Sherlock: Sick and tired. 4 Of 6

Sherlock: Sick and Tired.

Chapter Four: Best Intentions.

Sherlock has been attached to his computer screen for the past two days; he has gotten better fever gone down and his throat better but still hurt him. I should have suspected one of two things, one I couldn't hold Sherlock back too long and the second that he was up to no good, no good at all. I should have suspected when he stopped pacing the floors or complaining, that something was off and when he started to mess around on his laptop for hours or check his phone every half hour. For some reason I ignored this and put it off as him trying to cope in indoor life while he got better, maybe Sherlock was right to be frustrated that people just don't think.

No I didn't question until I woke one morning tied to a chair facing Sherlock who was also tied to a bloody chair facing me. His head dipped swaying side to side; at least he wasn't dead, yet not until I got through with him. If we lived that long anyway, I looked around with hazy eyes we were still in our flat, 221 B Baker Street. If there was a third party around, I couldn't spot him anywhere.

"Sherlock?" I call for him in a low voice trying to wake him, "He won't wake easily, drugs in his veins." A voice says to me but I couldn't see any person, no one was around. I crane my neck behind me and all around but nothing.

"You can't see me unless I want you too," I roll my eyes in spite of the twinge of fear I felt boiling up in my gut.

"What are you then, the invisible man?" I say, "You shouldn't make fun of people dwarf," Yeah I thought, that one never gets old.

Sherlock is moving slowly, his head dipping then rising as if he were junkie. He was trying so hard to fight it, he was so strong.

"You should have told your skinny friend to leave me alone," the voices says low and in control of itself.

"Well I'm sure you're not very nice, you know considering that I'm tied to a bloody chair," I say looking around, we were in the middle of the room nothing close enough to us to get to even if I did I wasn't sure where the person was or what they could see.

"There is no point in fighting, there is no way out, you are going to die here John Watson." My eyes rest on Sherlock his head had rolled onto the back of the chair, his face towards the ceiling.

"John," His voice was rough and barely audible, "Good he will wake soon, and I think I will let you choose who dies." The voice seemed to drift around the room.

"What do you mean?" I ask confused, "You are the first to wake, you will choose who will die, you or Sherlock." The voiced was amused.

"How do I know if I choose you won't kill the other?"

"You don't, but I am a man of my word, whomever you choose to live will live and I will never come back. Like a ghost in the night."

"John," Sherlock blinks rapidly, trying so hard to focus, I wondered how we would get out of this. Is it possible to get out of this Sherlock?

"Sherlock, what did you get us into?" Sherlock blinks again his head hanging but he was looking at me, "Oh," He said and looked a bit sad.

"What did you do Sherlock?" I ask again, "Who is he?" Sherlock shakes head, "String of murders," Sherlock mutters.

"From the telly?" I asked and he nods, "Always in pairs, one dies other is left alive, he makes them choose." Sherlock blinks again rapidly, he was trying so hard. He was still in his pajamas and dressing gown, somehow that made me sad.

"You were working on the case the whole time?" I asked him and he looks to focus on me again, "Yes, Lestarde called, he-" Sherlock swallows, "I told him I had chicken pox couldn't leave the house but I would help," I frown.

"Honestly you couldn't just-" I stopped talking looking away from him, "John?" I don't look to him.

"Oh it seems I have caused a little domestic," The voice chuckles, "Well, it still stands none the less, John you will choose who lives and who dies."

I felt overwhelming sadness pulse through my veins, Sherlock or I was the question but it wasn't really. I already knew who I would choose without having to think about it, a choice I have been making since I met Sherlock. I was to protect him; if I could not do that what purpose did I really serve to him, to life.

"John, don't choose," Sherlock says to me and I look to him, he was calm too calm in this situation but he's been here before trapped with a murder. I wasn't used to it, I've shot a few people sure but I was never cornered with this ultimatum in my lap that was weighing me down in my seat.

