Maybe I'm Amazed (Unilock) Chapter 10

WARNING: Future chapters in this story will contain slash, some male on male sexual content, and mentions of violence. If this bothers you, then please don't read the story. Thank you!!

AN at the bottom!

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With no possibility of separating from John, Sherlock's options were now limited. He couldn't think of any other way that he could safely try to confront him without John getting into trouble. If he went on his own, someone would come after John while he was gone. If he took John with him, someone would kill him before he could do anything. It was beginning to look as if they were simply on a timer,waiting for the moment when Sherlock would make a mistake and bring about John's destruction. There had to be another way, if only he could find it.

He decided that the best course of action for the moment was to go back to school. This way they would be away from his father and in a place where he felt a little more safe. They packed up quickly and Sherlock said goodbye to his mother and Mycroft, the latter of whom implored that he keep in touch.

Rather than taking a cab, Sherlock had one of their drivers take them, during the early morning hours so that it was less likely they'd be seen leaving. They were back at the school before sunrise and Sherlock pulled John quickly into their flat, locking the door behind them. He then proceeded to lock all the windows, dropping the blinds, leaving the lights dim, and peering out to see if they had been followed.

John was a bit unnerved by all the precautions, but he tried not to let it get to him. He went into the kitchen to make some tea, wanting a distraction. Sherlock, meanwhile, occupied himself by watching the few cars that were passing, looking for any sign of suspicion. But none of them seemed to be acting strangely. They were okay. For now.

John returned to the living room about ten minutes later with the tea and set it down on the coffee table. "Sher," he said softly, coming towards him. "You're making me scared. Come here and relax."

Sherlock turned to John, chewing his lip. Even though it looked as if there was nothing going on, if he turned away for even a moment, he might miss something. But he could see that his boyfriend was looking uneasy, and worried about him as always. With a little sigh, he made his way over to the couch and sat, still incredibly tense.

John scooted closer to the other boy and handed him his cup of tea. "Drink. It will make you feel better," he said, and slipped an arm behind his back.

Sherlock took the cup with slightly shaky hands and took a sip. But he just couldn't relax. It was making him quiet again, this overwhelming fear. More quiet than usual. He wouldn't even lean into John, not wanting to let his guard down at all in case he needed to jump up and take action.

"Sherlock." John reached out and ran his fingers through Sherlock's hair. "Please, love. It's alright. We're okay." He continued to massage Sherlock's scalp slowly, hoping it would get his boyfriend to calm.

The term of endearment and gentle movement of John's fingers did make Sherlock's shoulders droop a bit, but his eyes were ever alert, and he kept them flicking around the room; to the door, the windows, the hall, anywhere where someone might come through.

Seeing that his boyfriend wasn't anywhere near calming down, John sighed and just continued his movements. It wasn't as if he wasn't scared himself; knowing that someone was after them, after him really, wasn't a thought to help you fall asleep at night. But he was trying not to let his fears get the better of him. Perhaps it was his father's influence, but panic wasn't his first instinct so he was doing his best to keep his cool.

After a while, John wrapped his arms around the other boy and tried to arrange them so they were lying down together on the sofa. Sherlock resisted, however, shaking John's arms off and trying to stay sitting up. "Sherlock," John tried, but the other boy was basically ignoring him. "Come on, Sherlock, really." He put his hands on the other boy's shoulders, but again he was brushed off. Frowning, John finally grabbed his face in both hands. "Sherlock Holmes, will you listen to me!"

Finally, the dark-haired boy gave him a sharp, frantic look, although his eyes were still trying to glance around the room. "No, look at me," John demanded. He waited until Sherlock's eyes stayed locked with his for more than a few seconds before speaking again. "I know how helpless you feel right now. I feel that way too. But you can't let him control you."

Sherlock bit his lip, eyes now only flicking between John's and the other parts of his face. "John..."

"Whatever happens, we'll handle it when the time comes. I know you'll do all you can to protect me, and I'll do my damnedest to protect you too. As long as we're together, we'll be alright." John attempted a smile and gave Sherlock a kiss, during which he felt some of the tension in Sherlock's face release. When he pulled away, he left his forehead to Sherlock's. "I love you. Don't you ever forget that, okay?"

