Just Johnlock- The Big Book of One Shots

Fearful Fingers

           

Halloween is a time for happy fear, you know, oh my god you're dressed as a ghost that's vaguely scary! And then you go home. Fear is an emotion that is completely optional in the society we live in now, and the idea of going out of your way and paying money to get so scared you want to pee is just ridiculous. Halloween should be pumpkin carving, hayrides and animated ghost movies, not death and terror and zombie makeup. So when Greg had the genius idea of dragging John Watson to the local haunted house, John felt obligated to tell him all of these very important points on the unnecessariness of fear.
"We should just stay home; watch a scary movie or something, in private so no one else hears me scream." John suggested as Greg drove down the main highway in his stupid little car. He was playing Halloween music from some cheesy CD he's had forever, and John had to admit the Monster Mash was getting a bit old after the tenth time he played it in three days. Greg was a bit of a Halloween junky, which was fine for him, but John, being his best friend, found it a little bit dangerous. John hated to be scared, he hated feeling even the least bit threatened, he remembered once in third grade they had a costume party, and John had to be sent home because he had started to cry when he saw someone's vampire costume. Alright so maybe he's matured a little bit, finally able to distinguish real threats and some idiot just scaring people for fun, but he was still terrified at the idea of being terrified, especially when they were on the road to the most celebrated haunted houses in the area.
"Aw John, are you scared?" Greg asked with a laugh, taking a hand off of the wheel to push John's shoulder into the door. John just shook him off with a groan, turning off the music and pouting a little bit.
"Well ya I'm scared, if that's what you want to hear. But you know that of course, I tell you that every time you try to drag me into this rubbish." John snapped.
"This is the first time I'm actually dragging you into it, don't be a drama queen." Greg insisted with a laugh.
"Last Halloween!" John defended, trying to bring it to Greg's attention that he was an emotionally abusive best friend.
"That doesn't count John; we watched a movie with your parents." Greg snapped.
"Ya, a scary movie!" John defended in a little whimper.
"Harry didn't have a problem with it." Greg pointed out, and John just sighed. It should be a bit of an eye opener if your eight year old sister was braver than you were.
"Harry's different, she's just messed up." John defended in a last ditch attempt to protect his self-dignity.
"No argument there. But still, this is going to make you tougher, you can go through this haunted house you can do anything, you can spit fire!" Greg said dramatically, and John just laughed nervously.
"That sounds painful." He muttered, twisting his hands rather nervously.
"And besides, it's a great place to pick up girls." Greg added. John just laughed, a real laugh this time, and shook his head at Greg's idiocy.
"You're kidding me, is that the only reason you came?" John wondered. Greg tried his best to look offended, but there as a guilty smile on his face.
"Me, using hot girl's fear to my advantage? Never!" he exclaimed, and John sighed.
"You're really one of a kind Greg." John decided with a sigh, not knowing whether or not it was a good thing that he had befriended such a weirdo.
"No I'm not; you're just not cool enough to know that this is the best place to pick up a girl." Greg pointed out, turning off of the highway onto an exit, which meant they were getting closer. John's stomach twisted nervously, and suddenly he regretted eating so many chicken fingers. At the time it had seemed like a good idea, but now it seemed that he would be seeing them again quite soon.
"I swear John, if you don't leave this haunted house without at least one phone number you're going to be doing it all wrong." Greg insisted.
"Oh I'll have a phone number alright, probably 911." John agreed, and Greg just laughed, shaking his head in amusement and turning the music back on, blasting it even louder as they approached their destination. When they pulled into the parking lot the house didn't seem so spooky. In fact it just looked like a big concreate structure, but as his mother always said, it's what's inside that counts. John knew that even though it's drab and dull on the outside, inside those walls were horrors he could never imagine.
"So there it is, spooky huh?" Greg wondered. "If you be real quiet you can probably hear the screaming."
"Oh shut up Greg, let's just go home." John begged.
