This was an old story that I wrote along time ago and never published it was originally going to be a carry on of 'The mind eating virus' but I'm just going to separate them.

This was actually the worst thing that I've ever written in my life I'm done with this story.

Although I absolutely hate the fact that I have to match the first chapters complexity.

As John sat in a coffee shop window, he sipped on his tea he was completely at peace with himself. Sherlock was back at the flat sound a sleep, John had got Sherlock to eat a full meal the night before, (which in John's mind he should win a Nobel peace prize) all was right.

As John sat at the window he noticed a crowd of people started to gather around the building, like moths to a flame. Then the sky went dark, the crowd of people started screaming and John's stomach curled. He had no idea why, it usually happened when Sherlock was in trouble.

Then, a body smacked into the ground in front of the window. John felt like he swallowed his hart as he watched a big black coat settle on the limp body on the pavement. All the blood rushed from John's face as he stumbled out the coffee shop and towards the crowd of people, now spilling into the streets.

"Get out of my way!" John yelled pushing through the crowd, all of them on there cellphones, calling for an ambulance.

"No no I'm a doctor let me check!" John argued at the people trying to tell him not to disturb the body. As he fell to his knees next to the man he still wasn't shure if it was Sherlock. John prayed as soon as he felt the mans non-existent pulse that it couldn't be his friend. But John's prayers where than cut silent as he flipped the body over to assess the damage.

When he rolled the man over he knew exactly who it was. It was Sherlock covered in blood with his eyes open but, any sign of life was deleted from his face. As John looked at his friends face it sent chills shooting through his body. It seemed as though Sherlock's eyes where looking straight through him as if John were a ghost.

All the mortified people's screaming and crying slowly terned into White noise as a ringing started to grow in John's ears. John's eyes filled up with tears that quickly started to stream down his face. He rapped his arms around his friend, like they taught him in military school to move a wounded warrior. He thought to himself that the ambulances would take too long, not second later he was running with his friend in his arms down the street twords the hospital.

John's mind quickly twisted as his surroundings started to change. The London builds that lined the streets terned into nothing but shells of concrete buildings. It looks like a city that John was once stationed in during the war. The streets and sidewalks disintegrated into dusty roads filled with puddles of blood with bodies of soldiers occupying them.

As John became confused he looked down at Sherlock who was now completely covered in blood but still in his big black coat and blue scarf. John looked at him self and gasped, he was not wearing the jumper that he put on this morning he was dressed in his old army uniform. Then, out of nowhere bullets started to rain down from the sky, John winced as a sharp pain came shooting through his shoulder and causing his leg to go limp. The two men collapsed to the ground, but as they fell John twisted himself so that Sherlock would never hit the ground, and he didn't.

John felt for Sherlock's pulse one last time before he confirmed his only friend as deceased. When there wasn't any movement under his White, turning blue, skin John pulled him into his lap and held Sherlock's head as if trying to comfort him from beyond the grave.

John's fingers found themselves weaving through Sherlock's curls. John's cry's terned louder and louder until he was screaming, he was just so mad at the world. John pressed his forehead against Sherlock's, and whispered through the sobs.

"I'm so sorry Sherlock I promise I will never leave you again, please just listen to me and wake up."

Just as John promised Sherlock he wouldn't leave Sherlock's legs started to disintegrate into sand. John looked up to see half of his friend completely gone and replaced by sand. John started to scream in frustration as he clawed at his friend in a final effort to save Sherlock, then the detective was gone nothing but dust.

Sherlock woke to a painful burning on his cheeks. John's hands were hitting Sherlock in the face. John's nails left a searing pain behind them as he dragged them through Sherlock's face and neck.

"What the hell, John what are you-." Sherlocks rant was cut off by John's screams. The detective jumped up and ran towards the lights flicking them on.

Sherlock's hart sank as he saw John's struggles. He had the most painful expression plastered across his face tears fell from his cheeks as he pleaded "Sherlock come back!". Sherlock wanted to help him but he didn't know how. Sherlock had blood streaming down his face so he wasn't sure if it was safe. But Sherlock put aside all his worries and walked over to John. He placed his hand on John's face, almost immediately John calmed down and held Sherlock's wrist, pushing the detectives hand harder against his face.

John's eyes flashed open, a panicked look staring back at Sherlock. Then the unthinkable happened, John's chest started to burn as he breathed in more frantically.

"O fuck John what's the matter?" Sherlock's mind then clicked, he's going into a panic attack.

"John tell me what to do herry before you stop b-" Sherlock gasped as his friends body went completely limp, his eyes still open, staring at Sherlock. Sherlock's hart moved into his throat as he franticly scrambled to find a pulse on John. Finally Sherlock's fingers found their way to John's neck, with a sigh of relief Sherlock felt John's rapid pulse under his finger tips.

Sherlock wonder what to do as John's whole body started to look too much like a corps. Then he remembered, John's voice rang through his head.

"Sherlock listen and breath when I do in, out."

Without hesitation Sherlock pushed John's body forward sliding himself underneath him and laying John's heavy head onto his chest. Sherlock over exaggerated his breathing in the hope that John would get the memo to breathe. John gasped in air, he jerked his body around as he quickly came out of his statue like trance. Sherlock noticed, that John was using his lungs to their full potential but he was becoming increasingly more violent to himself and Sherlock. John's hands still we're trying to rip Sherlocks face off, as he got carried away with it he kept smashing his hands against Sherlock's chair leg every time Sherlock would Dodge John's hands.

Sherlock decided that enough was enough so he maneuvered around John's body to pull him to the middle of the room. Sherlock caught a boot to his face as he grabbed John's legs, with one swift motion Sherlock yanked John to the middle of the room. Still holding onto John's body Sherlock inched his way onto John's hips to fully restrain him. Sherlock caught John's wrists and pinned them to the ground.

John's struggles to throw Sherlock off of his body were completely useless. John's mind was still fuzzy, he had no idea what he was doing he just knows he wants 'that thing' [Sherlock] off him. John then stopped struggling but lifted his head as close as he could to Sherlock's face and let out an blood curling scream. John's face terned red as he carried on with the terrible sound which caused Sherlock's ears to ring. John's mind started to come back online as his screaming cleared the air.

As John became fully aware at what was happening he was greeted back by a terrible sight. Sherlock's face was covered in blood with deep scratches all over it, Sherlock's eyes where threatening tears.

As John looked at what he had done he completely lost control of all of his emotions and started crying. As Sherlock relaxed in relief that it was finally over he rolled him self off of John and layed right next to him on the floor.

The two broken men layed there both crying at the horrors that they separately just witnessed. John rolled over facing Sherlock, he rapped his arms around him and buried his face into the detectives chest.

Unable to bring himself to push John away he cradled John's head to his chest and whispered words of reassurance that they were going to be okay.

Ok well that was shit lol thanks for reading.