Sherlock's bottom lip was trembling and he was still a nervous wreck, but he nodded once. "Love," he whispered, then buried his face back into John's shoulder. He just wanted to stay like this and not move, in the hopes that their stillness would hide them. John took the opportunity to move them into a lying position, and held Sherlock close. It wasn't long before he fell asleep, and John followed quickly after.

~<:.MIA.:>~

As the weeks went by, it seemed that nothing would happen. Sherlock made sure that he escorted John to all his classes, and after every class he was there to pick him up. They only ate at the flat and once they were in for the night Sherlock insisted that they didn't go out again until morning. He often watched the streets as he had that first morning when they came back, sometimes well into the night, and John would go to bed alone. In spite of John's efforts, and seemingly getting through to him in the beginning, the longer they went without incident, the more panicked he became.

John missed him. Although they spent nearly every waking moment together, they might as well have been living on opposite sides of the planet. In fact, John could hardly remember the last time they'd really kissed besides quick little pecks. He knew that it was because Sherlock loved him that he was acting this way, but he was feeling rather neglected.

One night he'd finally had enough. He was determined to get some attention and to get Sherlock to forget about this whole ordeal for just one day. "Sher..." he said and walked towards the other boy who was at the window once again. "Why don't you take a break? You've been at it all day." John put his hands on Sherlock's shoulders and started to massage them.

Sherlock stayed stiff for a moment, but it was impossible to completely resist John's hands; they were quite skilled in working his muscles. Slowly but surely, Sherlock let himself relax and leaned back into the touch.

John hummed in approval and bent to kiss the side of Sherlock's neck. "If you come to bed, I can work on more than just your shoulders," he murmured and nipped the other boy's earlobe. "Would you like that, love?" He kept his lips moving between Sherlock's ear and neck, knowing he'd be able to reduce him to putty soon enough.

Sherlock let out a soft sound, almost like a purr, and nodded. This made John smirk, and he straightened up. "Meet me in the bedroom then," he said, and when Sherlock turned around to give him a lustful look, he bent to take his lips in a long kiss. He pulled away and licked his lips. "Don't keep me waiting too long," he whispered with a wink and then went to the bedroom, feeling rather pleased with himself.

Sherlock was left slightly breathless and in spite of his better judgment, their lack of activity over the past few weeks was quickly winning out. Taking a small break couldn't hurt, right? Nothing was happening.

His phone buzzed a moment later. Thinking it might be a sexy text from John, he smiled and opened the message, but it immediately melted to horror.

'Do it, and I'll get him through the window.'

Now Sherlock really couldn't breathe. God no. He sprinted to the bedroom and straight to the window, looking out at the surrounding rooftops and down to the street below. It didn't seem like anyone was there. But he was a crafty one, and he'd never let it be so plain. Bugs. He must have bugged the flat when they were in class one day. There was no other option; they had to leave, pack up and run before it was too late. He went to the closet and pulled out the luggage, starting to throw clothes in.

Of course, he'd hardly taken notice of John, who was kneeling on the bed waiting for him. But when he saw the way his boyfriend was flitting around, he got up and went over to him."Sher? What's wrong?" he asked gently and touched his shoulder.

Sherlock jumped at John's touch, whirling around, something he hadn't done since they had first moved in together. He stared at him wildly for a moment before speaking. "Pack." He went to the back to stuffing shirts haphazardly into the suitcase.

John stared at Sherlock in confusion. "What? Why? What happened?" The dark-haired boy still wasn't really listening to him, so John grabbed his arm and made him stop. "Sherlock!"

Sherlock was breathing heavily, and couldn't find words to explain. Instead, he pulled out his phone and fumbled for a moment before showing it to John with the text on the screen.

John's eyes widened and he swallowed. He looked around the room quickly, but then realised that he wouldn't be able to find anything, so he turned his attention back to Sherlock. "But Sherlock..."

Sherlock immediately went back to packing, but groaned in frustration when he couldn't get his shoes into the case. He gave up after a moment, waving his hands. They could buy clothes, he had a credit card. He tugged John with him, going to get their coats.

"Wait, Sherlock, wait. What are you doing?" John pulled his arm away and tried to get Sherlock to stay still for two seconds. "How are we supposed to leave? We just started the semester. And where do you think we're going to go?"

That did give Sherlock pause. Where were they going to go? They couldn't go back to his parents' house, and not to John's either; he didn't want them to get involved. The only thing he could think to do now was- "Run."

