ariadne_chan: (johnlock)
[personal profile] ariadne_chan
Title: “The Captain John Watson.”
Author: [livejournal.com profile] ariadnechan
Rating: PG.
Fandom: Sherlock BBC.
Characters: 1650 approx
Summary: Kidnapped again? John was not amused, maybe his captors didn’t know the problem they were in.
Warnings: Bamf John, quote chose in Spanish, but with translation.
Word Count: 1650 approx.
Author's Notes: Prompt for[livejournal.com profile] watsons_woes #27: Like Gold To Airy Thinness Beat :
Pick up the book you're currently reading (or the closest one to you). Pick a random page, and find a description or simile. Use that - and be sure to tell us what your original description is, and what's the source:
I said to you that English is my second language right, well this is what you get, but don’t worry I translated in the first paragraph of the fic.

“Como dormía de espaldas, no lo sorprendió la posición en que volvía a
reconocerse, pero en cambio el olor a humedad, a piedra rezumante de
filtraciones, le cerró la garganta y lo obligó a comprender. Inútil abrir los ojos y
mirar en todas direcciones; lo envolvía una oscuridad absoluta. Quiso enderezarse
y sintió las sogas en las muñecas y los tobillos. Estaba estaqueado en el suelo, en
un piso de lajas helado y húmedo. El frío le ganaba la espalda desnuda, las
piernas. Con el mentón buscó torpemente el contacto con su amuleto, y supo que
se lo habían arrancado.”

Julio Cortazar “La Noche Boca Arriba” page 5. (This autor is very good)

Author's Notes 2: The first paragraph of this fic is the translation of this with the addition of John on it.
Beta: Now betaed by the amazing [livejournal.com profile] mildred_bobbin.
Master Fic for this challenge: on LJ



John slept on his back, so he wasn’t surprised about the position in which he had awoken, but the humidity in the air, the odour of rock filled with water for several years, made him close his mouth and brought him back to reality. It was futile to open his eyes and try to look in any direction; because he was overwhelmed by the pitch darkness. He tried to move, and he felt the ropes on his wrists and his ankles that immobilised him to the ground of polished, humid and cold stone slabs. The icy cold of the stone was permeating into his naked back and legs. With his chin he looked awkwardly for physical contact with his amulet, and then John knew they had ripped it away from him.


He tried to concentrate on his hearing and he heard some cries from another nearby room. John was not sure about his location, but it had to be a very old structure, an old castle or something similar. John didn’t know how he had reached this place, who had abducted him, or why.


John concentrated on his respiration using his military training and forgot about his body and tried to think about what he remembered last.


They weren't on any case at the moment, but Sherlock had gone to the Yard for a new one, while John was at the clinic. John remembered that Sherlock had given him an amulet with GPS, but he didn't have it now, obviously his captors had noticed what the amulet was for.



John tried to remember the exact moment of his capture. He had left the clinic for lunch, but from the moment he reached the corner everything after that became black. The most bizarre part of the situation was that he didn't notice anything strange or someone following him, and he was good at noticing that kind of thing, so his captors were some level of professional.


John decided to vocalize ‘a’ to follow the sound and determine approximately the size of the room. After some minutes he'd determinate that it wasn't so large but more than anything it was high. John was definitely in some sort of castle, so very far away from London.


He moved his wrist with care to find out how well the knot was secured. It wasn't as good as he first thought so maybe he could loosen them without breaking a finger. After twenty minutes he could loosen them enough to take his hands out of the bind. He sat up and without hearing anything coming his way, he started to open the knot of his right ankle and then the one of the left. He continued to focus his hearing for anything dangerous, apparently his captors had thought he was only a doctor, so underestimated him, and that's why he was left unguarded until they need him, or maybe he was bait? He would not give them the pleasure, if he could escape thank you very much.


John then felt the stakes where the rope was knotted and the one for the right leg was lose and made of iron, so with infinite patience trying not to make no sound John took it out, it was at least 15 cms. long and 5 cms. of diameter. Now with the stake as a weapon, he joined the ropes and wore them as a belt. He crawled while vocalizing until he found a wall, and then he stood and followed the wall until he found an opening, the door. John found the hinges; they were big and old, John used his new weapon as leverage and with several failed attempts and hand bruises he finally made it and he opened the door very stealthily.


On the other side, in a poor lit corridor, John saw that there were several rooms like the one he had been in. In one of them he heard noises he approached it and tried to listen.


