fossilised | For John Watson

For John Watson

[Sherlock is still finding pieces of the melted laptop in the carpet.

It had actually been quite an ingenious booby trap to be devised by a fourteen year old boy with only household chemicals to work with but, as Sherlock surmised, rather overkill to keep his mother from finding his extensive porn collection. Not one of their more illustrious cases, but it had been quite entertaining to watch both the boy and mother's faces as he revealed that he did know the how and why. He lost interest after the mother started shouting and John started shouting and the whole thing turned tedious.

He rather thinks John won't actually be doing a full write-up of this one on his blog.

It's been two days since their last case and he's beginning to get more than a little antsy. Lestrade has sent him nothing, just a boring hit and run that he refused to even leave the flat for, and nobody interesting has appeared through the blog. Said blog he is currently scrolling through on John's laptop, having borrowed it again.

He did ask, it's not his fault John hadn't been in the room at the time.]

Bored, John.

[He doesn't even know if his flatmate is even in, but that's hardly a necessity for him to actually speak to John. Frustrated, he throws the laptop across the room to hit the wall, where it summarily breaks. Which is where he can be found whenever John appears, sulking amidst pieces of laptop, both from the melted one of their last case and John's poor broken one.]

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Seven? [He looks over at her in confusion. Did he miss-hear Sherlock or did the man misspeak? The instructions had been three stops.] Are you sure?

[As he steps closer to the map, he pulls out his phone to start dialing Lestrade, reflexively, but...]

Uh... [John realizes what he's doing and just fiddles with his phone indecisively. Lestrade isn't going to be happy with him. He might just outright arrest John if he turns up and finds that the doctor isn't in his hospital room. But this is important and they should have back-up. Especially for the place Sherlock's staying at. But they can't trust anyone apart from Lestrade in the department. Jim was able to crack an Army base, NSY wouldn't be much trouble.] Jim might have the phones tapped. I don't want him getting wind of where we really are if we can help it. I don't want him or his men anywhere near you, Molly. Not again.

[He trusts her map-reading skills more than Sherlock's directions, so he'll purchase a ticket and follow after her, pocketing his phone.]

[Molly rolls her eyes at John indulgently. Sherlock knows London exceptionally well, but he doesn't keep that up to date with things like tube stations, as he goes everywhere in a taxi. There have been new ones built, and the route slightly changed, so more stops than there had been before.

She frowns. It's both touching to be worried about, and a little insulting to be protected all the time as if she can't help out at all. Maybe she can't, it is her fault that Jim knows so much, after all, isn't it?]

Then call from a payphone, he can't have every phone in the city tapped, that's ridiculous. We shouldn't do this alone, John, he's just as dangerous near you as he is near me.

[John glances at her, frowning, as they step onto the platform to wait.]

It's Lestrade's phone that might be tapped. Or Jim might have people on the force. He was able to trick his way onto a secure military base. Can't imagine the Met's offices'd be hard to plant someone.

[He can recognize the logic of what she's saying, but all the same, there are alarms in his head. Trust no one. Except Sherlock, Molly, James, and Mrs. Hudson. Well, and Lestrade. Just not Lestrade's men.]

[Molly's expression might be hard to pin down, but there's definitely something like gentle sympathy in her eyes. It must be so tiring to be so paranoid, to not trust anyone or anything.

Poor John.]

I don't think he even knows Lestrade exists, I never talked about him. He'll be just another policeman.

He knew my commander from Afghanistan exists, and he's been paying attention to Sherlock, hasn't he? [John shakes his head.] I don't think we can trust it, Molly. We'll be okay. It's just standing around for a bit, then we'll head back.

[He offers her a smile that doesn't reach his eyes as the train pulls in and John joins the queue to wait to get on. The feverishness and malaise he's been feeling since waking this morning decides it's best to remind him that it's there as he's preparing to stand with a bunch of people all around him in a small, confined space.

Well, just as long as he doesn't throw up or anything, it will be fine.]

[This is really not good.

It feels like they're getting closer to catching Caroline Matthews, and maybe even bringing down Moriarty too, but what's the point in John and Sherlock destroy themselves in the process? John especially looks like he's holding on by a thread, like he might just self destruct if he could guarantee to take his enemies out in the same explosion.

She doesn't speak during the tube ride, she just stands pressed close to John to offer silent support. Halfway between stations the train jolts to a stop, the lights flickering overhead.]

Uh-- technical issue?

[There's no such thing as coincidence, not anymore. John instinctively starts to reach for a gun at the back of his waistband that isn't there. He stops himself and just plays it off as an awkward brush of his leg as he offers Molly a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.]

Expect so.

[He stares out at the black expanse beyond the windows, feeling the weight of London bearing down on them. People around them make quiet sounds of irritation at the delay.]

If we don't get an announcement, I'll see about talking to the driver.

[As you do. John's not typically one of those passengers, but in this instance, his mind can't help running to the worst possible conclusions. How would anyone even know they were here? Unless his phone location's being monitored. John has a vision of Caroline strolling into the carriage, shooting the nearest civilians, shooting Molly. It would be Jake all over again, but with nowhere to run to. They're fish in a barrel here and he has no weapons apart from his fists.

He's tense, gaze shifting between either end of the carriage. The anticipation is almost worse than anything that could possibly come. John's imagination is far better with filling in horrors than something that more closely matches reality.]

[Even in the flickering light, it's not hard to see that John has gone tense all over, and that smile painted on his face only makes it even more unsettling. Why does he feel that he needs to reassure her, like she's some frightened ninny who can't handle the possible truth?

