Shoot, Salt, and Sonic

[shadow_claw]

Dean made a face and glanced over at Casti. Could this get any worse? "Aw man, that's just weird." He shuddered at the thought. It was still surprising how The Master's kid wasn't the spawn of Satan. Then again, he had met Satan and he was more of a pain in the ass than anything. He shook his head slowly.

 

Sherlock's expression contorted into confusion as John began to tug him away. Just a quick survey of his friend had him even more concerned. "John, what aren't you telling me?" He asked. He dug his heels in to slow his friend down. The detective continued to study John's expression. He was ready to panic. He was only keeping a mask on. He had been worried for Sherlock's wellbeing. "The Master isn't as bad as The Doctor stated. He helped me escape from the Timelords."

[pudding]

"Sherlock, he kills people," John replied, still trying to drag Sherlock away. "He's insane. He was in prison for a reason. Let's just go home and forget about him before something bad happens."

 

The Master rolled his eyes and slowly stood, dusting his pants off. "Don't tell him," He said, suddenly growing serious. "It's a test. No hints, nothing. Or I'll throw open the doors and launch you both into the Time Vortex. As soon as we get out. Speaking of which." He clapped his hands, causing the doors leading outside to suddenly snap shut. "Nobody will be leaving unless we all leave."

[shadow_claw]

"You killed people." Sherlock pointed out. It was strange, but he felt at home in The Master's TARDIS. He hadn't even seen that much of it either. It just had a sort of comforting feel to it. "Why can't you just stay here? I am certainly not finished and see no point in leaving so soon. I am fine, you're fine, and there's a room full to the brim with books."

 

Dean's head whipped around as he heard the door slam shut nearby. That...that wasn't good. And it wasn't like they could just shank him and run. Especially when John still on board and unaware of the new situation. He subconsciously reached for his gun as he thought. "Wait. Do you honestly want to ease him into all of this?"

[pudding]

John stared at Sherlock pointedly then let go and crossed his arms. “You know that’s different. I fought in a war. I didn’t start one.” He sighed and looked around at the library. “Just grab some books and let’s leave. We can’t stay here.”

 

The Master’s eyes immediately flew to the gun. All hope of a normal conversation stopped there as his eyes widened. “Oh, nope. None of that.” He looked around at the zero room then quickly ran at Castiel and slammed his head into the angel’s. He had enough of getting shot. The angel dropped to the ground, holding his head as the two mind melded for a brief moment and the Master quickly darted away, running from the Zero room as fast as he could.

 

[shadow_claw]

"Cas!" Dean cried, rushing to his friend. He crouched down, distracted by The Master's attack to the angel. Family always came first, even if that meant letting their target get away. He was personally obligated to make sure his family was okay.

 

Sherlock sighed. "Fine, but you understand that I must return them." He begrudingly agreed. He walked off, returning later with an armful of books. Why was it such a big deal? They left him behind, why show up now and whisk him away? He was safe enough here before they sowed up! It all didn't add up. "John. I know you're avoiding something. What happened to no more secrets?"

[pudding]

The mental attack had reduced Cas to a heap on the floor, too stunned to move.

 

"Well," John muttered. He had a point. And knowing Sherlock, he'd deduce it at some point anyway. That was when the door was thrown open at the Master entered the room, coughing and cradling his stomach. He was bleeding yet again and struggled to close and lock the door before sliding down and sitting on the floor.

"You're friends... They really do not understand what manners are. Quite rude, quite rude. Going to make me regenerate at this rate. Are you stealing my books?"

[shadow_claw]

Sherlock looked up as The Master ran inside and slammed the door shut. He set the books down on the floor so that he could check the Timelord's injuries. "What did they do? And no, I was planning on returning them. John wants to return to the flat." He answered calmly. "You tore the wounds open again, didn't you? This is why I suggested stitches. At least then it is less likely to reopen." Irritaion seeped into his voice as he spoke.

[pudding]

The Master grimaced, his hand pressed firmly to his stomach. "They were threatening me with a gun," He replied, apparently having a bit of trouble speaking. "So I headbutted the one in the trench coat and ran." He smirked slightly at the last statement before he was overcome by pain and doubled over again, his feet pulling close to his chest to cover the wound from further damage. A string of curses came from the Time Lord as her curled up in a tight ball.

