Fic: Something Remembered, part 6 - 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
Estram looked John up and down for a long moment before his lips curled up in a small smile. "Ah, yes. Your doctor friend." He reached out to shake John's hand, fingers brushing against the bandages on John's wrist. "It is good to know that someone's keeping an eye on Sherlock. Mycroft tries, but he has so many other things to keep him occupied and Sherlock's become quite adept at evading his surveillance."
Sherlock seemed torn between looking insulted at the insinuation that he needed a keeper and smug at the acknowledgement that he could outmaneuver Mycroft. For his part, John fought the urge to roll his eyes. "I enjoy working with Sherlock, Mr. Holmes."
"I insist you call me Estram, John." The elder Holmes still had hold of John's hand, turning it so that he could study the bandages on John's wrist before glancing up at the one on the side of his neck. Then he turned back to Sherlock, a disappointed expression on his face. "You really should take better care of your friend, Sherlock. It's not every day that you find such an interesting doctor as a companion."
Sherlock sighed, shoulders hunching slightly. "Yes, Father. This wasn't my fault, though. John's the one who was kidnapped; I rescued him."
Estram arched an eyebrow as he stared at Sherlock. "Do not talk back to me, young man." He waited for Sherlock to lower his eyes, then nodded. "We've put John in the room next to your old room. Why don't you show him where it is, let him freshen up from the trip?"
Sherlock nodded stiffly and pushed past his father, still holding his and John's bags. John followed him inside, glancing back at Estram over his shoulder just before they turned the corner towards the stairs. The older man had still been standing in the open doorway, spine ramrod straight and hands tightly clasped behind his back.
John waited until they were in the guest room and Sherlock had dropped the bags to say anything. "Sherlock, your father...?"
Sherlock huffed through his nose and shook his head. "I appreciate your concern, John, but it's unwarranted. Father is a very proud, controlled man and he often finds my behavior incredibly annoying, but he has never acted unseemly towards me."
"And Mycroft?"
"Mycroft and Father have always gotten along remarkably well, especially since Mycroft has gotten into his secret government work." Sherlock flopped onto the bed, stretching his arms over his head. "Sometimes I think that Father is using Mycroft to take over the country."
John twitched, something about Sherlock's theory sparking a hint of unease in the back of his brain. Then something occurred to him and he dropped onto the bed next to Sherlock. "You annoy your father on purpose, don't you? Just so he doesn't try to pull you into whatever you think he might be doing with Mycroft."
Sherlock chuckled, glancing over at John with pride. "Very good, John. There's hope for you yet."
John elbowed Sherlock in the side, then yawned. "Sorry."
"Don't be stupid, John. You just got out of the hospital after being kidnapped." Sherlock rolled over so he was facing John, eyes serious. "There won't be a formal meal tonight since Mummy's still down in the lab, and will probably be there all night. You won't be missing anything if you take a nap, and no one will be offended." His lips suddenly curled up in a smile. "Besides which, Father did tell me to take better care of you."
John snorted, but closed his eyes anyway. He was tired, and with Sherlock's warm presence against his side he was quickly relaxing. And before he knew it, he was slipping into sleep.
* * *
Even after John fell asleep Sherlock stayed next to him on the bed. It wasn't something he was comfortable admitting, but he'd been terrified during John's kidnapping and John's odd reaction afterward certainly hadn't helped. So until he was certain that John was fine and nothing else was going to happen, he wasn't going to let the other man out of his sight.
John hadn't even been asleep for an hour when he suddenly stiffened, muscles tense and breathing labored. When John's lips started moving Sherlock leaned over him, propping himself up with one arm while he tried to read John's lips. He couldn't quite manage it, and he was about to slip off the bed to get a better angle when John stopped mouthing words and started to speak.
"It was so cold. I couldn't breathe. I'm sorry."
There were odd pauses in between each phrase, as if John was waiting for the other side of a conversation.
"Cast him out. Into the sun. And the night. Do it. Do it now."
Sherlock frowned, absolutely no idea what John could possibly mean. He intended to let the strange dream continue so that he could collect more data until he realized that tears were slowly leaking from John's closed eyes.
An instant later, he was reaching out to shake John's shoulder.