"That is unwise advice, Mr. Holmes, if he doesn't choose you both die." My mouth gaps knowing that had to be one of his solutions but to hear it out loud made me scared.

Sherlock shakes his head watching me, blinking trying to beat the drugs in his system. I wondered what he put in Sherlock, I hoped it wasn't addictive.

"John, look at me don't you choose." Sherlock says struggling against his binds; I have forgotten I had them too.

"He won't kill us both; he is a creature prone to habit, always two victims and one survivor." Sherlock stares into my eyes.

"Without a survivor, this game means nothing to him," Sherlock sounded a bit pleading and I felt my emotions wanting to leave my body but I didn't want to disappoint Sherlock so I held it in.

"That is where you are wrong Mr. Holmes; I can be very flexible in times of need, which is how I survive." The voice drones in my ears, what if it was the last voice I heard, no I would hear Sherlock too. Would he be sad if I died, Sherlock tell me.

'Look at the facts,' Sherlock's voice rings in my brain, he was in my brain talking to me when I could just talk to him now, he was right here in front of me. I have seen troubles, enough for a lifetime, I've been in situations where I knew I was going to die back in the war but I never felt this messed up. It was Sherlock, he was here and the thought I might lose him, scared me to insanity.

"John, stay with me." Sherlock looked awake mostly but I could tell through the cover he was struggling.

"I'm here Sherlock, I'm always here." I say in a low voice, he opens his mouth to talk but the third voice in the room interrupts.

"I normally give you a minute to choose but I am feeling generous I will play a song and once the song goes off, well we will play musical chairs. One person will get a seat and the other will fall." I swallow and Sherlock's starts to look around him frantically.

"Understand the rules?" the third voice asks, "Good, once the song is over I need a name John or you both die."

The first strings of music poor out of nowhere.

It was logical that I would choose to save Sherlock right? I mean even if I didn't have this wired school boy crush on him, his life had more meaning then mine. He put criminals away so they couldn't hurt anyone. I don't care of his motives on doing so, he was a hero, and he saved people no matter his flaws. I was just an ex-army doctor; I was someone who could understand the significance of Sherlock's life.

The first lines of the song's lyrics poured out and I listened.

"I can't fight this feeling any longer and yet I'm still afraid to let it flow,
What started out as friendship has grown stronger,
I only wish I had the strength to let it show,"


Right it would be this song he chooses to play.

"John, we are not going to die, please do not choose." I look up at Sherlock, his wild curled covered head, his almond shaped blue eyes, and those pouted pale pink lips that pointed up at the top. It all drove me crazy, almost as much as his brain did.

"I know," I told him with a sad smile, maybe it was better this way, to at least I wouldn't have to be sad anymore. That was selfish, was it selfish?

I don't know.

"You two should start saying goodbye," The man said cutting into the music.


"I tell myself that I can't hold out forever I say there is no reason for my fear,
Cause I feel so secure when were together,
You give my life direction you make everything so clear,
And even as I wonder I'm keeping you in sight,"


"Sherlock I-" Sherlock slams his foot down, "Don't you dare John. We are not going to die. I am right about this man. Don't choose and he will crumble."

"How could you know?"  I ask him and he straightens his back, "Because I do John, that's my job, to notice."

"Oh come on Sherlock, let the man speak I think he going to tell you he's in love with you." The third voice says over the music.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "John doe not love me obviously,"

I felt sad so I looked away from Sherlock, my heart pulling at those strings holding it up.

"You know for a smart man you are quite dumb," The voice says, I can't look at Sherlock so I just listen to the music.


"You're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter's night,
And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might,

And I can't fight this feeling anymore,
I've forgotten what I started fighting for,
It's time to bring this ship into its shore,"


"John," I don't look at him, I knew I should but if I did I would cry because I was going to die for him no matter what he thought or how he felt about me. It was irrelevant; Sherlock would live because I wanted it that way.

"John, stay calm alright. I expected this to happen, I have taken precautions." Sherlock's voice is attempting to be soothing.