[shadow_claw]

Surprisingly concerned, Sherlock crouched down and looked him over. "John. There's a medical kit in the main console room. I will be right back to fetch it." He said calmly. He slowly stood up, unlocked the door, and walked outside. He returned soon after with the box of medical supplies and set it down beside The Master. "The Winchesters and Castiel are...classically American. Both Sam and Dean are paranoid without a weapon and usually are quick to draw one. This is probably what startled you." He stated.

[chicbecause]

((I could do with a recpap.))

 

 

[pudding]

John crossed his arms, surprisingly standoffish with the Master. The Time Lord didn't seem to be faking his injuries, however, and coughed several more times, his toes curling as he tried to deal with the pain. More curses came from the Time Lord as Sherlock returned. "I don't want to regenerate," he said with a grimace. "But I'm not sure I can fend it off."

[shadow_claw]

((Dean, Cas and Company flew into the Timelock to question The Master. They don't get any information and then the Timelords show up and attack them. Sherlock is shot in the leg and fell. Cas grabbed everyone he could and flew off, leaving Sherlock behind on accident. The Master helps Sherlock escape into his TARDIS.

Back in the Flat, Mycroft calls Sherlock's phone and Dean answers. When Dean answers his insistence of Sherlock's whereabouts, Mycroft hangs up. Only to storm into the house minutes later scolded the lot who left him behind. He explained to them of Sherlock's parenting and then broke down in Sherlock's usual chair. Cas flew John and Dean back into the Timelock an they followed the blood trail. While Castiel and Dean are questioning The Master, John finds Sherlock in the library. He insists a reluctant Sherlock that they needed to leave.

The Master admits to being Sherlock's father and then locked everyone inside his TARDIS. Dean flipps out and pulls out a gun. The Master reacts by headbutting Cas and mentally assaulting him and then flees to the library. He's in pretty bad shape at this point, and near regeneration. The rest is on this page.))

 

Sherlock opened the medical kit and pulled out various items. He used a wad of cloth to attempt to stop the bleeding, putting as much pressure possible without further injuring the Timelord. "Then hold still and I'll see what I can do. I'm no physician, but I've worked with enough bodies and have some knowledge on trauma." He intructed. He didn't expect John to help, not by the way he had been acting previously, so he opted to do what he could to save The Master. The real motive behind this was that Sherlock felt indebted to him. After all, The Master had saved him not thirty minutes ago. Besides, he wasn't the kind of person to let others die. At least, as long as he had a good judgement of them.

[pudding]

The Master's eyes suddenly shot open and he quickly grabbed Sherlock's hand. "What ever you do," he warned, giving the detective a look. "Do not give me Aspirin." Satisfied he had managed to disclose this last bit of information, the Time Lord leaned backwards and promptly slipped into a deep, healing coma. The doors to the TARDIS were locked and he was the only one who could get them out. He was putting it up to their better judgement not to kill him since they would trap themselves forever within his TARDIS.

"Well he's quite the character," John finally said as he slowly approached Sherlock and watched him for several moments. "Do you want me to do that?"

[shadow_claw]

Asprin? What was he, a dog? Sherlock frowned, continuing to tend to the bleeding wound after The Master had gone comatose. He only paused when John offered to take over. "If you could. I'm rubbish at this." He answered. Shifting out of the way, Sherlock made sure John had enough room to work.

[pudding]

Immediately, John tore off the Master's shirt to expose his wound. It was bleeding but also looked burnt. The weapon used hadn't been a normal gun but some sort of alien technology. Quickly, he grabbed the first aid kit and dragged it close before plucking out a needle and threading it. Carefully but swiftly, he began to stitch the wound closed. "I'm going to need more bandages. After that, do you think you can find a bathroom? He said not to use aspirin but he's probably got some sort of painkiller that he won't have an allergic reaction to."

[shadow_claw]

"There is ibuprofen in the kit. Not much, but I saw it earlier." Sherlock answered. He dug around in the kit for the supplies John had mentioned and pulled out a roll of cloth and a small bottle of painkiller. These supplies were held out to John as he worked. It was so strange not being the one in charge, but this was okay. John had a more extensive medical knowledge.

[pudding]

John nodded and quickly finished stitching the wound in his chest. He took the bandages from Sherlock and wrapped them around the Master's torso wound before removing his blood-stained shirt completely and tossing it away. He took the painkiller and inspected it before putting it in his pocket. "We'll save this for when he wakes up," John replied then closed the first aid kit. "Do you know if there is a couch in here? We should probably lay him down."

