Chapter Text
“We have to go look for Mike.” John’s voice was hushed. The sound of his heartbeat was almost louder than his words.
They had managed to get down the hallway with no problems. Sherlock had clicked off the torch as soon as they had reached the ending. Even though this should have relieved him, Sherlock’s teeth almost hurt with how on edge he was. It was like, at any moment, a dinosaur with the desire to rip out his guts would fall from the ceiling or materialize before them and chomp him up with one bite. Or slowly rip out his-
“Are you mad?” Sherlock vaguely remembered Anderson mentioning Mike. What did it matter? It seemed like a lifetime ago they had been in the safety of that computer room. Why had they ever left it? They should have sent Anderson out to get eaten by the monsters that were lurking about instead.
“We can’t just leave him.” John bit out.
Sherlock could tell that John wasn’t too keen on the idea either but he refused to leave any of his friends in harm’s way. It made conflicting emotions rise in Sherlock’s chest. He would want John to go after him in such a situation but he didn’t know Mike. What did he care?
“The exotic plant area isn’t that far from here and there aren’t any dangerous dinosaur paddocks between the two.”
Sherlock wanted to point out that all dinosaurs were dangerous but it seemed like a mute point. They waited in the mouth of the hall for another moment before opening the door to the building. It was still pouring outside and thunder cracked overhead.
John nudged him with his shoulder and they made their way back into the storm. Sherlock was tempted to turn on the torch but knew it was a terrible idea. If the Tyrannosaurus Rex saw it, that would be the ending of it for both of them. There was a sensory overload of rain, shadows and fear- Sherlock’s brain started running circles around itself.
John was all single mindedness and he lead the way. Sherlock had only seen the schematics of the inside park on paper a million lifetimes ago. He had rarely ever left the main buildings or even seen the finished products of all his research. As always, he could understand the DNA codes- what he had actually brought to life was a completely different story.
What had he brought to life? The question of whether it should be done had always been pushed to side for the mystery of could he do it. The challenge had been an adrenaline rush and Sherlock had never thought about whether what he was doing was good or not. All that mattered were the questions, the puzzles.
But now what he had helped bring to life was eating people and it made something in Sherlock’s stomach clinch. Are they eating people? Sherlock didn’t know a handful of the people’s names that worked in the park with them. They had only ever been a blur of faces. Incompetence that he was forced to work with on a daily basis.
Now, in the pouring rain with the threat of actually losing his life, Sherlock knew that given the chance, he would do it all the same. It was really the future that concerned him. A future with John in it. Sherlock’s lungs burned as he ran farther and longer than he had since high school. He really should borrow Mycroft’s treadmill sometime. Despite what was happening, Sherlock giggled shrilly through his huffing.
“Shit!” John cursed. He had brought them to a small river, a river, according the blueprints of the park, that shouldn’t be there- it was obvious in John’s body language; he hadn’t been expecting it. “Everything is overflowing. We can’t cross this.” John made a dramatic gesture with his hands and looked like he was just going to collapse in a heap.
Sherlock nodded. He had barely made out half of what John had said but he knew that none of it was good. John started running again along side the slowly growing river. Sherlock rested his hands on his thighs and tried to catch his breath.
“Fuck!” John continued to curse as he had a mini-hissy fit. Sherlock just gaped as the smaller man stomped and used combinations of words he had never heard before. Sherlock was tempted to ask if John had been a sailor before (even though Sherlock knew he hadn’t). The sheer variety and complexity made the tips of Sherlock’s ears burn.
“As entertaining as this all is,” Sherlock straightened himself up and wavered slightly on his legs. “It might be more productive if we actually did something.”
As if John had been lost in his own world, his head snapped over to Sherlock when he spoke. John’s fists tightened and his face darkened. “You! It’s your fucking twat of a brother’s fault! If he had-”
Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Oh, please! Can we focus on the main issue! You know- not getting eaten!”
John blinked and his eyes refocused. He looked as if he had tasted something sour and after letting out a long breath, John’s shoulders sagged. “I know. I know...just-” John pinched the ridge of his nose. “ You’re right. Of course you’re right.”
They stood in silence- John trying to figure out what the hell they were going to next and Sherlock took a moment to appreciate how adorable John looked. He reminded Sherlock of an angry wet puppy.