She doesn't think this is the doing of Matthews, though, how could she have known what train they'd be on specifically? How could she hack into the tube network on such short notice? Surely even Jim, with all the reach and influence he seems to have, couldn't do this. It has to just be a fault.

The seconds stretch on slowly, and no announcement comes, no movement from the train.]

Maybe we should move down towards the front.

[It's a low murmur, she's not letting him go alone, but they need to be circumspect because moving from one carriage to another is prohibited.]

[He doesn't want to leave her, but he doesn't want to take her, either. Given the options, keeping Molly close means she can't be kidnapped away from him again. Not that there are many places a person could take a woman when trapped on a train underground.]

Yeah.

[He starts to edge along between the other passengers, trying to be unobtrusive. John laces his fingers with Molly's to keep a hold on her as they go. Even if it's not allowed, when they reach the doors to the next carriage, John will aim to move between them.]

[There's absolutely no way to be subtle about opening the doors at the end of each carriage, but luckily commuters in London rarely care about what someone else is doing. They're far too absorbed in muttering to one another about the delay, and what it might mean for their work, to care about John and Molly.

The next carriage is more full, people standing in the aisles as well as sitting, and most glance their way when they enter. It makes Molly's skin prickle, wondering if any of them are watching for something specific, but she mentally shakes herself for her silliness. Honestly, she's getting as paranoid as John.]

Do you think that--

[She gets no further before there's a loud thunking noise further up the train, like something metal striking metal, though she can't figure out what it is.]

They're changing the engine out. [It's a ludicrous, action movie-fueled notion, but it's the first possibility that leaps to John's mind when he hears the noise. A few people give John a look like he's just a little mad, but they soon return to their own grumbling about delays.

John's heart rate picks up and his grip on Molly's hand tightens just a little bit as he starts to move through the carriage. He offers small apologies as he tries to push past people without actually touching them.]

In the middle of a tunnel with passengers still on board?

[Even Molly thinks that's a really unlikely idea, tube trains go back to the depot to do things like change engines. She doesn't even know how a tube train changes engines, but she's sure it doesn't happen under the city with passengers packed into the carriages.]

Maybe we should go back, I don't know if it's a good idea to keep going now?

No. We need to keep going. Something's happening that isn't meant to be happening. [Something potentially bad. They need to find out what.]

I figured that out.

[She's not that dumb. Her fingers curl around his a bit tighter.]

But that doesn't mean we should run into it without thinking, we're both hurt and we don't know what's out there.

[What's out there is maybe the answer to what's happening to him. His voice drops to a whisper.]

Molly, it could be something we need to stop to protect innocent people.

I know that, but... how?

[She tries to meet his eyes with earnest ones of her own, trying to get him to see sense.]

You're very brave, but you need a plan. We don't have weapons and we're injured.

[She has a point. He doesn't have a plan, but the thought of doing nothing is like nails on a chalkboard in the back of his mind. It's intolerable.]

We need to figure out what that noise is first, then we can figure out what we need to do. Until we know something, we're not going to be able to plan effectively.

[That's reasonable. John thinks it sounds reasonable in his head. It's not bulling ahead without a thought. But it's still moving them forward to find out what's happening. If there's too much trouble, he'll send Molly back and he'll deal with whatever it is on his own.]

[In Molly's mind, that just seems to be an excuse to keep bulling ahead under the pretence of needing to make a plan. But there is some logic behind it, they do need to know what's happening, and so she nods.

She squeezes his hand, though, briefly but firmly to get his attention.]

Then we look, but we stay out of sight. Be careful, John, Sherlock won't forgive me if I go home without you.

[Molly's not wrong about John's main motives.]

Just looking. [Unless he sees there's something he can do. Then there will be doing.] C'mon.

[John does his best to move them past people and onto the next carriage while avoiding brushing up against too many people. He still feels slightly feverish and a general sort of malaise, but this task has focused his mind, at least. Sometimes living in anticipation can be worse than just having something happen, good or bad. It had been that way between battles in Afghanistan and these past few weeks have reminded him of the battlefield. Moments of dead quiet, waiting for the first stray bullet to graze past you and the next skirmish to start.]

[She's not sure whether to trust him at his word, but she has no choice right now unless she wants to cause a scene and draw attention to them both, so she just follows him into the next carriage and the one beyond that.

The final one they step into, which should be halfway down the train, is in pandemonium and it's easy to see why. The front of the train has disconnected and disappeared, leaving them stranded in the tunnels.]

[There are times when having his paranoia vindicated really isn't a good thing. John stares at the last carriage before raising his voice to a military bark to try to be heard over the panic.]

Everyone calm down. I'm a doctor. I need to know if there are any injuries and what's happened.

[Hopefully, it will get at least a few people to pause.]

[It does get a couple of people to look over at him, though most of the dozen or so people in this carriage ignore him. One of the women who turned to look, a dark eyed woman in a hijab, points shakily at the door.]

We thought there was just a technical fault, but the train disconnected and went. Someone went out of the door and I think-- I think they're hurt out there. Isn't the track live?

[Yes! This is something that he can help with. It doesn't require a weapon, just a body. Molly can't fault him for doing something here.]

Molly, stay in here and try to calm everyone down. I'll try to get them back inside.

What did the person look like, miss?

I didn't get a good look, it happened so fast. I think it was a man? Maybe?

[Molly reaches out to try and grab him by the elbow, voice low and concerned.]

You can't, she said it's live, you'll just electrocute yourself too.

[That is a point. John recalculates.]

He can't have got far if it's live. I can at least take a look out for him... maybe we can pull him back in with something. I know it's early, but if someone's just come from the shop or if they're a cleaner, they might have some marigolds. We can use those to dampen the charge.

Could you ask around while I take a look?

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