All Consuming Fire
Title: All Consuming Fire
Author: BlametheCupcake
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Mrs.Hudson, Gladstone, Holmes/Watson
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,123
Disclaimer: These charaters are not mine, I wish they were, but they're not.
Summary: A fire at Baker Street
Spoilers/Warnings: Slash, don't like don't read aye?
A/N: Fill for a prompt at shkinkmeme
He was back in Afghanistan, he knew he shouldn’t be but he was none the less. Men were screaming, bullets were flying, a dog was barking, and the air was thick with smoke. Between the smoke and the hot air it was becoming harder and harder to breath but men were screaming for a doctor and he had to help them. Watson grabbed his bag and stumbled through the smoke yelling for the men to stay down and that he was coming. His eyes stung from the smoke and he couldn’t help but cough and choke as he fought through the smoke but it was becoming thicker and it was harder to see.
Somewhere in the cloud of smoke a voice started screaming his name and for a moment his stopped. Holmes. What was Holmes doing in Afghanistan? He wasn’t supposed to be here! The detective was usually so unemotional but to hear his frightened screams terrified Watson then any amount of bullets or Ghazi’s ever could. Watson called back to him, yelling his name over and over as he fought through the smoke trying to find his lost friend.
“Watson! Watson where are you? Answer me man, for God’s sake! Please Watson, please!”
Holmes didn’t seem to be able to hear him he just kept calling for Watson over and over, asking where he was and begging him to answer. He sounded so far away, voice barely heard over the flames and screams of the others.
Wait… flames?
There shouldn’t be so much fire, the tents and the wagons were aflame but there shouldn’t be this much smoke. What was going on?
But Holmes was still yelling, he had to find Holmes. The fire though, he didn’t understand. Yelling, fire, screams, he was so confused.
“Watson! Watson! WAT-“
“-SON!”
The doctor woke with a start, gasping only to choke a moment later on the thick smoke. Thick black smoke filled the air and panicked he levered himself up on an elbow and covered his mouth with the sleeve of his dressing gown. Tears streamed down his cheeks as the smoke stung his eyes and made his eyes water. It was so hot and he couldn’t stop coughing, it felt like he was going to hack out his lungs.
Suddenly his bedroom door burst open and a very disheveled Holmes was standing there staring at him wide eyes. He had a handkerchief clamped firmly over his mouth and what skin he could see was covered in soot. “Watson, oh thank God!” The sheer relief in his voice would have melted his heart under normal circumstances but he was so confused and disoriented it was hard to focus.
He could do nothing but cough and blink in confusion at the detective in his doorway. Holmes seemed to understand his circumstances and crossed the room in three long legged strides to grasp him by the shoulders and pull him from the bed. “Come on my good man, we have to go. Up you get now.” He said and kept an arm wrapped around Watson’s shoulder as the man nearly doubled over with huge raking coughs. As soon as he managed to get a hold of his coughing the handkerchief clamped down over his mouth. Watson tried to protest but Holmes merely shook his head and dragged to doctor towards the door.
If he thought it was hot in the room it was nothing compared to the inferno he felt when Holmes opened the door the landing. Instinctively he tried to jerk back from the heat but Holmes still had an impossibly strong arm wrapped around him and pulled him forward. The smoke was even thicker out in hall and even with the handkerchief around his mouth it was impossible not cough. He was so disoriented and light headed and he had no doubt if Holmes was not there pulling him along he would simply collapse where he stood.
Holmes pulled him down the stairs to the second floor where the sitting room and Holmes’s bedroom were located, making sure to keep a firm grip on the doctor so he wouldn’t lose his footing. The entire time he kept up a steady stream of encouraging words that were muffled by the sleeve Holmes had clamped over his mouth in place of the handkerchief he had given to the “Don’t worry my boy, I got you. It’s not far now Watson, come on you can do. We’re going to be alright.” Watson’s head were muddled and he and he had trouble following him but Holmes seemed just as unaware of his words as the doctor.
After what felt like a lifetime they managed to make it down the stairs and to the second floor landing. It was then that Watson heard a dog barking. “Holmes.” He gasped in a choked voice and he tried to stop despite the strong arm trying to tug him away. “Just one more flight old by and we’ll be out, I promise. You can do it.” Holmes said and tried to pull him away. “No Holmes, Gladstone. We need to find Gladstone.” He said and tried to go towards the sitting room to find his missing pet.
“Watson please, we don’t have time. The building is coming down!” Watson stumbled away from him and towards the door of the sitting room but detective grabbed his sleeve.
“Gladstone! No Holmes, please. Gladstone! Gladstone!” The dog was barking frantically somewhere off in the smoke and haze, Holmes was yelling frantically, and Watson felt so lightheaded and sick he just wanted to collapse. He was seconds away from doing so when a strong arm wrapped around his chest, then another around his waist before he was being dragged away. “I’m sorry Watson, I am so sorry. Don’t fight me please, I am so sorry.” Holmes pleaded in his ear as he dragged the struggling doctor away and towards the final flight of stairs.
