Burning Hearts 4/?

[prettybirdy979]

Title: Burning Hearts
Fandom: Cabin Pressure, Sherlock
Gene: Crossover, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Mystery, Fluff
Character/s: Sherlock, Martin, Mycroft, John, Douglas, Carolyn, Arthur, Lestrade, Moriarty, OCs and other minor Sherlock characters Rating: PG-13 
Summary: Round Two. Only this time, the stakes have changed... and so have the players.
Warnings: Violence. Bit of foul language. Spoiler for The Great Game.
Notes: Sequel to Thicker than Water. Reading that first will help understanding this fic.
On time... I'm surprised at myself. This is much longer than I thought it would be... this fic is looking to be much longer than I thought it would be. Next chapter should be up soonish.  Sorry about the screwed up formatting, LJ is being silly tonight and I can't fix it..

Thanks to Fifi for her betaing.

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three

One week ago

“Sherlock, what is it?” Sherlock was stalking around the flat, looking agitated, when John   returned home after work. He barely glanced at John, before continuing his route around the flat. John watched him for a moment, before flopping down in his chair. He went to flick the telly on, but Sherlock turned it off straight away so John sat and watched him in silence for a moment.

“New case?” he asked after the third round of the living room.

“Old one. I should have been called in two weeks ago.”

When he didn’t continue, John prompted “And? What’s the case?”

“Hmm?” Sherlock looked up, distracted by his thoughts. “Two bodies found dead, both of them with remarkable similarities to myself. Doppelgangers, if you wish. Both were shot through the head, and dressed in a coat and scarf similar to mine.”

John sat up, interested and slightly worried for his friend. “Are you in danger? Is this a threat against you?”

Sherlock was shaking his head before John had finished. “No, if it is anything, it’s an attempt to frame me. All the scenes had an odd message and my initials on them. Dull. But it caused Lestrade to overreact and restrict my access to the crime scenes.” “Sherlock-“ John rose out of his chair and stood before his friend, stopping his progress around the flat.

“Don’t worry John; I have airtight alibis for both murders. I was with Lestrade both times- which means these were planned to be obvious frames. But why? What point does it serve?” John recognised that Sherlock was thinking aloud and sat back down to allow him to continue his pacing. “You have my attention, but why these messages? They make no sense-“

John’s curiosity got the better of him. “What messages?”

“The Lion King and Saving Private Ryan. What point do those serve? Who is this 'Private Ryan' and what does a film about a lion have to do with it?”

John blinked. “You know The Lion King, but not Saving Private Ryan?”

Sherlock looked up. “Oh, so they’re both films. Interesting.” He suddenly sat down and grabbed John’s laptop; clearly researching the films.

“Didn’t Lestrade tell you that?”

“No, all he gave me were pictures of the scenes, sent by his private email. Sally clearly still suspects me, along with the majority of his team. How boring.”

John was still bemused. “You didn’t answer my question. How do you know The Lion King?”

Sherlock flicked his gaze to John for a moment before replying. “Martin. We weren’t children when it came out, but he felt like being childish. It was…a fun afternoon.”  He dropped his gaze back to the laptop and stiffened.  The colour in his face began to drain.

“Sherlock?” John asked, confused at his friend’s sudden fear. “What is it?”

Sherlock ignored him and stood stiffly, returning the laptop to its place on the table before dashing past John into his bedroom. John looked after him in confusion. A minute later he emerged, carrying a bag. “John, I have something important to do. I need you to stay here, and make it seem as if I’m still here. Can you do that?”

John was taken aback. “Sherlock-“

“John!” Sherlock interrupted. “Lives depend on this. Can you do it?”

“Of course.” Sherlock searched his face for a moment, and then nodded. Without another word he turned and, grabbing his coat on the way, left the flat and his bewildered flatmate behind him.

*******

Now

John Watson was worried about his flatmate.

Admittedly, it was a feeling he was quite used to feeling having been sharing with Sherlock for as long as he had, but this was a slightly different worry to his usual worry. Usually he was only worried about his flatmate's disregard for his own safety or how he continuously forgot to eat. But this… this was different.

Sherlock had been acting completely out of character for, oh, about a week now. Ever since he had returned from his sudden and mysterious trip. To Fitton. A fact which John had only learned by checking Sherlock’s pockets for a receipt and finding one for the local store there, though why Sherlock would want black hair dye was beyond John.

But, Sherlock did many things that confused John. He could handle them. What he couldn’t handle was how…normal  Sherlock was acting at the moment. He was eating regularly, well regularly for him, and sleeping in his bed- during a case! He was being somewhat polite to strangers and had even fumblingly apologised after a cruel comment when Sally had showed up with a few of Lestrade’s notes.

If it wasn’t for the fact he was still completely brilliant, John would have thought he was dealing with a different person. A very similar but different-

“John!” Sherlock’s call suddenly broke through John’s thoughts. He had stuck the crime scene photos on one of the walls and was currently standing before them as if staring would make them give up their secrets.

“Yes Sherlock?”

“I need you to send a text. My phone is in your pocket.”

John checked his pocket and found to his shock that it was. “How did that- never mind.” He shook his head, used to the oddities of living with Sherlock. He went to send a text when he noticed Sherlock had just received one.

“You’ve got a text. From….Martin.” Sherlock looked over with a “go on” expression so John opened it to read it. “Oh. It’s blank. Martin must have accidentally texted you.”

Sherlock took in a deep breath, which caused John to look up. He was surprised to see the look of honest fear on his friend’s face before it disappeared to be replaced by his usual mask. However, he stalked across the room and held his hand out for his phone.

John handed it over and watched as Sherlock dialled Martin, and with a glance at John, placed it on speaker.

“Hello?” A childish, confused and familiar voice answered.

“Arthur!” Sherlock called as John tried to place the voice. Arthur…Oh! Martin’s friend, Arthur. How did Sherlock remember that?

“Skipper! You’re missing! Well, obviously you’re not missing, because you’re talking to me now and you can’t be missing if you can talk on a phone because then you know where you are. Unless you’re lost, but then you’re not missing, you’re lost which is completely different. Somehow. Mum didn’t explain it very well when I asked. She just-“

“Arthur!” Sherlock interrupted. “I’m not Martin.”

“Of course you are. You sound like Martin, Skip so you have to be who you are. You can’t not be yourself, it’s really hard and then you’re not you and that’s really sad.” Sherlock sighed with the hint of a fond smile on his face.

“Arthur, is your mother there?”

“Oh yeah. But she told me to stay by GERTI after she screamed, so I’m thinking it might be a good idea to stay here.”

“This is more important. Take the phone to your mother.” Arthur went to protest. “Now, Arthur! Please.”

John looked at Sherlock in shock as the sounds of Arthur running came over the phone. His voice calling Carolyn could be heard, before a rushing and then Carolyn’s voice came over the phone.

“Who is this, and what does it have to do with Martin?”

“Carolyn? It’s Sherlock Holmes. I…I believe I am needed at Fitton airport. Martin’s life may depend upon it.”

“His life?” Her voice came back, sounding worried and confused. “Yes. Meet me at the Portakabin in an hour.”  




Next