For John Watson

[howdull]

[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.]

Comments

[howdull]

[It takes a few moments before the officer, Philip Harly, actually notices John. But when he does there’s a little double take and he radios from the walkie talkie on his shoulder quietly. Three officers start moving in John’s direction.]

Alright there, John? The DI said he’d like to see you.

[jumpthegun]

[John pretends to double take right back.]

Oh, uh... did he? I'm just passing by. Probably see him later. I'll drop round the station this afternoon.

[He starts stepping back through the crowd.]

[howdull]

No need, he’s on his way over. Why don’t you come over and sit with us until he gets there?

[Phil makes sure to stay in John’s eyeline as a non threatening presence, while three of his colleagues are converging from other angles.]

Sherlock here as well, is he?

[jumpthegun]

Nah, mate. He's checking the other bomb threat site. I've got an appointment to keep over there, sorry. I'll see you around!

[John turns and starts to run, only to see the other officers closing in. That's going to make this more of a challenge. His gaze darts around, looking for a gap in the 'net' and he makes for it, doing his best not to shove and jolt his ribs. It's unavoidable really, though, and it's not long before he's gasping less for the exertion and more for pain as he tries to get to a cleared area to put on a sprint.]

[howdull]

[As soon as John starts to run all of the police officers give chase, Phil audibly swearing before he joins in too. It’s perfect, exactly what Sherlock asked for, everyone’s attention is on John now.

He has a head start and the crowd don’t help, half of them getting in the way while trying to assist. For the first time in what might feel like forever, things might actually be going John’s way as he gets a clear shot at his hiding spot.]

[jumpthegun]

[John tries not to make any noise as he ducks down behind some cars and uses them as cover in his break for the alleyway. If he makes it to the bins, he'll scramble behind them and curl himself in small, putting his hand over his mouth and breathing shallowly through his nose. His ribs scream and he can feel the healing skin across his shoulders, under the plasters, tearing apart as he hunches. Hot tears prickle at his eyes, but he holds, listening for the sounds of the officers.]

[howdull]

[There's the sound of footsteps running past, but they don't think that he's hiding nearby. He's trying to get away, so clearly he's kept running, perhaps to warn Sherlock.

It seems like he's got away with it.

If he makes it to Sainsbury car park without passing out from that pain of that ill-advised run, Sherlock will be waiting by the large trolleys with two white suits and dust masks to disguise themselves.]

[jumpthegun]

[It's a very near thing. John's staggering a bit down the pavement, feeling extremely faint and probably looking extremely drunk at this hour of the morning. When John reaches Sherlock, the other man will see he's looking rather peaky, not a little like death warmed over. But he's clinging to consciousness and soldiering through. He survived a bullet through his shoulder and ensuing infection that really should have killed him. He can survive this.]

Just... just give me a moment. I'll be just a moment.

[He'll lean against the nearest large stationary object and just close his eyes, gathering himself together for what's going to be more pain as he pulls the suit on. It occurs to him that he should have pocketed the meds Molly bought for him before leaving the flat this morning. That was a terrible terrible mistake.]

[howdull]

[Sherlock waits with unusual patience while John catches his breath. He really should be paying more attention to John's physical state, perhaps he wasn't quite fit for this sort of thing. It has to be irritation that he's feeling at the potential loss of usefulness, not worry. Not concern, he doesn't do concern.

Yet somehow he stands still and silent, not offering any commentary, until John gives an indication that he's ready to start moving again.]

You take what's left of the crematorium in tact, and I'll survey the rubble.

[John does not need to be doing the heavy lifting and clambering job right now.]

[jumpthegun]

[He nods.]

All right. They might have left one of the alphabet things... like they did for Harry, if she's really... gone.

[A part of him is desperately hoping that it's a ruse and Molly's being held somewhere else. He'll trail after Sherlock, back toward the scene, before they put on their suits and duck under the police tape. As with the hospital, John just carries himself like he belongs there and doesn't get more than a passing glance from any of the officers or other technicians as they stroll right on forward.