It wasn’t until a flaming chunk of celling fell and narrowly avoided hitting the two of them that Watson finally stopped fighting the detective. His strength was starting to fail him and Holmes more of less dragged him down the stairs but he did his best to keep up. They were halfway down the seventeen steps when the steps let out an ominous creek and suddenly Watson was lying on his back. Holmes was lying on top of him, keeping them both from sliding down the steps and to the gaping hole that suddenly appeared where the steps had collapsed. The detective swore viciously and sat up while Watson just laid there gasping and coughing.
They were going to die. They were trapped inside their burning home, cut off from the door, and he was going to burn to death. Or suffocate; he was closer to that anyways. With that thought a sudden surge of resignation washed over him and he let his eyes closed. Maybe he could just drift off and sleep through the suffocation, it was a painful way to die and he wouldn’t mind being unaware of it.
“Oh no no no, Watson open your eyes!” A demanding voice said and when he ignored it a few pats on his cheeks followed. “We are not going to die, do you hear me? Now you will get up doctor, or I will be forced to take measures neither one of us will find pleasant.”
Watson never could ignore an order from Holmes and after a bit of a struggle opened his eyes. He was rewarded with a brief smile for his efforts before being pulled to his feet. “We’re going to have to jump, my dear Watson, I afraid it is the only way.” Despite the dire situation Holmes couldn’t help but laugh at the incredulous look on Watson’s face. “I will go first.”
The gap separating the two chucks of stairs seemed unbelievably far but Holmes seemed sure they could do it. Holmes backed up the stairs a few feet before he ran down the stairs and leaped the gap. Watson felt his heart skip a beat in worry but the detective made it with sickening ease. Once he was safely across he turned and held out a hand to Watson, encouraging him to jump. “Come on old man, you can do it!” He called and for a moment Watson wasn’t so sure.
He was so light headed and coughing every few moments that even standing was difficult and now he had to make a leap. Like Holmes he backed up the stairs and he idly wondered if his bad leg would even hold up to the action. Watson ran down the stairs and leapt across the gap.
His foot barely touched the stairs on the other side when he felt himself falling backwards. Oh God he was going to die. Just as quickly as the thought crossed his mind two strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him forward. He and Holmes fell back on the stairs and tumbled head of heel down the remaining stairs. The fall was too much for the poor disoriented doctor and the slight bump to the head when he hit the landing was enough to send him into unconsciousness.
When Watson next came to consciousness they were in the street in the freezing cold air. He was sitting in the street with his back pressed against Holmes chest and two arms were wrapped around him. In front of them their house was burning.
“Are you with me dear boy?” Holmes asked softly when he felt the doctor stir.
“Oh dear God.” Watson said in horror as a section of the roof caved in.
Behind him he felt Holmes shake his head sadly and tightened his arms around him. The sound of crying started to filter in and for a moment he thought Holmes was actually crying but when he turned his head he saw it was actually Mrs. Hudson. The woman was sobbing, wrapped in Holmes’s soot covered jacket to protect against the cold. At least they had made it out alive. Wait…
“Gladstone.” He chocked and he felt Holmes stiffen. “I am so sorry Watson.” The man said sadly.
His poor dog, trapped and alone in a burning building until he died a horrible death. Oh Gladstone. As if sensing his distress a small shape appeared in the doorway. “Gladstone!” He gasped and could feel the detective look up as well. The stout little animal waddled down the buildings front steps a familiar black case clamped in his jaws as he waddled over to him. All three humans gapped at the animal as he waddled over and dropped the case before sitting in between Watson’s outstretched legs.
Watson felt tears prick his eyes as he scooped the dog up into his arms and buried his face in the animal’s fur, ignoring the strong smell of smoke coming off of him. “Oh my brave little fellow.” He said, ignoring the way his voice wavered as he said it. “It’s okay, we’re okay, we’re all okay." He said over and over, though it was more for himself then the little animal in his arms.
The two men and the dog stayed in a small huddle in the street even after the fire brigade came and attempted to salvage the destroyed building and the Yard arrived to investigate. Holmes waved them away every time they tried to approach and they stayed in a silent vigil until the fire was out. By that time blankets had been secure and draped over the three of them, two of which were still in their night clothing.
Watson was eerily quiet and did not let go of his pet who seemed content to lay in its masters arms as long as it was required of him. As the light of dawn broke the three humans and a dog were bundled in a carriage and off to Pall Mall.
The next day Holmes, Watson, and Gladstone (who Watson refused to let out of his sight) stood in front of the rubble pile that had once been their home. Mycroft had been good enough to let them stay with him until they had a new place to stay but the loss of their home was devastating. “It will be alright Watson.” The detective said as soothingly as he could manage. “I have a great deal saved up and I can be less picky with which cases I choose. It will be alright.” He wasn’t sure who Holmes was trying to convince.
“I know Holmes. This isn’t the first time I have had to start from nothing, Maiwand and all that.” Watson said as confidently as he could. “We’ll be fine.”