Johnlock Fluff (mostly) Oneshots

Prompt things

Hey plant, sorry it's been a while, I've had a pretty shitty week, but I did some writing with my friend where he sent me a prompt and we would both write it in our fandomy way sorta. This is 2 mini oneshots compacted into one. The ~~~ is shown, that shows that it's the next story line thing.

Sherlock's POV
I was stood in the long, white corridor of the hospital, drenched in blood. Not mine, for once, though I wished it were. It was my best friends' blood, John's. There had been an explosion at his work, Moriarty's doing of course, but I couldn't help but feel like it was my fault. There was a reason for this though.

As I stood there in the hospital, outside of John's room, the one person I hated more than my brother stood there with me. Moriarty. I would say that I hated Mycroft more, but Mycroft had never physically harmed John.

"Do you blame yourself?" Moriarty asked.

I paused for a moment. "What?" I asked.

"Well it's quite common in this situation for a victim to feel a certain kind of... guilt."

"What situation?" I was still in denial, or at least I was trying to deny it, but it was difficult to deny when I looked down and saw my hands drenched in his blood.

"The 'accident'." He said with a smirk. The explosion had been created perfectly to make it seem like it was an accident, though I knew that it was him.

"I-It wasn't my fault." A tear rolled down my cheek for the first time since I lost Redbeard. When Redbeard had died, I had built up an emotional wall to protect myself, and now Moriarty was using John against me to make that wall crumble. This was his plan to destroy me, and it was working.

"Oh, wasn't it? You let him go into work today. You didn't stop him." He paused for dramatic effect and leaned in closer. "And now this is all your fault, Mr Sherlock Holmes."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away. I did the same, and I walked into John's room.

He lay there, looking so helpless. I hated seeing my precious soldier wounded like this. I washed my hands, as not to get any more blood on him, and then I sat on a chair next to his bed, holding his hand and waiting for him to wake up.

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Sherlock's POV
It was the eighth day of John's abduction, and I was still no closer to finding him. I was beginning to lose all hope of ever seeing my blogger again. Moriarty had given me absolutely no information on where he was holding John. I knew it was Moriarty, he had threatened me a few days before John went missing, so it had to be him.

One day, I got a video from an unknown number. It wasn't too difficult to figure out that it was from Moriarty.

I clicked on the notification and played the video. John was tied up in a chair in a dark room, looking bruised, covered in deep cuts. He just looked so broken, like he had given up on all hope. The entire time, he just looked down at his feet.

Moriarty stood next to him, looking psychotic. He had a smile on his face, but the smile didn't reach his eyes, and they contained murder.

He began singing a song as he walked in circles around John.

"I can't decide whether you should live or die
Oh you'll probably go to heaven
Please don't hang you head and cry
Don't wonder why my heart feels dead inside
It's cold and hard and petrified
Lock the doors and close the blinds
We're going for a ride

Oh I could throw you in a lake
Or feed you poison birthday cake
I won't deny, I'm going to miss you when you're gone
Or I could bury you alive
But you might crawl out with a knife
And kill me when I'm sleeping

That's why I can't decide whether you should live or die
Oh you'll probably go to heaven
Please don't hang you head and cry
Don't wonder why my heart feels dead inside
It's cold and hard and petrified
Lock the doors and close the blinds
We're going for a ride."

"Here's your one clue, Sherlock," Moriarty said in his Irish drawl. "I've got John, and it's fairly easy, or at least it should be for a mind like yours. However, you have 20 minutes to find him before I kill him." He brought out a knife and held it against John's cheek, dragging it along slowly, drawing blood.

John had no reaction, he didn't even flinch. I couldn't help but wonder how much had happened to him for him not to have any reaction to it whatsoever. As soon as the video ended, I immediately began analysing the video to see where he was.

Moriarty was correct, it was fairly easy, and I had it figured out in just under 4 minutes. 16 minutes left to save John. I sprinted out of the flat, messaging Mycroft to send me a car as quickly as possible.

I arrived at the warehouse with 2 minutes to spare. Praying that I hadn't got it wrong, I burst into the room. Luckily, there was John. It would have been awful if I had got it wrong at this point. Moriarty seemed to be on the phone to someone, so he didn't notice me.

I pulled out my gun and aimed it at Moriarty, steadying my shaking hand. It would be truly awful if I also missed him when shooting at him. I squeezed the trigger, and the bullet flew out and went perfectly through him head.

John looked up at the noise, and he had terror in his eyes. My heart broke just looking at him, so I ran forwards and I wrapped my arms around him. He flinched away for a moment, but then the melted into it and started sobbing.

"Shh, I'm here now, nothing else is going to happen to you now."

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Hey yall, hope yall liked it :D I am exhausted so I'm going to go to sleep now so nos da ffrindiau