It was pouring down with rain. John stood there in a half lit room with a silhouette in front of the window. There was a man lying on the floor. He was dead. The puddle of blood was getting larger and almost touched john's shoes.
John pulled out his gun and pointed it at the shadow that stood in front of him.
"Who are you and what having you done?" He said sharply.
No response.
"Tell me now or I'll shoot."
"John?"
John looked puzzled.
"I'm sorry John, I couldn't stop myself"
John suddenly recognised that voice and lowered his gun a little.
"Sherlock?"
The shadow was walking towards him until it reached the light. There he stood it was Sherlock covered in blood.
"Tell me you didn't do this."
Sherlock looked down at the body.
"She was right then, psychopaths get bored" John sounded surprised.
"I've told you john. I'm not a psychopath; I'm a high functioning sociopath"
He looked up at John and moved closer.
John raised his gun again.
Sherlock had moved in so close that the gun was now at his chest.
"Are you going to shoot me John?" He smiled.
John stared at him in the eyes. He couldn't shoot his best friend.
Could he?