"Nahhh, you know that's not happening." Greg said very obnoxiously, pushing his door open and hopping out. "I've got some diapers in the back if you need one." he offered with a laugh before shutting the door. John sat in the car for a moment more, tapping his fingers very nervously against his leg. Fine, if Greg thought he couldn't do this then he was going to prove him wrong. Greg didn't think John could make it through some stupid haunted house, he could make it through, he could go through ten times, they're just people with makeup on, what could possibly go wrong? John got out of the car as well, slamming the door rather aggressively behind him and standing up as tall as possible.
"Oh look who decided to be a man. You know what, after this you might grow your first chest hair." Greg pointed out, punching John playfully in the arm and walking off towards the haunted house.
"Stop patronizing me Greg, I can do this, I'll prove to you that I can do this." John snapped.
"I'm sure you can John." Greg agreed.
"I can." John assured once more.
"I believe you, I do." Greg muttered, walking up to the end of the long line of customers, waiting to step inside the doors. John groaned, not feeling so sure about this, but he had to keep up whatever act this was just to prove Greg wrong. Then again, this house looked pretty menacing, it looked like it was just going to swallow John whole. There Halloween music playing over the speakers, but it was low enough so that you could indeed hear the terrified screams of the inhabitants, everyone walking through the halls and squinting at the creatures lurking in the dark. But they weren't creatures, merely humans. Just people, and sometimes people could be scarier than monsters.
"So you walk through it, so you can walk with whoever you want to." Greg pointed out.
"Fascinating Greg." John muttered, his hands buried in his pockets, staring at the sidewalk at the back of everyone's shoes.
"I definitely know who I want to walk with." Greg decided with a little smirk, spotting a pack of girls around their age, all very pretty and all looking very excited. They were a couple of people in front of them, so obviously they were easy targets.
"Don't be a creep Greg, mind your own business." John groaned, about sick of Greg's horrible flirting techniques.
"I'm not being creepy; I'm readily available for any girl who needs a hand to hold. I'm simply doing my duty as a citizen." Greg assured, holding his head high as if he had found his calling or something. John just shook his head, trying to ignore that the line was moving fairly quickly. He was trying to forget that fact that the door was coming closer, and closer, and closer.
"Tickets please." Said the man at the door, and Greg produced two tickets he had ordered online, showing them the receipt. The man nodded, and the doors loomed ahead of them, closed, ready for their next victim.
"Alright then, step right inside." The man decided, and with that Greg gave John one last smile before grabbing one of the door handles and pulling it open. The first thing John felt was the cold air, the smell of mildew and cobwebs, and the sight of pure darkness. He knew he had to step right inside, but he had no idea where he was stepping. This could be a hallway, a staircase, or a swirling abyss and John would have no idea.
"Greg, where'd you go?" John whispered, squinting and taking a cautious step forward. He couldn't see anything, and his hands felt completely numb from fear. His fingernails were digging into his skin but he couldn't seem to feel any pain, nothing but pure fear of what might be waiting for him in this blackness.
"I'm going up ahead, you probably know why." Greg whispered right next to him, making John jump a little bit.
"Greg you can't leave me!" John insisted.
"Why can't you just follow?" Greg wondered, and John squealed in fear, trying to grab where Greg's voice was coming from.
"Greg come back here, you can't just leave!" John said more forcefully.
"Aren't you going to follow?" Greg wondered, his voice getting farther and farther away.
