John and The Doctor skidded to a hault in the midst of their search for his best friend.
Said-best friend appeared to be standing right in front of them; a mildly bewildered (but more condescending) look on his face. “What are you both doing?” Sherlock asked.
“Looking for you.” The Doctor tilted his head in an almost puppy-like fashion as he looked between the two boys.
Sherlock rolled his eyes, “Dull.”
”Not dull if you’ve been MISSING for two days!” John corrected in a firm tone. “I told you to stop running off without me. If we’re best friends, you better start acting like it.”
The dark-haired boy tensed, “I didn’t tell you because I don’t need you for this. There is no reason for you to be involved! It’s safer if I don’t tell you.” Sherlock argued.
“So it’s better running around an abandoned factory after a cult that specifically targets children ALONE?!” John yelled, clenching his hands into fists by his side.
The Doctor moved forward, “Alright, alright, enough for now. We’ve more pressing matters to deal with, don’t we boys? I didn’t come all this way and do all this work for you two to die at the hands of some silly cult, now did I?” He grinned. “Now hug and make up.”
Sherlock took a step forward and opened his arms up to John with a petulant pout.
John stepped forward, and shoved Sherlock angrily in the chest, before storming back off down the hall. The budding young detective seemed offended (and unspokenly surprised) at his rejected apology.
“You can try again later when he’d calmed down.” The Doctor mused, nudging Sherlock forward. “Let’s finish this nonsense, hm?”