Dean kept a close eye on Sam as he worked. Finally the were pretty sure it was down to an isolated farmhouse in Iowa. He could tell his brother was nearing exhaustion.
“Sam get some sleep,” said Dean, watching the house. “We’ll hit it at dusk.” He checked his gun and sat down to keep watch.
“…I’m going to gut whatever did this,” Sam said vehemently, though his eyes were starting to close on their own. He slid down in his seat, resting his head against the glass. “Hang in there, Jack. Just a little longer."
He was asleep in minutes.
The house stayed quiet as Dean watched, trying not to think about what could be happening to Jack inside. But if they went charging in they might all get killed, and odds were Sam and himself wouldn’t come back. He suspected Jack wouldn’t forgive himself for getting Sam killed, mostly because he felt the same way. Whatever was between Sam and Jack, it was special, even he could (stubbornly) admit that.
Finally he judged it was late enough. He checked his gun and glanced at Sam’s sleeping form, worry pinching his features even in sleep. He shook his foot. "Come on, let’s move.”
Just a little thing in my head today. It’s intended to be after they get back to Baker Street after a study in pink.
On the Threshold – Meeting Sherlock has been whirlwind, makes sense they wouldn’t get up the stairs before their first time.
teaser below the cut
John led the way into Baker Street. What a difference two days made. He glanced back at the mad detective, wondering about how much faith the man had placed in him.
That trust went both ways. John climbed two stairs and stopped, turning around to meet Sherlock’s eyes. He studied John’s face, searching. John licked his lips slowly. Leaning forward, Sherlock cupped his face and kissed him cautiously.
John kissed him back, moaning softly. This all felt as inevitable as thunder after lightning. Or perhaps Spring after Winter would be more apt. In the depths of February, Spring always seemed impossibly far.
But here was Spring, thawing warmth that eased the ache in his bones. Perhaps he was having the same affect on Sherlock. The man pulled back to look into the depth of John’s eyes, hands dropping to his waist.
The Sign of Four, 1890.
Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.
forsciencejohn:
#granada #i’m convinced that watson over-exaggerated holmes’ aversion to emotion and love #so that scotland yard didn’t arrest them haha
people who ship two characters from completely separate films or series are metal as fuck like they will literally never have any canonical interaction between their otp and they still believe in their true and perfect love like bless you guys you are some hardcore romantics