grabbed me? I don't think you mentioned that earlier."
Sherlock's smile could only be described as bloodthirsty. "They were all alive, if not exactly in one piece when I texted Lestrade and told him where to find them. And I doubt he was any gentler than he had to be with them as he's rather fond of you."
John sighed quietly in relief. He didn't particularly care what happened to his kidnappers, but he didn't want Sherlock killing for him. It just didn't feel right somehow.
Suddenly Sherlock virtually leaped off the bed, smile turning bright and eager. "Come along, John. Since you don't plan on attempting to sleep anymore at the moment, you can come meet Mummy."
"I thought you said your mother would be in the lab for the rest of the night." He didn't even bother asking how Sherlock had figured out that he didn't want to to go back to sleep.
Sherlock just grinned, reaching out to grab John's arm and pull him off the bed. "She won't mind if I interrupt, and she's wanted to meet you for quite a while now."
With a mental shrug, John allowed himself to be dragged along in Sherlock's wake. The lab was apparently in the basement, and the door was only a few feet down the hallway from the room Sherlock had pointed out as his.
"When I was young, whenever I couldn't sleep Mummy would take me down to the lab and let me help her with her experiments. Even at age six she said I was a better lab assistant than people five times my age."
John couldn't help but smile at the pride that almost oozed from Sherlock's voice. It was obvious even to John that Mummy's opinion mattered to Sherlock much more than his father's did.
Sherlock clattered down the basement stairs, one hand still gripping John's arm. He stopped once they reached the bottom, then carefully poked his head around the corner. "Mummy? Is it safe to bring John in?"
There was the sound of something heavy and glass being placed on a table, and then a woman's voice. "Yes, Sherlock. I've already finished with the neurotoxins for the night."
John blinked as he was pulled down the final step and around the corner. Mummy was a tall, thin woman with dark hair and almost frighteningly intelligent blue eyes which were currently staring at him appraisingly from behind a pair of safely goggles. He almost unconsciously straightened his back, refusing to be the first to look away.
After a long moment she smiled at him, suddenly looking far less threatening. She pulled off the goggles, dropping them on the nearest lab table before pulling off her gloves. "So, you're my Sherlock's doctor friend. I'm Rani Holmes, and I think I'm going to like you."
Part Eight
Fandom: Sherlock/Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: none
Spoilers: Through The Great Game for Sherlock and The Big Bang for Doctor Who
Disclaimer: Do I look like I own any of this? Because, sadly, I don't.
Warnings: violence
Summary: When John is kidnapped, he starts to remember something.
Author's Notes: written for the sherlockbbc-fic kink meme. Also, my first attempt at writing for Sherlock.
Previous Parts: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six
John jerked awake, one arm flailing about and nearly hitting Sherlock in the face. His breathing was ragged and he could feel the lingering dampness on his cheeks, though he had no idea why he might have been crying. His head was pounding again, and Sherlock was staring at him from just a bit too close. “What are you doing, Sherlock?”
“Waking you up. You looked…uncomfortable.” Sherlock grimaced, then flopped dramatically onto his back. “So, what was the nightmare about anyway?”
Sighing, John pushed himself up until he was sitting up with his back braced against the headboard. “I have no idea. I don't remember dreaming at all, and trying to remember is giving me a headache.”
Sherlock came perliously close to pouting, but seemed willing to let the questioning go for the moment. "You've been asleep for almost an hour."
John frowned, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly. "That long? I feel like I just fell asleep." A moment later he glanced over at Sherlock, frown deepening. "You've been in here for an hour watching me sleep?"
"I was simply observing you to insure that your abduction hadn't adversely affected your sleep."
"Ah, of course." John shook his head fondly at the Sherlock-speak for 'I was worried about you and didn't want to leave you alone.' Then something suddenly occurred to him and he frowned again. "Speaking of that, Sherlock, what happened to the men who grabbed me? I don't think you mentioned that earlier."
Sherlock's smile could only be described as bloodthirsty. "They were all alive, if not exactly in one piece when I texted Lestrade and told him where to find them. And I doubt he was any gentler than he had to be with them as he's rather fond of you."
John sighed quietly in relief. He didn't particularly care what happened to his kidnappers, but he didn't want Sherlock killing for him. It just didn't feel right somehow.
Suddenly Sherlock virtually leaped off the bed, smile turning bright and eager. "Come along, John. Since you don't plan on attempting to sleep anymore at the moment, you can come meet Mummy."
"I thought you said your mother would be in the lab for the rest of the night." He didn't even bother asking how Sherlock had figured out that he didn't want to to go back to sleep.
Sherlock just grinned, reaching out to grab John's arm and pull him off the bed. "She won't mind if I interrupt, and she's wanted to meet you for quite a while now."
With a mental shrug, John allowed himself to be dragged along in Sherlock's wake. The lab was apparently in the basement, and the door was only a few feet down the hallway from the room Sherlock had pointed out as his.
"When I was young, whenever I couldn't sleep Mummy would take me down to the lab and let me help her with her experiments. Even at age six she said I was a better lab assistant than people five times my age."
John couldn't help but smile at the pride that almost oozed from Sherlock's voice. It was obvious even to John that Mummy's opinion mattered to Sherlock much more than his father's did.
Sherlock clattered down the basement stairs, one hand still gripping John's arm. He stopped once they reached the bottom, then carefully poked his head around the corner. "Mummy? Is it safe to bring John in?"
There was the sound of something heavy and glass being placed on a table, and then a woman's voice. "Yes, Sherlock. I've already finished with the neurotoxins for the night."
John blinked as he was pulled down the final step and around the corner. Mummy was a tall, thin woman with dark hair and almost frighteningly intelligent blue eyes which were currently staring at him appraisingly from behind a pair of safely goggles. He almost unconsciously straightened his back, refusing to be the first to look away.
After a long moment she smiled at him, suddenly looking far less threatening. She pulled off the goggles, dropping them on the nearest lab table before pulling off her gloves. "So, you're my Sherlock's doctor friend. I'm Rani Holmes, and I think I'm going to like you."
Part Eight