Chapter Text
John’s perspective
I jolt awake for a start, head throbbing. I slowly look around noticing the blinding white walls. The feeling in my arms come back and they are aching as I try to remember how I got in this predicament in the first place.
“Do you remember if I turned off the kettle, John?” Sherlock questioned while I was trying to squeeze my arms out of the rope that tied me to a chair.
“I don’t even remember how we got here in the first place. Of course I don’t remember if you did” I scoffed followed by the feeling of something flicking my hand.
“Think John. Think” He whined. Honestly even in a situation of us being tied up to a chair, he still manages to act childish.
Sherlock jumped out of his chair, rushing to the door.
“I got it John! He HAS to be there!” He shouted while putting on his coat and scarf, rushing past Mrs. Hudson. I hopped out of my chair accidentally spilling the mug of tea next to me onto the ground.
“Look at the mess you made, John” Mrs. Hudson tutted. I quickly apologised rushing to catch up with Sherlock.
I walked slowly behind Sherlock as we rounded the corner.
“Shouldn’t we call Lestrade..you know...for back up? You already know that we’ll be outnumbered.” I whispered. He turned around to look at me, scoffing. I looked behind me as the doors slammed shut.
“Great. Just great.” I muttered. Turning back, Sherlock nowhere in sight. Sighing I walked forward. BANG. I fall to the ground blacking out.
“BORED” Sherlock bellowed, thrashing around in his chair “I am BORED. Looking for an escape is so BORING”. With a clash, we are on the ground, still tied to the chair.
“Sherlock! You dim witted noodle!” I shouted, shoving my head back clashing with Sherlocks. Just then the lights decided to go out, leaving us in complete darkness. Minutes past. Turning into hours.
“Have you ever had a boyfriend before, John?” Sherlock asked out of nowhere. I lift an eyebrow, even though he cannot see.
“We are literally in a situation that could get us killed and instead of trying to find a way to get out you’re trying to decide whether I’m gay or not!” I snap.
“Well I know you’ve been with a string of women but yet you look at me with some sort of interest. Some sort of fondness. But not the kind of fondness one feels for a friend no, but one of affection.” He said matter of factly.
“Sherlock! We have other things to focus on. Who I prefer to sleep with is not on that list!” I retorted trying to crane my neck to glance at Sherlock, earning a snicker from him.
“Avoiding the topic is some sort of sign that I am right with my observations.” He grinned. I stay quiet, refusing to talk more about this any further.
“So, how is that plan of escape?” I blurt after a few seconds of silence.
“I mean it doesn’t affect how I see you, John. If you were in fact gay.” He added.
“I could be talking about how I murdered redbeard and you’ll just keep asking about my thoughts on men, won’t you?” I stated. I could practically feel him smirk.
“So...have you been seeing anyone recently?” He asked smoothly.
“I am NOT having this conversation with you, Holmes.” I said, shaking my head.
“But yet here we are, this conversation at hand.” He added.
“You do realise that if I weren’t bound to you right now I would have left the building and started it on fire with you in it hours ago.” I responded.
“Oh come on this conversation started merly 3.6 minute ago!” He complained.
“I don’t care.” I said quickly. He sighed in what seems to be defeat. I relax a bit and look around, straining my eyes to try to see in the dark.
“But are you though?” He asked.
“For god’s sake. You’re Sherlock Holmes! You bloody well know everything! Wouldn’t you already KNOW if I was or not!” I exclaim.
“Well, Watson. That is the thing. You’re the only one I cannot read, not really. I know when you brushed your teeth, I know when you’ve bought new shoes, but I cannot decipher your desire in the sense of a partner.” He went on “Although I do know that you look at me differently than other woman, as I stated previously. With the last one you just didn’t have that comfortability as you do with me.”
I tried to ignore whatever remarks he had left as I tried moving my hands free, rope cutting into my skin. Then it clicked. How could I forget?
“Sherlock, try reaching into my back pocket for a pocket knife.” I ordered him.
“Since when do you carry a knife, John?” He questioned.
“Ever since I started my job with you and being kidnapped like twice a month.” I stated. He shrugged and did what I told him, he managed grabbing a hold of the knife and cutting himself free from his chair. Sherlock stood up straightening his coat out.
“Alright now, your turn.” He said cutting the ropes around my wrists and ankles. I stood up immediately trying to find a wall. As I slowly walk blindly forward I feel something hard. Grabbing onto whatever is in front of me I start feeling around for some sort of switch.
“John, instead of groping me, just admit you’re gay.” Sherlock smirked. Even though it is dark, I can feel him looking down at me. My face grows warm as I take a step back muttering an apology. Finally finding an actual wall I walk along it, as I am doing this the lights go back on. Sherlock immediately walks towards a door that was right next to me, pulling out a bobby pin and trying to pick the lock. He opens the door, letting me go first. I walk in and realise that we’re in a restaurant. Sherlock pulls out his phone and checks for signal. Just as he found signal a text appears.
What a bummer. Thought the brilliance of Sherlock Holmes would know what a decoy looked like. Next time perhaps?
-JM
Sherlock frowned and put his phone back in his coat pocket walking towards the door.
“Wait what just happened?” I asked confused.
“It was a trap! Of how difficult this case is I thought I figured it out!” He glared. We continued to walk out of the building finding a busy road and getting a cab. When the cab pulled up to 221B, Sherlock got out leaving me in the car to pay the cabbie. As I walked up to our flat, Sherlock was sitting in his chair in his normal prayer like position. Sighing I walked to the kitchen and noticing that the kettle was still indeed on.
“You did leave the kettle on, by the way.” I stated glancing at Sherlock. He opened his eyes to look at me. He then stood up and walked to where I was standing. Taking my hand and looking into my eyes. My breath hitched.
“I knew you were.” He smirked, letting go of my hand to head back to his chair. Leaving me in shock.