"Greg where are you?!" John said loudly, stopping in his tracks and taking deep, slow breaths. There was this feeling of helplessness inside of him, something that he hadn't felt for as long as he could remember. He had no idea where to go, no idea how to get there, and now no Greg. Where did he even go, how did he know where he was going in the first place? Oh this was awful, maybe John was going blind. But no, a light shone from behind him, and he could see the doors open, a little ways away. Someone else was coming in. John felt like a total loser, just standing there, completely helpless, so he forced his way through, his arms stretched in front of him like a zombie or something. He knew there would be no way he could call for Greg again, then all the actors would know where he was in this darkness. He could see the faintest of lights ahead, as if something under the crack of a door, and John wandered towards it, his heart racing so fast he could hear it thudding against his skull. And then movement, coming from behind him, someone scurrying close to the wall, circling him in the darkness. And then he could hear the slightest noise, right next to his ear, and hot breath, on the back of his neck...John ran as fast as he could towards the light, he could hear screaming but he couldn't process that it was his own. He felt as if he had never moved faster in his life, so when he finally got to the light he had no idea what to do. He stopped in his tracks, breathing heavily and feeling the wall in front of him. But it was just that, a wall, not a door, and he could see another dark passageway lurking in front of him. It looked more detailed though, not just walls, John could see what looked like a spiraling staircase unraveling before him, and this passage was light in a silver grey light, so this time he could see what was going to scare him. John wasn't quite sure if he liked this better, because now he could tell where he was going but he could also see the shadows moving in the corner of his eye, he could see the costumed people getting in position to scare... John heard a scream behind him, and immediately he turned around to see if anything was coming his way. Instead of a masked actor though, a large group of people came racing into the room, and John could only stand and watch as they all circled around him. For a moment he thought they were actors as well, but when he heard them muttering to each other and looking around he realized that they were just as scared as he was. Suddenly John felt a lot safer, not only because he was with other people but because everyone seemed almost as scared as he was. They were shaking as well, they didn't want to open their eyes either, John could guess that this was their first haunted house as well. 
"Go check if it's clear." hissed a female voice rather close to him. John edged a bit away from the first voice, only to bump into another member of the group.
"Why would it be clear?" asked a rather timid voice, sounding rather farther away.
"Let's just get moving." A third decided, his voice shaking in terror.
"Who the heck is that kid?" the first one asked, and suddenly John felt all the eyes on him, all of their fear diminished for a little moment of confusion, and John just smiled timidly.
"I was just standing here." John admitted very quickly, not quite sure what to say.
"Are you an actor?" a voice whispered fearfully, obviously ready to run.
"What, no...my friend left me; I was here when you all ran in." John admitted.
"Alright then, come on with..." her sentence was cut off by a horrible scream, and suddenly someone popped up from behind the pack, a scarecrow with a disfigured face and long brown teeth. The entire group screamed, and it was a lot more satisfying running with a group of people who were also writing their wills in their heads. There was the sound of a chainsaw; and John only ran faster, starting to out match his new found terror buddies. They raced up the staircase, dodging actors and trying to keep their attention only on the stairs and not the large fake spiders hanging on the ceiling, or the dismembered limbs hanging from the railing. When he got to the top of the staircase there seemed to be an odd sort of peace hanging over him, that darkness that had once more engulfed the hall in in an inky blankness. The only way John knew he was reunited with this pack of kids was because he could hear their breathing, loud and sharp, muttering swear words under their breaths as they looked onto the next challenge. To be honest John was feeling a lot braver with this pack of kids; it was almost as if he had to be brave to somehow show them all up, to be the one protecting not the one being protected.
"Well then...let's go." Muttered a voice next to him, a female voice, and they started marching on. As they walked farther and farther into the darkness John couldn't see a thing, he could only guess they went straight but to be honest he was at a loss. But as they got farther into the corridor, as they started to hear little scratching noises around them, John felt a soft hand slide into his own. He couldn't see who's it was and to be honest the culprit probably didn't know who he was either, it was just a miracle that they could even find John's hand in this darkness. But the hand was soft and delicate, and he could only guess that it was one of the girls from the group. So John didn't complain as they interlocked fingers, the fingernails cutting ever so slightly into his hand, the grip of fear, looking for someone to be of comfort. John felt rather accomplished now, and as they continued through the rest of the dark haunted house John felt incredibly brave. In fact it was like this hand was giving him more confidence, the idea that someone was more scared than he was, it was a breath of fresh air. So when finally John saw the bright glowing ember in front of them, the red light shining with the words EXIT, John knew that he was safe. He had done it, and maybe he was going to leave this place with a phone number after all.