[shadow_claw]

Sherlock watched quietly as John worked. Sherlock knew how to do all that stuff himself, but John had the medical practice and a steadier hand. Being a recovering addict of several drugs resulted in tremors. At his friend's question, he nodded. "I saw one where I was laying down. Help me carry him." He answered. Sherlock questioned whether or not his leg could handle the stress of lifting someone. They'd find out soon enough.

[pudding]

John nodded and worked his arms under the Master's armpits then straighten up so he was holding him up. "You lead the way," He instructed, motioning for Sherlock to guide them to the couch.

 

Cas finally stood, holding his head. "That was... unpleasant," The angel declared with a frown. "Where has the Master gone?" He asked, looking around for the alien. "Did you shoot him?"

[shadow_claw]

Dean was visibly relieved when Castiel stood. He wiped the worried look of his face and sighed. Thank God he was alright. No, he had nothing to thank God for. God had caused enough problems in his life. "No. I pulled my gun out and he headbutted you." He answered.

 

Sherlock picked up The Master's feet, grimacing as his leg wound protosted. He trudged on until he reached the couch and lowered him down. "What a strange man. It is hard to believe we are related." It hadn't taken Sherlock very long at all to figure out they had family ties. One starts to suspect that sort of thing when the homicidal maniac starts asking about your interests. He shook his head slowly and sighed.

[pudding]

John released the Master when they were over the couch then looked up at Sherlock. Ah. So he knew. "Why don't we leave, then? Surely you aren't going to stay here with a mad alien. He's dangerous, Sherlock. It would be better if we left him here and went home."

 

"That felt considerably worse than a head butt," Cas replied, tentatively touching his head. He frowned slightly then focused back on Dean. "Which way did he run? We should peruse him quickly."

[shadow_claw]

Sherlock didn't look so sure. He frowned and flopped down in a chair. "I do not know, he is the first in my family who has actually shown some form of interest in me. Mycroft only makes sure I'm not dead and mother never cared." Sherlock had never exactly had a good childhood. Most of it he purposefully pushed in the back of his mind. Not truly forgotten, but buried to hide the pain.

 

It was filled with fighting, whether it was Mycroft and Mrs. Holmes or Mr. and Mrs. Holmes. He had been so small when their parents had fought. Old enough for him to be afraid and young enough for Mycroft to keep him from Mr. Holmes's wrath. There had been several times where Mister Holmes had attempted to kill Sherlock before Mrs.Holmes had kicked him out. The boy was a freak at school and invisible at home. Sherlock developed Sociopathy after years of this. There were reasons he had turned to drugs. The detective sighed and rubbed his face as he thought of this.

 

---

 

Dean shrugged. Hell if he knew. He was too busy making sure Cas was okay. "I don't know. He's a lot faster than I expected." He answered. What if The Master found John? That was a troubling thought. "C'mon, let's see if John and Sherlock are safe."

[pudding]

John watched the detective in what was probably the most personal idea that Sherlock had ever disclosed to him. He knew next to nothing about Sherlock's family but if this mad alien was the best thing he had... That was pretty depressing. Still, it was an insane alien. "So what? You're going to stay holed up in here with him? We can't bring him back to Earth. How do we know he won't run off and try to take over the Earth? It may sound silly but, apparently, it's a legitimate worry."

 

Cas nodded then frowned. "It does not appear as if I can sense anyone in here. I feel... Cut off. Confined." Nevertheless, he followed Dean quickly in search of John and Sherlock. It would be worrisome if they had gotten hurt or injured.

[shadow_claw]

Sherlock shrugged in response. "Leaving while he is still unconscious could be a lot worse. What happens when he awakes and we have left?" He pointed out. If The Master lived up to his reputation, then the reaction wouldn't be good. Sherlock grimaced as his headache intensified. He hated headaches. Especially ones from injuries. They hurt worse than any of the migraines he occasionally got.

 

"Keep in mind he locked us in here. That could be what it is." Dean ran out the door and followed Sherlock's blood trail into the library. Locked. Dammit! Dean pounded on the door with his fist before opting to pick the lock. That would be less painful than breaking it down.

[pudding]

John stared at Sherlock when the detective grimaced. Did he have a concussion? Oh great, this was fantastic. He glanced at the door when he heard someone hitting it and hurried over, opening it wide to reveal Cas and Dean. "Oh good, you're here. Can you help me convince Sherlock to leave?"