"But would you bet your life on that?" The voice asks but I'm not sure who he was talking to so I stay quite.

"Maybe I was prepared for your precautions, Mr. Holmes."

"John, don't listen to him. He is just trying to scare you into choosing."


"And throw away the ores forever,
Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore,
I've forgotten what I started fighting for,
And if I have to crawl upon the floor,"


"John, look at me." Sherlock asks in a low voice and I obey, our eyes meet and for the first time I feel warmth spread through my stomach, he was beautiful.

"It's alright Sherlock, it's all alright." He gives me a look, "Don't do that John, don't you give up. Don't tell me you've already chosen." He leaves his perfect lips parted, his face turning slowly into discomfort and fear.

"I don't know," I say to him, a lie of course I already know who I would choose but I wasn't sure if I were going to say it aloud.

Part of me wished I could go back three or four days when Sherlock was in bed with me, it was so innocent. His body curled up at my side with a sore throat, needing comfort but not asking. I think then he would have even let me kiss him. The warmth radiating from him or me, I couldn't tell at the time we were too close to know for sure. If I had known he was naked when he got into my bed I wonder how things might have gone different, in even the smallest of detail.


"Come crashing through your door,
Baby I can't fight this feeling anymore,
My life has been such a world wind since I saw you,
I've been running around in circles in my mind,"


"Sherlock?" I say his name as a question shifting my eyes again to look at him, "Yes?" he looks back to me with a curious expression.

"We get out of this I'm going to kick your ass," Sherlock's curious expression bleed into amusement, "For what?"

"Ignoring your doctor orders," I say smiling a bit, I didn't need him to know that I was already off the deep end; I was already aware that I would say my name when the song ended.


"And it always seems that I'm following you girl,
Cause' you take me to the places that I know I'd never find,
And even as I wonder I'm keeping you in sight,
You're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter's night,"


"I'd like to see you try, John." Sherlock gave a crooked smile; I return it best I could.

"Oh Sherlock don't you see, John is saying goodbye. He means to say his name when the song ends." The third voice interrupts the moment.

"No, He is stronger then your games." Sherlock says but gives me 'you better not do that look'

Sorry Sherlock, I don't mean to disappoint you I never wanted to but this was something I would need to do. If you think about it thought if it were not today I would give my life up for you some other day. Some psychopath will corner Sherlock, me or both of us and I will die for you Sherlock.

I only have the best intentions.


"And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might,
And I can't fight this feeling anymore,
I've forgotten what I started fighting for,
It's time to bring this ship into its shore,
And throw away the ores forever,"


The song would be over soon.

"Sherlock, it's been an honor to work with you." I say catching my flat mate off guard, he stares at me.

"John, don't do this." I swallow hard, "Tell Mrs. Hudson you are out of tea." I say in response, though it wasn't much of a response.

"I am warning you," Sherlock almost growls at me, his voice seemed a bit better then before, maybe his sickness was over.  

"Oh, and we are out of beans and your dry cleaning is due to be picked up," I say to him, he needed to know for when I was gone.

"John stop it," Sherlock looks down then back up to me, his eyes glazed over, "Please."


"Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore,
I've forgotten what I started fighting for,
And if I have to crawl upon the floor,
Come crashing through your door,
Baby I can't fight this feeling anymore,"


The music phases out.

"Time is up John, who you will choose now please. Tick tock." The voice says to me, I stare into Sherlock's eyes.

"Sorry Sherlock," I say just for him,

"I choose me, John Watson," I then say loudly.

"NO!" Sherlock screams.

"Target has been chosen," The third voice says and a gunshot goes off, it came out of nowhere. The ringing in my ears burns but I don't feel pain, it takes a second before I look down. I was shot in the chest. I really needed to stop getting shot. My brain is hazy and I am sure this time I am dying.

I look up at but don't hear a thing I only see; Sherlock is screaming what could only be my name. His eyes wild, he was struggling against his binds, he looked frantic so unlike himself.

"Sorry. Sherlock." I mumbled.

Things go black.