"We did it." muttered the female voice again, and John nodded, not brave enough to offer his opinion at the moment, considering these people weren't his friends unless they all were in mortal peril.
"That wasn't that bad." decided another voice.
"Oh shut up, I saw you crying." laughed the first. Whoever was holding John's hand didn't give their opinion, and neither did John, so it was still a mystery as to who's hand he was holding. But even as they walked the home stretch, towards the sign, into the light, they didn't let go. They pushed the doors open and it was still equally dark outside, but John didn't care, he breathed the first breath of fresh, free air and felt like he could do it again. He could do it twenty times more; there was this adrenaline rush that was pumping his blood extra fast, his heart beating, his fingers twitching in excitement. It was only until he looked over at his companion did he start to get a little bit nervous. He expected a beautiful blonde girl, or at least that was what he was hoping for. So when he looked over and saw a scrawny boy with jet black curls and ghostly pale skin, John had to admit, he was a little bit disappointed. His first instinct was to jerk his hand away, and the boy jumped back a little bit when he saw John's sudden disgusted reaction.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know!" the boy said very quickly, scampering back a few steps as if John was about to hit him. The rest of the pack had moved on to get some snacks, and John suspected that this boy was just as aliened from the rest of the pack as John was. Now it was just them, in the middle of what seemed to be a deserted courtyard, the light of the moon mixing with the light of the lamps overhead. The only sounds were the bugs flying into the lamps, smacking against the glass as they tried to reach the warmth. John took a step back rather awkwardly, instinctively scratching at the back of his neck and looking down at the ground. He didn't want to get a closer look at this boy, because not only was he scared but he was beautiful.
"I'm sorry." The boy muttered again. "I was scared; I couldn't see...a bit of a stupid idea looking back."
"It's alright, I'm not mad at you or anything." John assured. The boy looked rather hopeful, and John raised his eyes up just in time to get smacked in the face with the world's most precious puppy dog eyes. There was a mixture of blue and green swimming in his irises, illuminated by the light shining down on his porcelain skin. John's heart started to beat faster once more, but this time he didn't think it was about the fear.
"My name's John, John Watson." John muttered rather awkwardly, holding out his hand for the new boy to shake. The boy looked at him with a very confused expression, as if trying to tell if John was being serious or not. But slowly he held up his hand, and for the second time that night he let his hand fall into John's. Slowly they shook hands, and their eye contact never broke once, it just got more and more intense, until John was sure this boy could see his intentions through his corneas.
"Sherlock Holmes." The boy muttered. John nodded, looking down at his feet awkwardly.
"Well Sherlock Holmes, you have very soft hands." John muttered, the only thing he could possibly think to say. Sherlock just laughed rather timidly.
"Yours are rather rough." He decided. John nodded in agreement, Sherlock wasn't the first one to notice John needed to moisturize.
"Are you still scared?" John wondered, seeing the nervous look in Sherlock's eye, not unlike that of a cat that's about to dart.
"No, not scared." Sherlock muttered almost guiltily.
"Well, how about this..." John muttered, pulling out his phone with a little smile. "I'll give you my number, and in case you're scared later on, or, I don't know, Friday night, you can give me a call, and I'll come hold your hand again." John offered. Sherlock just laughed rather timidly, looking at John with a very startled expression.
"You're not serious?" he muttered, as if not able to believe it.
"Do I look like I'm joking?" John wondered, and Sherlock just shook his head very rapidly, so fast his curls flew all over the place and he had to push them out of his forehead.
"No, no you don't. God I hope you're not joking." Sherlock agreed, taking his phone out of his pocket as well. John just smiled at him as they exchanged numbers, hoping that this wouldn't be the last time he got to gaze at the beautiful face of Sherlock Holmes. So as Sherlock's friends came and reclaimed him, and John finally found Greg, who was looking rather disappointed, he was able to march out of that place with his head held high, knowing that he had both conjured his fears and got a date for next Friday. You know what, maybe haunted houses aren't the most practical form of entertainment, but they certainly aren't as bad as he previously thought.