Chapter 1

"You...you machine!" said John as he shook with irritation.

Two hypnotizing blue orbs turned to focus their gaze upon him; the silver of his irises seeming to be even more visible than they had been previously. A look of passiveness remained on his face as he studied John.

"Go to her, John. I am staying here."

Enraged John turned on his heel and left. He couldn't believe how cold Sherlock was being. He was so cold, it was almost as if John brought the chill with him as he angrily pushed through the doors and began to walk down the hall.

It was cold…

So cold…

"Get up!" shouted the brisk, heavily accented voice of a guard.

The metal clanged against the wall as John emitted a small groan from the spot he had been curled up onto on the floor. The floor was made of dirt and seemed to carry the frost from the snowy atmosphere outside. John squinted his eyes at the light that greeted his eyes from the daylight outside his cell. He turned his eyes towards the bars and saw a few snowflakes fall to greet him, slipping through the grate to grace him with gentle kisses.

When the guard saw how slow and sluggish John was being, he let out a sigh of annoyance and marched over to him. The guard had a hold of John's shirt collar before he even had a chance to react. John had been getting weaker by the day, so it wasn't like he would be able to react very fast anyway. The daily ration of gruel and water that they had been feeding him wasn't really providing him with much sustenance.

"It's time for you to go wash up. It's your lucky day," said the guard with a sinister chuckle to his voice.

Lucky day...Lucky day...Was it?...John was silent as he walked down the hall with the guard, casting his eyes to look at the dingy hall around him. What was today? He had been in here for so long that he had lost count of the days. The guard stopped at the end of the hall and turned to the left. He walked a couple of feet down the hall with a firm grip on John's arm before stopping and using his shoulder to open a door there.

"Wash up. We want you presentable for your execution."

His execution? Had it really been that long already? A mirror hung above the scum covered sink a few feet away from him. The guard shut the door and locked it as he left the room, not wanting John to try to run away. John sighed; he didn't have the strength to fight anymore. He walked over to the mirror and examined his face in it. He looked awful. A month of captivity had sure taken a hold of him. A small beard hung on his chin on his pale face. His blue eyes looked vacant, as if the life in them had died long before his body. He was a mess. He was always a mess.

Sighing, John stayed in the rags that had been given to him as clothing and walked towards the shower. He turned the water on and watched as it guttered to life. He sunk down onto his knees beside the shower and felt small specks of water fall down from above and hit his head. Water...Water like he had held in the cup at the hospital when he went to go see Mrs. Hudson and found she wasn't there...water…

"What do you mean she's not here?" asked John as he looked at the disgruntled doctor in disbelief. "Didn't one of your people just call me?"

"No, sir. I've already been over this with you."

"But the call…"

"Didn't originate from us…" said the doctor as he finished John's sentence. "Now please, just do yourself a favor and go home, alright?"

John just sighed and squeezed the foam water cup in his hands that a nurse had offered to him while he had been waiting for the doctor, causing stress marks to appear. John sighed and threw his cup into the rubbish bin before turning to make his retreat from the hospital. On his way out, his mind wandered back to Sherlock. Sherlock was still back at St. Bart's. He had to get back there.

He had to get back to Sherlock.

But Sherlock was dead…

Sherlock was dead...

John started to shake on his position on the ground, turning his face to glance up at the water pouring from the spout. Only it wasn't water anymore. Now it was blood...Sherlock's blood…

He got out of the cab and held the mobile to his ear, looking around the immediate vicinity for Sherlock.

"Sherlock...where are you?..."

"Look up, John."

John looked up and froze in horror when he saw Sherlock perched on the edge of the roof.

"Sherlock, get down from there…"

"John, stay right where you are…"

John, stay.

Your friend doesn't want to play.

He wants to fall;

Wants to lose it all.

The pile of blood from his head,

Shows the life leaving him as he lays dead…

Dead...

Sherlock Holmes is dead...

The guard was over to John before he even realized that he was screaming. The guard looked annoyed as he hauled the quivering man to his feet, reaching beyond him to shut the water off.

"Stop screaming...bloody…" He sighed clapping one of his meaty hands over John's mouth to silence the screams that still seemed to issue forth from his mouth.

No…

Sherlock, no…

John ran for Sherlock's body; his heart beating fast within his chest. He couldn't be dead. This couldn't have happened.

You machine.

You high functioning sociopath.

You idiot.

Why?

John got hit to the ground; his head spinning. None of this was making sense. None of this was…

John turned to look at the guard as he began to wipe some of the dirt off the side of his face with a washcloth. His body was still shaking as he watched him closely, noting that he was being somewhat delicate for once.

"You have to look presentable to meet your maker," said the guard without waiting for John to say anything.

John turned his eyes to look into the mirror beyond the guard's shoulder. His appearance looked different now. Now he looked like a human again, but he certainly didn't feel like a human. He felt broken. It felt like he had been the one to fall off the building instead of Sherlock. If only that had been the case. As he continued to gaze into the mirror, he noticed Sherlock's face appear. Sherlock…

He produced a small smile at that. If he died, at least he'd be able to be with his best friend again.

"I'm going home…" said John; his voice cracking as he said so. "I'm going home…"


AN: I am testing the waters with this fic. I have an idea on where I would like to take this, but I want to know what people think of it first, so please read and review. I want to hear what you think so far! Thanks for reading! :)