“We are bored with your explanations, you will tell us now what we want to know Mr Harker or you are going to suffer, now the only thing I want to hear from your mouth is.”

“Where can I find Mycroft Holmes?” A deep voice asked.


“I really don't know I told you all I knew, if you want him, you must take his little brother, the detective and the better way to have Sherlock Holmes is through his doctor friend, the one with the blog, I don't know anything more of use. You can't really enter Home office and extract him from there don't you think? And he is never alone when he leaves the office, I don't know where he lives, or anything else except he would do anything for his brother, and the only weakness of his brother is his precious blogger. Please leave alone, or kill me now, I don’t know anything.” A very tired high pitched voice answered.


This was new, John thought, now he was kidnapped because of Mycroft and not for him. He was bloody fed up with the Holmes’s brothers. It was nice off course that people thought that Sherlock will do anything for him.


John decided that this Harker guy was not worth his health, so he continued along the corridor until he found stairs lit by a torch. He decided to go up, there was light that way.


John reached a big room well illuminated and empty, surely because the guys were in the torture interrogation business. There was a map of the site around the castle, the guards’ shifts a radio, a pair of boots and a hand torch. But no phone and no clothes, the boots were a little big, but walking without shoes was not a good idea, so he put some paper in the boots so he could walk more comfortably and copy the shifts and the map. From what he had deduced he was still underground so he decided to try his luck up. Now he had his unorthodox weapon, he put the pen, the torch and the radio in his new boots and continued his journey, it would be discovered soon that he had escaped, so he had little time.


Finally John found a guard, he knocked him out with his weapon and strangled him until he passed out for sure. John looked for a room and then he got clothes at last a gun and a phone from the guard. So he looked where he was, he was in bloody Scotland! John used the ropes he had from his cell and bound the bloke very tight and gagged him, he tried to call Holmes but it was not use, so he send him a text with his location, the same to Greg and another to Mycroft with a warning about his captors; and then put the phone on vibrate. Now he needed to get out of the castle and wait.


It was not so difficult to get out of the castle, he incapacitated two more guards, changed shoes for ones more his size and went into the nearby forest. The commotion of his escape never came, but there was some fuss in the morning because of the disappearance of the three guards. But before they could add one plus one, the helicopters and special ops. were everywhere so John got out of his hiding place to greet the rescue party.


He gave them his map, the schedules, the radio and asked for something to eat; he was starving! There was shooting and fire while John and Mycroft took tea and scones, and John explained what he heard and what he knew.


“Sherlock is on his way, but he didn't accept my invitation to come with me,” said Mycroft feigning sadness.


“Sherlock doesn't trust you, Mycroft, and I don’t either, now I got kidnapped because of you! I was only lucky because these blokes didn't know who I was.” John was really mad at the moment.


“I wonder, John, why didn't you take them down yourself? I know you could,” said Mycroft, lifting an eyebrow.


“Really Mycroft, they are your problem, not mine, and I couldn't come back home from bloody Scotland by myself, could I?” said John a little angry because really this was the entirely the elder Holmes fault.


“Sometimes I wonder if my brother really knows what kind of man he has as a flatmate, I think he still believes you are an army doctor, right John?” He said with a smug smile, Mycroft loved to demonstrate he was better than Sherlock, but he had better access to information, so it was not so fair after all.


“Yes, I never corrected him, and he never asked about my past and I prefer it this way really; so please take your Intel with you, Captain Watson of the Fifth special ops. was invalided and he would not take the Queen's call back now, I'm good where I am, thank you very much.”


“Fine John, I appreciate where you are too, so don't worry about it.” Mycroft played with his umbrella but John got the message that he was safe about been called by the army or MI5 or whatever.


In that moment a jeep parked and a frantic Sherlock Holmes ran to where Mycroft and John were.


“John, are you fine? Were you tortured? Let me see you.” Sherlock hugged him, but soon recovered his composure after noticing his brother presence.


“I’m fine Sherlock I’m only bruised and I’m sure I caught a cold, those blokes left me without clothes in a bloody dungeon. But I’m ok now.” John felt warmed to see his mad detective again, he was happy to know Sherlock was indeed worried about him.


“In that case, let go home John, The Game is on.” Sherlock was radiating energy and he looked beautiful like that.


John followed Sherlock who started to fill him in on the new case; John felt at home again and smiled to himself.

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