"Sorry what?" John crossed his arms over his chest. "So, we're supposed to just not live our lives? We keep running until he catches us? Never be intimate again?" Sherlock's mouth opened a little, though he didn't know what he was going to say, if he could manage anything. "I'm not going to do it, Sherlock. I'm not going to let him take over our lives." He stormed over to the window and opened it, leaning out slightly. "Did you hear that, pyscho? I'm not letting you control us! You won't win!" he screamed, ignoring the looks he got from a couple passing by on the street.

Sherlock felt his heart stop at John's actions, expecting any second to hear a shot and watch John's body go limp. Was he crazy? Did he wanted to get killed? Thankfully, and shockingly, nothing happened, and he snapped from his stupor to jump forward and pull John back in.

John shook Sherlock off and turned to face him again, looking angry. "I'm tired of this, Sherlock. I'm tired of being scared and I'm tired of bending to every whim of some nutter who you won't tell me anything about. I don't even know why he's trying to kill me!" he cried, throwing his arms up in the air.

Sherlock was still looking at John, eyes shining with fear, mouth slightly agape. He would have told John, but...There was just too much. It was so much more complicated than he knew. "John. Please," he whispered finally, silently communicating all he couldn't say. That he couldn't bear the thought of losing him.

"No," John said firmly. "We are not leaving" He walked out of the bedroom and toward the sitting room, and Sherlock followed quickly behind, not knowing what he was planning to do. When he saw the other boy getting his coat, his eyes widened. No, no, he wasn't going to- "I'm going for a walk," John said, confirming what he was thinking, and therefore his worst fears. "Please don't follow me."

Sherlock grabbed his wrist and looked at him desperately. He could be right outside, waiting. He could kill him the second he stepped out of the door. But John was determined, stubborn as always. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Sherlock... I'm not going to live my life in fear of this psycho. I need some air." He pulled away from Sherlock again and opened the door, walking down the stairs and off to the street.

The dark-haired boy was left with his heart hammering in trepidation. This couldn't be happening. How could John be so stupid? Well, he certainly wasn't going to let him go out there without watching him. Grabbing his own coat, he gave John only a moment's head start before trailing out behind him. He walked with a light step so John wouldn't notice he was there, and kept a few metres of distance just so he could keep an eye on the other boy.

~<:.MIA.:>~

John walked down the street with his hands shoved in his pockets. It was ridiculous, living constantly in fear. Anything could happen to anyone, even without some maniac coming after them. That didn't mean that you shouldn't live. And to think, they weren't even 'allowed' to do anything together without getting threatened...Some part of him hoped that he came, so that John could punch him in the face.

Although, maybe he was a bit rash, going out on his own like this, especially at night. He chewed his lip, looking around as nonchalantly as he could manage. But the only thing he saw was the lamppost where he and Sherlock had raced to all those weeks ago. He smiled faintly. That was the first time he'd spoken...

John sighed and shook his head. Maybe he should go back and make sure Sherlock wasn't too upset. As he was about turn around to head back to flat, a cab pulled up to the curb next to him. The window rolled down and a young man smiled out at him. "Need a ride, chum?"

"Uh, no thanks. I can walk from here," John said with a weak smile, starting to walk.

The man laughed and then his face turned suddenly serious. "I wasn't giving you an option." He opened the door, which slammed into John's hip. The blonde cried out and collapsed to the ground, and another man popped out of the backseat to gather John up. He tried to resist, but with the pain in his hip he didn't have the strength. He was thrown into the trunk and within seconds the cab was speeding off.

His eyes were open, visible darkness surrounding him. Okay, stay calm. Don't panic. But it was becoming increasingly hard when he was trapped in a trunk that had no inside latch, and nothing with which he could try to attempt an escape. He felt around for anything, even tried to punch out the tail lights, but it was impossible. And for the first time since they had come back to the school, he felt like he was going to die.

~<:.MIA.:>~

Sherlock had stopped at a nearby bench, watching carefully. And of course, he'd seen the whole thing. He had opened his mouth to shout, but he could see his face...It struck him silent. He was frozen to the spot until the cab started to pull away.

He wanted to chase after the car, but he knew there was no point to it, it was too fast for him. And there were no other cabs anywhere. He...He'd lost John. Sherlock dropped to his knees, tears forming in his eyes. After he'd tried so hard to protect him...Why, why, why... "JOHN!!"