“Okay, if we head right I’m pretty sure that the overflow will be shallower and we’ll be able to cross.”
“That’s your plan?”
John frowned. “Well, I don’t see you offering your massive intellect to this problem!” He raised his voice as a thunder bolt cracked through the sky. It made Sherlock’s hairs stand up on end. The static electricity was thick in the air and-
“John!”
Sherlock screamed as a lightning struck one of the trees nearest them. Without even realizing what he was doing, Sherlock nearly bowled John over, embracing the smaller man in something that resembled a tackle. They were both shaking as the tree started to smoke and small flames licked at the base of the oak.
Sherlock nearly ripped John’s shirt off he was holding onto him so tight. John shivered and it made Sherlock hold on even tighter. Every cell in Sherlock’s body seemed to be alight and he could feel the blood thumping in his ears.
“Are you all right?” John’s voice was low and partially muffled by Sherlock’s shirt.
“I’m perfectly fine.” Sherlock licked his lips. “You?”
Sherlock could feel John nodding. “Um, fine. Yeah.”
The cold wet air hit Sherlock once they pulled apart. Sherlock shivered and he resisted the urge to wrap his arms around his middle. John took off running and Sherlock followed close behind.
Sure enough the small river that had formed tampered off and they were able to cross in water that was only ankle deep. Sherlock would have been more angry if his shoes hadn’t already been soaked through. Still that didn’t stop Sherlock from pursing his lips at the feel of his extra soggy footwear.
What I won’t give for some tea...or a fire. I’m never going out in the rain again. Better yet, I’m stealing Mycroft’s umbrella and he can see how he likes this. Sherlock knew it was a petty thing to think but at the moment that was the best revenge his water logged brain could think off.
As they neared their destination, the rain began to finally lighten. The building was in sight and Sherlock wanted to shout with joy.
Without warning, John stopped in his tracks.
Sherlock’s entire body tensed. He could feel the adrenaline pumping though his veins as his body went into flight or fight mode. Although it seemed like he could do neither. There was nothing left for him to give and Sherlock prayed that John had only seen a shadow.
Except there was a shadow and the hair stood up on Sherlock’s arm as he traced its movements. John slowly raised his rifle and honed in on the animal. Like before, Sherlock just wanted to scream at John to shoot the bloody thing.
John slowly lowered his rifle. He turned to Sherlock with a weary smile. “It’s just an Ornithopod. Herbivore.” John added as if Sherlock needed the extra clarification.
Sherlock bit down the urge to lecture John on the fact that he had made almost all the dinosaurs on the island and therefore he knew it was a herbivore...well, he could have guessed correctly at the very least.
“Come on. We need to get out from the open.” John flashed a smile before continuing to make his way to the building that housed not only the exotic plants but also all the machines that helped to bring them back to life from millions of years of extinction.
Once the door was closed, Sherlock let out a sigh of relief. At least that is over. But it wasn’t...not really.
“He should be in his office.” John said. Then, “Are you all right?”
“Huh?” Sherlock shivered. The cool air in the building was making his entire body break out in goosebumps. But Sherlock didn’t mention that, instead he snapped out, “Stop asking me that. I am not a child.” As if to prove his point, Sherlock straightened his back so that he could stand even taller than John.
John just shook his head wearily. “Sure. Whatever makes you feel better. Let’s go.”
Sherlock wanted to mention the fact that he didn’t like being patronized either but John walked away before Sherlock had a chance to argue his point. The building was eerily quiet. Some of the emergency lights were on and it formed a sickly yellow mist down the still hallway.
As they got closer, John raised his rifle. “Mike? Mike, are you there? It’s me- John.”
No sound came in return and it only made Sherlock more paranoid. Could a dinosaur had already eaten this ‘Mike’ person? What if they were about to become the second course? Was his life (and John’s) worth saving this ‘Mike’? Sherlock was beginning to doubt how smart their mission had been when a small voice answered John.
“John?”
John’s head jerked to the left at the sound of a door being opened. A hand popped out and he waved both John and Sherlock farther down the hallway. As soon as they had entered the door, Mike shut and locked it.
