The Baddies, The Doctor and The Wardrobe

[smallhobbit]

Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Characters: John Watson
Rating: G
Word Count: 555
Prompt: Imprisonment/Hostage/etc. and Rescue fic
Notes: Written for the fifth of the amnesty prompts for JWP on watsons_woes

When John Watson came round he continued to lie in the crumpled heap he appeared to have been left in for a couple of minutes.  He listened and the total silence convinced him that he was alone, neither captor nor possible fellow captives were around.  It was dark, although there was a sliver of what could best be described as less darkness higher up.  Cautiously he stretched out and instantly banged his left hand and arm on something solid.  Repeating the action with his right arm he soon found a similar substance slight further away, but still within arm’s length.  He had been lying on his back so carefully he rolled over.  As he did so he felt something brush against his face and body.  He recoiled and waited to see if there was any further movement.  Nothing happened so he got up on his hands and knees and began to feel all around.  It didn’t take him long to establish that he was in some kind of wooden box.  He decided to try standing up.

As he did so whatever he was sharing the box with moved and started to wrap itself around his body.  He sat down quickly, trying not to panic.  He felt in his pocket for his phone, but as he had expected it was no longer there.  He did find a bottle of water and a cereal bar that he had picked up earlier when Sherlock had shouted to him to hurry up and join him.  So presumably his captors, whilst wanting him temporarily out of the way, had no immediate desires for his demise.  Having calmed slightly he started a more systematic exploration of what was sharing his large cupboard.

He raised his hands and felt along the objects.  He realised that by moving them slightly he could allow the sliver of light from what he presumed was the cupboard door to partially illuminate the contents.  It was then he realised that it wasn’t a cupboard as such; it was a wardrobe full of fur coats.  And if, when I work my way through, he thought, I end up in Narnia, I shall blame Sherlock.  In fact I shall blame Sherlock regardless. 

Having established that there was indeed no way out of the wardrobe, he sat down again.  He would have to wait for either his captors to return, which he considered unlikely, or to be rescued.  He just hoped it didn’t take too long for someone to work out where he was, for it was already starting to get colder.  Then he realised that it was ridiculous sitting shivering on the floor of a wardrobe, so he stood up and borrowed one of the fur coats.  The coat was clearly meant for someone much bigger than he was, but he wasn’t bothered.  He huddled up inside it and proceeded to doze off.

He was woken by the sound of voices.  “Are you sure this is where the Freak said?  There’s nothing in here but an old wardrobe.”

He banged loudly on the door.  He heard footsteps and then someone turning a key in the lock.  He pushed at the door which swung open and he barrelled out.  There was a startled yell and then he heard Lestrade’s voice.  “You can tell Sherlock we’ve found a yeti that’s impersonating John Watson."