John tries not to stare too long at any of the uniformed officers before they're into the building. He takes one of the intact rooms, trying to sort out where he even is, in relation to the rest of the building. It's been years since he's been here, and they hadn't stayed terribly long.]

[howdull]

[John might hear the other officers talking as he passes them by, bits of information coming in dribs and drabs. They've found the remains of bomb and detonation site among where the bodies are generally stored before being brought through to be cremated, but they have no idea why someone would want to bomb a locked and deserted crematorium.

Nobody has been injured, as far as they know, though the structural damage is intense and the resulting fire took a long time to put out. The worst of the devastation is around the storage and chapel areas.

If John makes it as far as where the services would have been held, much of this area decimated now and crunching underfoot, he might hear a weak and sporadic knocking from inside the actual cremation oven.]

[jumpthegun]

[There are other people in the room and John's attempting to look busy while just picking over the rubble. It takes him a moment to actually hear the knocking, but he's drawn toward the oven when he does, brow furrowed. With as intense as the fire had been, he's a little concerned about this thing being melted shut somehow, but it does deal with fire.

He'll try the latch and do his best to tug it open without hurting himself. There's a distant, hopeful flutter. Molly is clever. Molly Hooper is very clever. Much cleverer than Sherlock and certainly Jim give her credit for. Could she have...? Maybe?]

[gallowshumour]

[The door isn't melted shut, but it has buckled badly from the force of the blast and so jams after an inch or two. But that's enough for fingers to come shooting out of the gap, wiggling as if to create the maximum possibility for being seen, and a voice tight with pain to call.]

Hello? Is someone out there? Please help me, I'm trapped.

[It's definitely Molly's voice.

The oven hadn't been a perfect idea, there had always been a danger of the gases inside igniting and cooking her alive, but it had been the best she could improvise as a bomb shelter. Designed to keep fire in, it kept it out pretty well too, but the metal had buckled and broken one of her arms, and then she couldn't get out even after she heard the emergency services arriving.]

[jumpthegun]

[He grasps her searching fingers immediately.]

I'm here. Molly, I'm here. It's John. Oh, god...

[He raises his voice because there's no way he's getting her out alone.]

Help! Help, there's someone trapped!

[gallowshumour]

John?!

[She can't quite believe her ears, it's really him? She's not just gone mad from fear and started hallucinating, right?]

I'm okay, it's just my arm. Are you-- are you and Sherlock alright? Did he hurt you? I'm so sorry, I wasn't quick enough to stop him grabbing me.

[Footsteps start heading quickly in John's direction, three other officers and Sherlock at the front of the pack, long legs eating up the distance and relief evident on his face even above the dust mask.]

[jumpthegun]

[He lowers his voice.]

I'm fine. We're both fine. You need to pretend it's not me and Sherlock here, though. Please.

[After a moment he raises his voice, attempting a posh accent akin to Sherlock's to put off his identity after that shout. It's... mixed success.]

There's a woman in here. We need a crowbar.

[howdull]

[Molly doesn’t really understand but she’s smart enough to know not to question it now. She just goes silent, her fingers trembling ever so slightly in John’s grip.

Sherlock mimics a cockney accent with much greater success, muscling in close to John as the one of the others runs for tools.]

Alright, ma’am, you’re going to be fine. We’ll get you out of there in no time and then Officer Johnson, the one holding your hand, will go with you to the hospital while we work here.

Hang on. [That’s one of the others looking confused.] I thought PC Higgs was in charge until DI Lestrade got here.

[If there’s one thing that Sherlock is good at, it’s giving off an air of authority, which he does now to make the poor man wilt back.]

Since DI Lestrade isn’t here yet, DI Dimmock sent me in to keep order. Don’t like it, tell your boss to take it up with mine, but our first priority here has to be this young woman. Or don’t you think she deserves a police escort to the hospital to get her statement?

