John was beginning to lose hope he would ever be rescued. Judging by the changing patterns of light coming through a window somewhere behind him he had been here for at least five days. Surely by now Sherlock and the others must be looking for him. His wrists were burning from the chains holding him up and his head was pounding from the amount of energy that had already been taken from him.
He still couldn't believe this had even happened. There was no way a human should have been to get the jump on him and no way they should have had the expertise to do something like this... John let out a sigh and hung his head. Well, there wasn't much point dwelling on it. What was done was done and he was just going to have to deal with it. Though spark only knew how he was going to escape. He had even started to hope that nobody would find out about this because he would be a laughing stock amongst the other electricity Magi. None of them would allow themselves to be kidnapped and used as a giant battery. John knew that, if they found out, he would never hear the last of it.
A wave of despair swept over John. He was exhausted, both from the energy loss and from fighting back the blackness that kept threatening to rise up and drown him. Giving into it was the worst thing he could possibly do. If he did there would be no point in him being rescued. Somehow he had to keep going and remain positive... John froze, aware of the loud buzzing noise that was slowly growing louder and louder until it seemed to be coming from the very walls themselves. John swore quietly and gritted his teeth. His captors, whoever they might be, were powering up the machine again.
He tensed, desperatly trying to prepare himself for the pain he knew was coming. Once again though he knew it was pointless. It wasn't something he could ever truely prepare himself for. Then, from out of nowhere, his every nerve began to scream as his electrical magic was forcibly torn from his body. It felt like his bones were going to snap but he knew from experience that it would soon pass. It was a shame he couldn't say the same about the pain.
John gritted his teeth against a cry of pain. Surely he couldn't have much more energy left to give. Already parts of his body were beginning to shut down as he could no longer spare the energy to keep them going. Just when he thought everything couldn't possibly get any worse he realised with a horrible jolt that his vision had gone blurry, black spots obscuring much of the scene before him. His mouth turned dry, making it difficult to swallow. This could not be happening! This situation was terrifying enough without losing the use of his eyes!
John bit his lip, fighting against a wave of sickness. He just wanted it all to stop. Please, please just let it end... Suddenly, without warning, the pain abruptly died as the humming fell silent. John gasped for breath, frantically sucking in air. It might only turn out to be a temporary respite after all and he had learnt that he needed to take advantage of them when they were there. He blinked a few times, trying not to panic when he was greeted by nothing by blackness.
From somewhere nearby came the quiet scuff of footsteps, closely followed by a sharp inhalation of breath. "John, what the hell have they done to you?"
The voice sounded like Sherlock but John no longer entirely trusted his senses. This wouldn't be the first time he had hallucinated something like this. It was even possible he'd fainted again and this was nothing but a dream. A hand touched his cheek and he flinched, letting out a small cry of shock. It felt too real to be a dream and a shudder run through John's body. The hand disappeared and John felt a warm body next to him, as though somebody was reaching up to undo the chains around his wrists. John's heart contracted and he felt his breath hitching as panic really set in. He wanted to fight, to lash out but he didn't think he had enough power left any more. Whatever this person wanted he was helpless to stop it. It was not a comforting thought.
"Its alright, John. I'm here now. I'm so sorry it took me so long to get here." Sherlock said, sounding close to tears.
John began to tremble and a single tear dripped down his cheek. "Sherlock?" He asked in a voice that was hoarse from screaming, "You're actually here?"
Sherlock let out a quiet sob and gathered John into his arms, making sure to be careful of the wounds on John's wrists. "I'm here, my love. I'm right beside you. Can't you see me?" There was a hitch in his voice towards the end, revealing an underlying fear he didn't want John to know about.
John reached up and awkwardly fumbled for Sherlock's face. It took him a few attempts but finally he was able to lay a hand on Sherlock's cheek. "I can't..." He choked on the words and had to swallow hard a few times before he could continue. "I can't see anything." He said before bursting into tears.
Sherlock hugged John a little harder and began stroking his hair. He didn't know what he could say to make this better. What words could ever make this okay? Silence fell in the tiny concrete room as the two of them struggled to come to terms with the new development. It would be a while before either of them spoke again...
To be continued...