Title: Burning HeartsFandom: Cabin Pressure, SherlockGene: Crossover, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Mystery, FluffCharacter/s: Sherlock, Martin, Mycroft, John, Douglas, Carolyn, Arthur, Lestrade, Moriarty, OCs and other minor Sherlock charactersRating: 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.Sorry for the delay. Thanks to Elvendork for her betaing. Chapter One
It took Sherlock a moment to realise he was still alive. His heart was pounding with the adrenaline and he could feel that his breath was short. His mind was still replaying the van’s approach and the realisation that Martin might have died because of his own arrogance.
So it took him another moment to realise that the reason why he is still alive was lying on top of him and was heavy. He grunted and tried to wriggle out of Douglas’ grasp, but the man was holding onto him tightly.
“Douglas...” He muttered, which made the man hold on tighter.
“I’ve got you Martin.” Douglas replied and Sherlock groaned even as a part of him froze. Instead of trying to get free, he rolled over and forced Douglas to meet his eyes.
“I am not Martin, Douglas. I am Sherlock and I am fine.” Douglas’ eyes started to gain a focus they had been missing and suddenly there was a slight redness to the man’s cheeks.
“Of course.” He said as he let go. Sherlock instantly jumped to his feet and cursed silently when he realised there was no sign of the van. “Even Martin isn’t that much of a fool. He knows to get out of the way of moving vans.” Douglas said, still kneeing on the ground.
Sherlock offered Douglas a hand to pull him up, and he accepted with a small smile.
“Well, moving vans yes. Moving aeroplanes, not so much.” Sherlock said as he noted the blood on the back of Douglas’ arm and pulled it towards himself to examine it.
“I sense a story there.” Douglas said as Sherlock determined that while Douglas had gotten him out of the way of the van, he had been clipped by it. An obvious deduction but he found it helped with the calming of his still racing heart.
“Martin and I went to London airport as teenagers. He is the only person I know to have nearly been hit by a slow moving Boeing 737.” Sherlock grinned. He nodded at Douglas’ arm. “Get John to have a look at that.”
“Yes, of course. How were you even in danger of bei-” Douglas started to say.
Sherlock cut him off. “Official Secrets Act. Well, at least it was needed by the time we were done there. Martin can tell you all about it.” At the mention of Martin Sherlock’s heart sank and he released Douglas while turning to go back to Baker Street.
“Wouldn’t Martin also not be able to say anything?” Douglas asked, moving to walk beside Sherlock.
“He never signed the act.” Sherlock smirked. “The fools were too stupid to realise I signed twice.” He picked up his pace then, moving at an almost run that was better to hide his shaking legs in.
“Oh, right.” Douglas with a wheeze as he hurried up as well.
Martin was asleep when the door banged open. The light cut into his dream and jerked him into the land of the living. He could see Mycroft, also blinking in the sudden light.
Then whoever was in the doorway threw a body into the room and slammed the door shut bringing back the darkness.
Martin looked in the direction he knew the body was and whimpered. Is this an example? Proof of what is going to happen to us? Oh God, it’s not enough we can hear the screaming, now we have to share with our future and what if they’re not dead?
The body whimpered, bringing Martin out of his thoughts with a cry of fear. Mycroft’s leg moved across again, in what Martin hoped was a supportive gesture.
“Skip?” A scared, confused and above all too familiar voice whispered.
“Arthur!” Martin cried and there was a flurry of movement as Arthur headed toward the friendly voice. A moment later there was a huff of surprise as Arthur latched onto what he thought was Martin.
“Arthur?” Mycroft said softly. “You missed. My brother is beside us.”
“Oh. Well. You can have a hug too.” Arthur said with the ghost of his usual cheer.
Mycroft made an almost silent noise of surprise, then Martin heard the jingle of his chain as he moved. Arthur made a happy noise and Martin realised his brother had hugged Arthur.
Then there was more jiggling and Arthur’s arms were around Martin and he was sobbing into Martin’s shoulder. Martin pulled him into his body as much as he could and awkwardly patted him on the back.
“Shh, Arthur. It’s okay. Sherlock will be here soon, it’ll all be over soon.” Martin whispered.
“He’s not restrained.” Mycroft commented after Arthur’s tears had begun to dry up.
“What?” Martin asked as he pulled Arthur into a complete hug. Arthur made a small noise, like he usually did when asleep. Martin confirmed he was sleeping with a gentle nudge.
“He’s not restrained.” Mycroft repeated, causing Martin to snort.
“Stating the obvious Mycroft? Are you alright?”
“Perfectly fine. Just making a point. He’s not restrained and the door was not locked. He could escape with no effort.”
Martin narrowed his eyes, though he knew Mycroft couldn’t see it. “Is there a point to that statement? Arthur’s not...he wouldn’t make it if he tried to escape...”
“I’ve no doubt of that.” Mycroft replied. “He’s not necessary for Moriarty’s plans which suggests another reason for his presence. He’s here as a body...something to torment us with without physically paining us.”
Martin bit back a cry at that. “They...want him to try to escape?”
“Yes.” Mycroft confirmed. “Though if he doesn’t try, I’m sure they’ll punish him anyway.”
Martin pulled his friend closer. Please come soon Sherlock. We need you..I need you. Come save me.
Suddenly Martin heard footsteps outside the door. “No!” he cried, pulling Arthur behind him as much as possible, causing him to give a small cry. Beside him Mycroft shifted, moving closer. Arthur ended up behind the pair of them.
“Mycroft?” Martin questioned as the footsteps approached the door.
“The logical choice is to delay.” Mycroft whispered. “Sherlock will deduce our location shortly. No point in anyone of us being injured before then.”
“Thank you.” Martin whispered as the door opened.