(OH I KNOW
okay so John gets kidnapped and taken to a dungeon but sherlock makes it out and gets back to the castle to confront Jim. Jim gives him some sort of puzzle to solve, and then sherl finds john and we go from there…)
Nah they should stick together
kay so like, they both get kidnapped?
(OH I KNOW
okay so John gets kidnapped and taken to a dungeon but sherlock makes it out and gets back to the castle to confront Jim. Jim gives him some sort of puzzle to solve, and then sherl finds john and we go from there…)
Nah they should stick together
kay so like, they both get kidnapped?
Yep.
Kidnapping is something true friends stick together for. Lol.
Making his way out of the hollow, John stood up and stretched. He could hear Sherlock scrambling out behind him. "Well" said John, turning to his best friend. "That certainly went well, we-" A rough cloth was pressed up again his face from behind. John struggled, his arms clawing at his captor's arms. Sherlock jumped to his feet.
"Sleep." said the man in the black hood, and John Watson sank to his knees, his vision blurred.
Sherlock was also taken down. When they woke up, they we're in the unused section of the dungeons. "John, where are you?" Sherlock asked in the darkness.
John shook his head, trying to clear his mind. "I- I'm here." Shifting, he went to rub his head, but his arms were held back by chains that connected to… something, John wasn't sure. He was sitting on a dirty pile of hay, leaning against a cold stone wall. "Sherlock, are you alright? Did they hurt you?"
"As far as I can tell, no, but there is a lot of bruising. I'm chained to the wall. Have you got a hairpin, a nail, something along those lines?" Sherlock asked, thanking whatever God there was out there that he knew how to pick locks.
John cleared his throat. "Sherlock, why on earth would I have a hairpin?"
"You… what about a nail? Is there one around here somewhere? I could pick the locks, just find something for me."
"John, nail. Even a rusted one will do."
John took a deep breath and plunged his hands down into the pile of straw. Rummaging around, he felt something move against his fingers. Quickly pulling his hands out, he swallowed hard. "S-Sherlock?"
"Yes John?" he asked.
"Th-There's, um, something in here with us." John said, voice trembling.
"What is it John?" Sherlock sighed.
"I dunno, but it's, uh, moving around? Oh no. It can't be a- …d'ya think it's a rat?"
"It's entirely possible. Nail. Now." Sherlock said, exasperated.
"I like rats. We'll be fine. They aren't scary at all."
John muttered a few choice insults under his breath and continued feeling around for the nail. Why did Sherlock insist on- "Ow!" a sharp pain on his finger made him yank his hand back, cradling it close to his chest. "Sherlock! That stupid rat just bit me!"
'John, Madame Pomfrey can take care of it but there isn't anything to pick a lock with in my area. Help me out, please?"
John rummaged around for a few more minutes while Sherlock impatiently rattled his chains. Finally his fingers closed on something sharp. Pulling it up, he handed it to his friend. "I… I think that's actually a piece of wood? But it's thin and sharp, so you'll have to make do."
"Close enough." Sherlock muttered, picking the lock of his chains and then his friend's chains.
John rubbed his wrists, the skin sore from the metal cuffs. "What now? I mean…" He trailed off as he looked around the dark cell. "How do we get out of here? And.. where are we anyways?"
"Dungeon. An unused part of it, given the smell."
John sniffed the damp air and made a disgusted face. "How long have we been here?"
"Oh, I would say three, four hours? Most of that time was spent unconscious, of course."
John rubbed his face, dejected. "That's… embarrassing. We should get back to our common rooms - if we don't check in soon with our prefects we'll get in a ton of trouble."
"Well, let's try the door. It's probably locked but who knows?"
(Hello?)
"That's… okay. At this point I'm willing to do anything if it means we stay out of trouble."