[Will do. JW] And. As Sherlock would so proudly boast, the game was on. Of course, he'd have to inform Mary of the Sherlock Holmes-Watson —

— subject at hand, he looking to her as he grasps a coat and heads to the door. “Sherlock has gotten himself in another Sherlock Holmes-Watson —

— bloody rut. I'll be back when I can be. . .” And off the doctor goes, he hailing a taxi and making his way to the Sherlock Holmes-Watson —

— complex, he wasting no time in entering the building, attentive hues searching for that drugged detective of his. [Sherlock Holmes-Watson]

Bloody hell. John /hated/ seeing Sherlock Holmes-Watson like this. It had been all too apparent many times before tonight. Watson, pacing to —

— locate a bottle of water, brings it over to the drug induced Sherlock Holmes-Watson. With a single movement, he empties its confines all over —

— Sherlock Holmes-Watson. “Sherlock bloody Holmes! List. Now.” He boasts in an angered tone, voice low with an almost lethal sense of —

— authority, all to cover up a pained emotion. Seeing Sherlock Holmes-Watson all drugged up broke his heart, and would always do so.

“Sherlock. . .” Fuck. He wasn't sure what to do, but he did know that Sherlock Holmes-Watson needed water, and needed to remain awake. —

— Waltzing back towards the water, he grasps another bottle between slender extremities, kneeling down to pour a few Sherlock Holmes-Watson —

— sips into Sherlock Holmes-Watson's mouth, keeping the man's head propped up. Idle digits descend into curled locks, he practically holding —

— Sherlock Holmes-Watson. “List. Sherlock, I need that list. I need you to stay awake.”

No. No. No. Being so outraged, the doctor keeps quiet, texting a picture of the list to Mycroft, as he was told Sherlock Holmes-Watson —

— to keep him updated. “Up.” John was furious and worried, hues gleaming with a sheen; a hint of pain wishing to Sherlock Holmes-Watson —

— flow forth. Whether Sherlock Holmes-Watson liked it or not, Watson cared about him; that's why he'd always nag and scold him. It was like —

— his job. Slender extremities work over Sherlock Holmes-Watson's slender form, placing the coat he had brought with him atop the detective.

Not safe? What? Did Sherlock Holmes-Watson know something that John didn't know? He highly doubted it. Holmes was probably in some state —

— of paranoia for all he knew, but. . he had to ask. “Why is John not safe?” He ponders forth, he not even sure if Sherlock Holmes-Watson knew —

— that he was talking to Watson; to him. These may be delusions, but he desired to know why Sherlock Holmes-Watson thought he wasn't safe.

❝I'ᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴏᴛʜ ғᴏʀ ᴅɪɴɴᴇʀ.❞ —❖. Fem Hannibal Lecter. Crossovers welcomed. —❖. Explicit content. Acquainted with character. RT?