Sherlock Holmes was standing in his room at 221B Baker Street staring out of the window. His friend and lover John Watson was stood behind him hugging his waist. "What's wrong Holmes?" Watson asked as he watched his lover's tears.
"I miss them," was all Holmes said and he turned around burying his face in Watson's chest.
"Oh Holmes. I miss then too," Watson soothed. Both lovers had just had a pair of triplets through Watson's wife Mary. But when Mary found out John's intentions she killed the children and herself. The children were six months old and all were boys. One was named Alfred, one was Bentley and the other was called Cameron. Cameron was attached to Holmes and the other two were attached to Watson. Which was how Mary had found out. Watson walked over to the sofa and laid Holmes down with his head in Watson's lap. Soon Holmes was asleep and Watson was gazing out of the window humming a lullaby they sang to the triplets. Soon Watson was asleep also.
~Page Brake~
Watson was jerked awake by a clap of thunder and a light show of lightning. He saw Holmes sat by the window again. But this time he was watching the lightning with a small smile. Watson walked over to Holmes and hugged him again. All of a sudden Watson was blinded by a light and he felt like he was flying and being thrown about. He blacked out just as he hit the ground unaware of where he was or where Holmes was.