No, uh— that’s not what I’m saying, of course she should.

Then you have a problem with Officer Johnson personally?

No! I mean, uh— [The poor policeman looks over at John apologetically, looking completely wrong footed.] Sorry, mate, I didn’t mean that at all. You go with her.

[jumpthegun]

It's all right. [He bites down on the natural inclination to call the other man 'mate' in return. It doesn't entirely go with the persona he's trying to put on.]

I'll make certain my notes for her statement are sent to DI Lestrade.

[John keeps hold of Molly as one of the other officers comes over with a crowbar and wedges it in.]

Just a moment, miss, and hold tight. There'll probably be a loud screech when we get this open.

[The oven gives after several hard yanks, screeching and clanging open. His voice is gentle as he lowers her hand and moves to try to help her out.]

[howdull]

[Excellent, people are so predictable when it comes to not wanting to hurt someone else's feelings, even in a professional situation. It makes them laughably easy to manipulate.

He's at John's side in a moment to help Molly out. She's got a cut above her right eye, she's covered in dust, and her left arm is being held awkwardly close to her body. But she looks focused, if pale and pained, and she's holding herself together well. He's proud of her, he might even tell her that later.]

Officer Johnson, take her to the ambulance. Quickly, if you please.

[Get out of here before anyone rumbles them.]

[jumpthegun]

[John just nods, one hand going to the small of Molly's back as he ushers her away from the scene. They can call Sherlock as soon as they're away. Or at least text him from the ambulance. He mutters to Molly as they walk.]

Jim's probably gonna find out you're alive quickly, but we'll try to hide it for as long as we can. Mycroft--Sherlock's brother--he's forced Sherlock into rooms at some hotel. You can stay there. It'll be under his direct surveillance.

[Which may or may not mean anything. At least there will probably be guards there, as well, not just microphones and cameras.]

DI Lestrade's going to need to get your statement, too. Molly, I'm so sorry this is all happening to you. I'm just... I'm so happy you're alive.

[gallowshumour]

[She can't deny that she's shaken, she honestly thought that she might die in there. But Sherlock had come for her, he'd looked relieved when he saw her, and that's worth a lot of suffering. John too, of course, she's happy to see him as well. He's had a lot piled on him in a short time, and she doesn't want to be one more thing, so she tries for a smile.]

Well-- he tried to kill a morgue technician in a crematorium, that wasn't very smart of him, was it?

[She swallows hard as her arm jostles a bit, keeping her eyes fixed on the ambulance ahead.]

[jumpthegun]

[He smiles behind his mask.]

I dunno if you heard... I told him you were cleverer than him and Sherlock both. You are a rare woman, Molly Hooper.

[John lets his expression turn back to something more serious as they make it to the ambulance. He puts on his wretched posh accent again as he addresses one of the paramedics.]

We need to get Ms. Hooper to hospital... gentlemen. She survived the blast inside that building. I'll be riding with you.

[gallowshumour]

[That accent is awful, and Molly makes a slight face behind the back of one of the paramedics while they're getting into the ambulance. Luckily, neither of the paramedics has a reason to question this, so John just gets a nod and Molly gets settled onto the gurney with a quick shot of morphine for the pain.

Once they're underway, one of the paramedics glances over at John companionably.]

Any idea what happened? Not exactly a routine call out.

[jumpthegun]

[John's not sure how much to pretend at knowing, but he'll try to give the man as much as he can.]

Someone called in a bomb threat on a clinic in the area; a warning, really. I think they might have got the location wrong. Something about a lawyer named Moriarty, I believe. I'm sure they'll be bringing him in for questioning.

[gallowshumour]

[He shakes his head with a slight tut of his tongue.]

There's a whole lot of psychos out there, why would a lawyer want to blow up a crematorium?

[Mary tilts her head towards the conversation, eyes unfocused from the morphine coursing through her system.]

He was trying to kill me, but you shouldn't tell anyone because it's kind of a big secret.