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Warm. Then cold. Something got stuffed into him. Cold again. Darkness
Sherlock didn't know where he was. He just knew he was all alone.
I'm bored was all he could think before he got blinded by sudden light.
what the... ?! something got stuffed in his space and he couldn't see again but he knew he wasn't alone any more. It got completely dark again.
"Hello?" a soft whisper, merely audible reached Sherlock.
"Who is there?" He asked rather harsh. Now that he wasn't alone any more he felt safer but he would never admit that, that's for sure.
"I'm John" was the answer, the voice now stronger. "What's your name?"
"Could you shut up a second? I'm trying to think over here" he shot back, and then because he somehow liked that stranger's voice and felt obliged to, added "the name's Sherlock."
In the silence following his words, he was finally able to over think his situation: he was at some place he didn't know, he couldn't see and was pressed into a small place with a complete stranger. Sherlock would have had every reason to panic but then again, he'd already been in situations way worse than this one. He decided that he could try to make some conversation and at least find out who his unwanted companion was.
"How did you end up here?"
silence...
"John?"
"uh-huh?"
Well, he didn't die while Sherlock was thinking.
"I said, 'how did you end up here?'" Sherlock repeated.
"oh, uh, I don't know. I just, sorta, suddenly was here and I don't know why and how..." his voice kept calm.
At least he's not freaking out Sherlock couldn't help but being impressed.
"Sherlock?" John's voice cut the silence.
"John?" Sherlock sighed slightly annoyed. This guy just couldn't be silent for a moment.
"How long have you been here? Do you know where here is and how you ended up here?" John let his questions leave his mouth in a rush.
"I have no idea, John, but I think we're on a journey to some different place by now"
"Why's that?" John sounded suspicious.
That was his strength. Sherlock started listing his observations: "There was a piece of paper stuffed in with us, probably the delivery note. The bump when our package got a stamp, then the concussion from loading us on the delivering vehicle. We're moving. We're getting shipped.
Silence.
"That's... that's remarkable!"
Sherlock didn't know what to reply to that. No one had ever called him that before. It was dark and silent again.
______________________________
A rattle. A concussion. A bump and it was quiet again.
"What's now?" John's voice wasn't so much frightened as ... annoyed? At that point Sherlock cursed his inability to read people's moods from the sound of their voices.
"I guess we wait." What else was there to do anyway?
A shaking, a noise - ripping! - and he got blinded by broad daylight.
"Finally! Just in time!" the package was opened and he got stuck to a cold hard object. From what Sherlock could hear, the same happened to John. He felt like being lifted and the next second he was thrown in some sort of pit padded with textiles and it got dark. Again.
"I'm sick of this!" John sounded short-tempered and Sherlock couldn't blame him regarding their situation. "I've been through worse but this darkness really is getting on me by now!"
Sherlock, meanwhile, had a hard time focusing. This all was just too familiar. The darkness, the cold, his back pressed against a hard object and the uncertainty of his fate sent him into a rather terrifying flashback.
"Argh! Not again!" He shook, trying to focus.
"Again? What do you mean again!?" John sounded worried now "Sherlock? You alright?"
John's voice hat a soothing effect on him. Sherlock regained his countenance and he coughed. "Yes, I'm good just a deja vu of a case a couple years back. I could help myself out though."
"A case? You're a detective? Would explain why you had an explanation for everything back then." someone was getting snippy. Sherlock found himself appreciating that.
"Consulting detective. Only one in the world. Invented the job." he explained. "Afghanistan or Iraq?"
"Excuse me?"
Sherlock took a deep breath "You keep calm in such a situation. You get rather snappy than frightened which indicates that you experienced a distress like that before. Therefore I assume you are a soldier. So, again: Afghanistan or Iraq?"
"Amazing!"
Sherlock chuckled "you are aware you're saying that out loud, right? So what happened, you got injured?"
There was a smile in his voice when John replied "got shot. They sent me home. Thought I was done with danger, looks like I was wrong."
A sudden flash of affection hit him, hadn't he despised human interaction before, he liked doing so with this man who didn't feel like a stranger at all.
"don't worry John, I'll get us out of ..." it got bright before he could finish and Sherlock got dragged out into daylight. There were noises and it was so loud. Suddenly John was beside him. He was so close they almost touched and he felt the urge to do so. Before his senses even adapted to the noise and light they got stuffed into a dark place again. John followed straight after. This time there was no textile, just hard and cold surface.
He didn't know how much time had passed when John's voice cut the silence "guess we're done, aren't we?" He still didn't sound frightened. Just tired.
"You're not alone in this, John" Sherlock promised. He didn't want his new friend to get hurt but what could he do about that now? He felt heavy and confused. For he could explain everything, he couldn't explain this.
"No, I'm not. Neither are you and as long as we're together, there's hope."
Oh, Sherlock felt his affection grow. Somehow his loneliness vanished when he heard John's voice. They were close, so close, but still not touching.
"John?" he reached out "We'll get out of this, promise!"
"I hope so, Sherlock, I hope so." John replied. And then "Sherlock!?" there was panic in his voice "Sherlock!? What's happening!"
Silence.
"John?"
Silence.
"John!?"
He was gone. Sherlock was alone. In the darkness. He had never been afraid of the darkness, but now being all alone not knowing what was happening and his friend being gone, the loneliness was overwhelming and he longed for the light. But there was nothing he could do, so he waited.
Sherlock waited.
When the light returned, Sherlock was prepared. He had a quick look and... What was that!? It looked like he was in a colossal cupboard. Something got pushed against him and it got dark again.
"Sherlock? I know what's happening." John sounded terrified now.
That alarmed Sherlock. The calm John sounding terrified. Something had happened to him.
"What happened, John?" he tried to keep his voice calm.
"I... There... I don't know. I feel somewhat empty."
"What do you mean you don't know? What happened that you're feeling empty?" he didn't know how to react.
"They opened me! They grabbed and opened and they took something from me, then closed me and put me back into something that looked like a cupboard. But a real big one. And there was a really big jar, slightly taller than me and it contained something brown."
Pause.
A whisper "Just like what they took from me."
"Don't be silly John. Your mind is working strange it's just too much stress."
"Sherlock? Please tell me that's not you I'm touching!"
what?! What was John talking about? Yes they were touching. He shivered. "John, listen, that might sound strange but I think something happened to us. I think we are jars of something."
"What?! No, Sherlock, no! that can't be possible!"
"Just think about it, John. They opened you, they took something from you. How did they open you, did they unscrew you?" saying that out loud sounded ridiculous.
"What is this?! Some kind of joke?! Did Harry set you up on this? If so it definitely has gone too far, opening me!" John sounded about to lose it.
"This is no joke, John! I might have lost my mind, but this is the only explanation to what is happening to us. At least we're not alone but together in this." Sherlock felt somewhat safe touching John.
"Yes, we are. Just promise not to leave me."
"I promise. We stay together." Sherlock said solemnly.
"Until our jars are empty?"
Sherlock tried to nod. "Until we are empty."
Two jars of Nutella in a cupboard. So close. Together at last.