Sherlock meets The Flash and Arrow

John

I feel a sense of deja vu. I've been here before. Standing by Sherlock as he bleeds out. Except for this time, at least, it's not my wife's fault.

And this time, I can do something about it. I pass out cups of water, which we all down. Caitlin, Cisco, and I all prick our arms and drop blood into the SO4Cu and watch our blood sink. Everyone's blood makes it makes it to the bottom in at least 12 seconds, which means everyone is fine to donate. Clean wipes swab left arms and we're ready. I do Caitlin's blood draw, and she does mine and Cisco's. Then we're done.

"That was easier than I thought it would be," Caitlin says.

Sherlock sits up, but I go over and push him back down. He's too weak to push himself back up against me. I've proven my point. "Scared I'm going to die on you, doctor?" he asks, voice dripping with sarcasm.

I really did not need that reminder. "Maybe, this time, you'll stay dead. Three strikes and you're out, right?" I can't help but remember my scream tearing at my throat as I watched, helpless from the ground as Sherlock fell from the building. Nor can I help remembering how it felt to hear that he'd flatlined. That he was clinically dead. I'm not going through that again.

Cisco

Sherlock looks at John. For the first time since he got here, he looks human. "I have apologized, haven't I?"

"Two years. Two whole damn years."

Joe says, "I feel like I'm missing something."

John looks up from Sherlock. For a second, he looks haunted, war-torn, but he takes a deep breath and pulls himself together. "I guess you deserve to know a little more about us."

John

Barry runs back in. He has an African American man and a blond woman with him. The latter must be Felicity, so the former is Diggle.

Felicity asks, "So these are the breachers?"

Cisco nods. "Barry, you already explained?"

"Yeah. John and Sherlock, meet Felicity and Diggle. They're Oliver's partners."

Sherlock sits up, this time, throwing my hands off. Maybe I didn't prove my point after all. "Barry? You looked more like a Grant to me."

Barry—not Lightning Man, Barry—glares at Cisco. "Cisco!" He reaches up and pulls his mask off also.

Cisco jumps. "Don't you have to read me my rights or something? Besides, in my defense, they already know Oliver's name. And there's not a price on your head." There's a price on Oliver's head? Then I remember how casually he shot Sherlock and stop being surprised.

I really do think we owe them that explanation. They did just save Sherlock's life. "We...solve crimes. I blog about it."

Sherlock and I laugh. The quote ends, He forgets his pants, in reference to Sherlock.

Everyone looks at us. Felicity asks, "What?"

Sherlock finishes, "It's a thing. From three years ago. Mature, John."

I feel like we're ostracizing everyone else, so I add, "It's part of a thing, at least. It ends, 'He forgets his pants.'"

"Ah yes. I was wearing...a sheet, at the time, I believe. We were in Buckingham Palace." Cisco, Felicity, and Barry all start laughing.

"Anyways, we solve the crimes the police can't. That's why Sherlock can read you. Because he needs to be able to read a crime scene or a suspect."

Cisco asks, "The three strike thing?"