Next Part
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
Estram looked John up and down for a long moment before his lips curled up in a small smile. "Ah, yes. Your doctor friend." He reached out to shake John's hand, fingers brushing against the bandages on John's wrist. "It is good to know that someone's keeping an eye on Sherlock. Mycroft tries, but he has so many other things to keep him occupied and Sherlock's become quite adept at evading his surveillance."
Sherlock seemed torn between looking insulted at the insinuation that he needed a keeper and smug at the acknowledgement that he could outmaneuver Mycroft. For his part, John fought the urge to roll his eyes. "I enjoy working with Sherlock, Mr. Holmes."
"I insist you call me Estram, John." The elder Holmes still had hold of John's hand, turning it so that he could study the bandages on John's wrist before glancing up at the one on the side of his neck. Then he turned back to Sherlock, a disappointed expression on his face. "You really should take better care of your friend, Sherlock. It's not every day that you find such an interesting doctor as a companion."
Sherlock sighed, shoulders hunching slightly. "Yes, Father. This wasn't my fault, though. John's the one who was kidnapped; I rescued him."
Estram arched an eyebrow as he stared at Sherlock. "Do not talk back to me, young man." He waited for Sherlock to lower his eyes, then nodded. "We've put John in the room next to your old room. Why don't you show him where it is, let him freshen up from the trip?"
Sherlock nodded stiffly and pushed past his father, still holding his and John's bags. John followed him inside, glancing back at Estram over his shoulder just before they turned the corner towards the stairs. The older man had still been standing in the open doorway, spine ramrod straight and hands tightly clasped behind his back.
John waited until they were in the guest room and Sherlock had dropped the bags to say anything. "Sherlock, your father...?"
Sherlock huffed through his nose and shook his head. "I appreciate your concern, John, but it's unwarranted. Father is a very proud, controlled man and he often finds my behavior incredibly annoying, but he has never acted unseemly towards me."
"And Mycroft?"
"Mycroft and Father have always gotten along remarkably well, especially since Mycroft has gotten into his secret government work." Sherlock flopped onto the bed, stretching his arms over his head. "Sometimes I think that Father is using Mycroft to take over the country."
John twitched, something about Sherlock's theory sparking a hint of unease in the back of his brain. Then something occurred to him and he dropped onto the bed next to Sherlock. "You annoy your father on purpose, don't you? Just so he doesn't try to pull you into whatever you think he might be doing with Mycroft."
Sherlock chuckled, glancing over at John with pride. "Very good, John. There's hope for you yet."
John elbowed Sherlock in the side, then yawned. "Sorry."
"Don't be stupid, John. You just got out of the hospital after being kidnapped." Sherlock rolled over so he was facing John, eyes serious. "There won't be a formal meal tonight since Mummy's still down in the lab, and will probably be there all night. You won't be missing anything if you take a nap, and no one will be offended." His lips suddenly curled up in a smile. "Besides which, Father did tell me to take better care of you."
John snorted, but closed his eyes anyway. He was tired, and with Sherlock's warm presence against his side he was quickly relaxing. And before he knew it, he was slipping into sleep.
* * *
Even after John fell asleep Sherlock stayed next to him on the bed. It wasn't something he was comfortable admitting, but he'd been terrified during John's kidnapping and John's odd reaction afterward certainly hadn't helped. So until he was certain that John was fine and nothing else was going to happen, he wasn't going to let the other man out of his sight.
John hadn't even been asleep for an hour when he suddenly stiffened, muscles tense and breathing labored. When John's lips started moving Sherlock leaned over him, propping himself up with one arm while he tried to read John's lips. He couldn't quite manage it, and he was about to slip off the bed to get a better angle when John stopped mouthing words and started to speak.
"It was so cold. I couldn't breathe. I'm sorry."
There were odd pauses in between each phrase, as if John was waiting for the other side of a conversation.
"Cast him out. Into the sun. And the night. Do it. Do it now."
Sherlock frowned, absolutely no idea what John could possibly mean. He intended to let the strange dream continue so that he could collect more data until he realized that tears were slowly leaking from John's closed eyes.
An instant later, he was reaching out to shake John's shoulder.
Next Part