A Chance To Stay Alive - Johnlock

15) M is for Murder

"I've got him boss just like you asked," Sebastian said gruffly, stopping promptly in front of Jim, with John struggling by his side.
"Thank you tiger," Jim cooed, leaning back against the wall cooly.
Sherlock stared on at the scene in front of him, his blue eyes widening and his expression one of shock. John was one of his best friends, his only friend. The curly-haired boy couldn't bare to see him in any pain. Sherlock instinctively took a step forward towards his roommate however Sebastian pushed the gun deeper into John's head as soon as his foot touched the ground.
"Careful there Sherlock," Moriarty teased, waggling his tongue.
"One false move and it may risk the life of your little pet."
Sherlock's face fell into a deep scowl and he watched his flatmate with a helpless expression.
"Let him go," he hissed through gritted teeth.
The Irish man, turned to face the curly-haired man and held both hands up in defence.
"You heard the man Seb, let him go."
Sebastian bit his lip for a moment and gave a small scoff before letting go of the blonde boy, watching as he stumbled to the floor. The sniper gave a final kick at John, watching him roll to the side, before stepping back and turning his gaze to Sherlock. The curly-haired man immediately rushed over to his friend and crouched down beside him, ignoring the burning sensation that had developed in his legs. He watched the blood trickle from John's nose before taking his hand and helping him to his feet.
"Are you okay?" He whispered anxiously.
John wiped his nose with his sleeve and grimaced at Jim and Sebastian.
"Could be better," he admitted, wincing slightly.
"He broke in just as I was sitting down in the lounge. Can't say I was too thrilled."

The raven-haired man gave a small chuckle before folding his arms, a defiant smirk on his pale face.
"Of course we saw everything that you did in that little flat of yours," he hummed casually.
Sherlock stared down at the man; his eyes widening in sudden realisation.
"I got Seb to plant the cameras whilst you were out."
John's head immediately snapped around to stare at the man, his face tired but alert.
"That's not possible," the blonde boy exclaimed, his voice rising in desperation.
"I would of still been at 221b! And so would have Mrs Hudson!"
Moriarty's lip quickly curled into a sadistic smile.
"The tea Mrs Hudson gave you, did it taste a bit funny?" He asked mockingly, Sebastian laughing alongside him.
"We put a drug in it, knocks the drinker out for a few hours. You assumed John was just hangover when in reality he was drugged."
A silence spread across the cathedral for a second; Sherlock and John both equally stood in disbelief. It wasn't until long before John launched himself onto the raven-haired boy.

"You did all of that!" He cried furiously, his words echoing around the empty hall.
John grabbed for Jim and initially attempted to punch at him; the Irish man's expression one of shock an surprise.
"You put up the posters! All of this w-was you!"
Sherlock quickly pulled the revolver out from his pocket and aimed it closely at Moriarty's head; watching as Sebastian quickly strode over, grabbing John and pulling him back. The sniper held the blonde boy calmly by his neck as Jim frustratedly brushed the dirt from his suit and took out his own gun from his blazer pocket. He twirled it around silently in his hand for a moment before frowning upon Sherlock.
"Westwood," he said disapprovingly.

The two men silently faced each-other, guns pointing at each-other's heads.
"Now I don't usually like getting my hands dirty," Jim cooed.
"But this here is a special occasion."
Sherlock gave a small scoff; his pulse raising as his finger crept to the trigger. In reality, the curly-haired boy just wanted to get John out of here so that he was at last safe.
"How charming," Sherlock replied snidely.
The two blonde boys watched from the safety of afar: Sebastian still holding John in a tight headlock to stop him from leaving. The Irish man bowed his head slightly and began to circle around Sherlock, chuckling slightly.
"Very true," he admitted.
"But why don't we spice things up a bit?"
Jim immediately turned his gaze to John Watson and pointed the gun at his heart. Sherlock's eyes immediately flashed with panic and a sickness feeling rose in his stomach. The boy's legs were in agony and he felt sick as a dog but he wasn't going to let this happen to his best friend.

The curly-haired boy suddenly turned to Moriarty and lowered his gun.
"What do you want from me then?" He hissed.
Jim stepped forward at Sherlock's words, his breathing hot against the other boy's neck.
"I want you, Mr Holmes."
Repulsed, Sherlock at once leapt back from Jim, lifting the revolver in his hand and firing it at the stained-glass window; aiming to cause a distraction. The sudden smashing of glass was enough to send Moriarty flying round to find where the noise was coming from, leaving Sherlock to go after John. The curly-haired boy quickly slipped his gun back into his pocket and made his way towards his roommate, watching from the corner off his eye as the glass panels ricocheted back against Jim.
"Jim wait!" Sebastian called gruffly to the Irish man, letting go of John and heading after his boss.
John stumbled towards Sherlock and for a moment the two boys embraced in a hug; a very uncommon thing however neither said anything.
"Thanks," the blonde boy mumbled appreciatively, stepping back and gazing at Sherlock for a minute before turning away.
A small smile tugged at Sherlock's lips as he to stepped back.

"Let's get out of here," he decided, nodding towards the double doors of the cathedral. John quickly nodded in agreement and held to Sherlock's coat as the two attempted to sneak their way out of the Cathedral.
"Bastards."
The small growl came from behind and both boys were initially shocked until they turned to see Sebastian stood before them, gun grasped in his hand. Jim sat behind him, a shard of glass evidently lodged in his shoulder, which gave satisfaction to John and terror to Sherlock. The sniper raised his revolver and carelessly shot it. The curly-haired boy grabbed John tightly and pulled him down to safety, lifting his own gun and immediately firing back.
"We need to go," he called to John in all of the confusion.
The blonde boy gave a swift nod and together the two got to their feet, sprinting through the doors.

The bitter cold night air blasted their faces as both Sherlock and John stumbled out into the graveyard, panting for breath and doubled over. "Are you okay?" Sherlock asked his roommate skeptically, scanning him up and down.
"Course," John sighed, his voice trailing off as he noticed that the curly-haired boy's face was now extremely pale in colour and that he was trembling.
"S-Sherlock?" He asked quietly, panic rising in his chest.
"Are you ill?"
However it was only a few seconds before Sherlock came crashing down onto the cold ground below. Unconscious. 

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