Mike let out a sob as he and John embraced. Sherlock made an annoyed noise and fought the urge to tear them apart.
“Oh my god, John. I’ve never been so happy to see another person in all my life.” Mike’s voice cracked as he thumped John hard on the back.
John laughed. “Glad to see you too.”
They stepped out of their embrace and Mike’s face fell instantly. “They ate them. They...I saw it. Their arms...and their-”
It was only then that Sherlock saw the blood splattered all over Mike’s clothes. He had a scratch on his arm and the bandage, made from a torn shirt, on his other arm was soaked in blood.
“Christ, Mike. What happened to you?” John’s voice lowered. They weren’t as safe as they thought they had been.
“The electricity when out and...I made them stay. I- I needed them to work overtime.” Mike buried his face in his hands. “How could I have done this?”
John took Mike by the shoulders and shook him gently. “It’s not your fault, Mike. It’s this damn storm. Now let me look at your wounds.”
John directed Mike to sit down at one of the office chairs and began to take off the blood soaked bandages. Sherlock found his attention being drawn between look at the door and watching as John tended to Mike.
As the minutes rolled by with an excruciating slow speed, Sherlock began to tap his foot in frustration. He hated not doing anything and there was nothing he could do. All his mind wanted to do was make him overanalyze and when he did that, the three of them always ended up dead.
“Stop that.” John snapped out.
Sherlock stopped his foot mid-tap. He narrowed his eyes and hissed, “When are you going to be done acting like a nursemaid?”
John’s own eyes narrowed in reply. “Have a little patience. We need to formulate a plan anyway. Or do you want to go back out there with no idea as to what we should do next?”
“Fine.” Sherlock ground out. He hated being the one not speaking logically. Although he wasn’t alone, Sherlock closed his eyes and tried to access the one part of his brain that he needed to go whenever he was feeling overwhelmed. It was warm and dry there. In his mind, he could loosen his tired muscles and just let the facade drop as exhaustion slammed into him with the force of a brick wall.
“Can you leave?” John’s voice came to him through a fog. Sherlock knew he was talking to Mike, so Sherlock just let the voices quietly wash over him.
“I might slow you down.”
Sherlock didn’t need his eyes to be open to know that Mike wasn’t talking about just his wounds. He was a thicker man and would be out of breath soon. Even Sherlock could barely keep up the pace that John had set.
“Is it still here?”
“You mean ‘them’.” Mike’s tone was flat.
“....um, them. Are they still-?” John hesitated over the words.
“They’re contained in the greenhouse. Or at least I believe they are.”
“Could you be safe here?”
Sherlock could tell John was hesitating about what he was asking.
“...I-”
“We can’t just leave you!” John exclaimed only above a whisper.
Sherlock could no longer ignore the stupidity happening right next to him. “We can leave him...In fact, we have to leave him. Surely even your slow brain has realized this John.”
Sherlock blinked in shock as John’s grabbed for the front of his shirt. “Maybe I should leave you here as his guard. How do you feel about that?”
Sherlock stared down at the eyes filled with anger- and a deep exhaustion. It had to be hours since they had first met, and even then it had been late evening. Sherlock hadn’t noticed that it was the middle of the night because it had been dark all day (plus he never slept anyway). They were all exhausted and on edge.
“No.” Sherlock softened his own features and tried to look less threatening. He told himself that it was only because he didn’t want any dinosaurs to find them. There was definitely still that problem...quite a big one at that.
“All right. Good.” John’s grip loosened on Sherlock’s shirt but he didn’t let go. One of Sherlock’s eyebrows quirked up as John continued to stare into his eyes. The air grew hot and Sherlock’s fingers began to twitch with the need to cover John’s hand with his own.
“So...what are we going to do?”
Mike’s question broke them from their trance. John licked his lips and averted his eyes. Sherlock bit at the inside of his cheek as John took his hand away. However, the energy lingered and Sherlock could feel the remnants of the encounter pulsing through his body. Was he going to kiss me? Or more likely, was I going to kiss him? Sherlock wasn’t as shocked by that as he thought he should be. Rather, it was quite an agreeable thought.
“Oh!” Mike exclaimed softly as he slapped his forehead. “My jeep. We can take that.”