A/N: (This start-note is identical to that of the twin-fic. 'Just so you won't get confused.)

Soooo, I decided to try something entirely new. At first I thought about giving just Sherlock his 'What happened during the time-skip?' story, but then it occurred to me that perhaps John deserves his own tale, too. Especially since it's clear that A LOT happened to them both during those months and years. So, here we are. I'm about launch a twin story. Oh dear…! (chuckles)

TO GET IN TO THE WORLD OF ONE OF THESE STORY-TWINS READING THE OTHER IS IN NO WAY NECESSARY. So no worries!

FULL SUMMARY: What happened to Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson during the time Sherlock was dead to the world? Each fighting the war on their own, they struggle to survive in a world that will never be the same again. We all know how the journey ended. But what happened along the way?

THE LENGTH OF THE CHAPTERS WILL VARY GREATLY.

DISCLAIMER: Oh, if only…! But nope, I'm not one of those FANTASTIC people who gave us this gift of a series. (sighs gloomily) There will be some quotes in this fic, and nope, I don't own those, either.

WARNINGS: SOME SERIES 3 SPOILERS. Adult themes. Violence. Gore. Depression. Language. (blinks, and looks around) Um… Anyone there…?

Alright, folks…! Since this is REALLY new and nerve-wrecking for me I'd better get going before I change my mind. (gulps) I REALLY hope that you'll enjoy the ride!

My Side of the Story, Sherlock Holmes

June – Homeless

Sherlock Holmes hated the small, shadowy, windowless room around him. According Mycroft Holmes it was the safest place in the world. To him it was a prison. Or perhaps a tomb.

Well, technically he was a dead man…

Sherlock breathed in deep, then out, almost persistently enough to make himself feel dizzy. It didn't really help. His mind kept spinning around in circles while he was supposed to focus on the long, merciless chase ahead of him.

/ "Nobody could be that clever."

"You could." /

Dr. John Watson believed in him. Fiercely. Without a doubt. Despite everything he'd done to the doctor, despite all the things that he'd said, although according to all sense the former soldier should've been running away as fast as he could. If anything John had been running to follow him from the very beginning.

This… What Sherlock just put that stupidly loyal man through… Even he could tell that it was a lot of not good. He wondered if it was unforgivable.

He also wondered if he'd get the chance to find out.

Sherlock's eyes darted towards Mycroft when the man entered the room. His brother's eyes were as infuriatingly unreadable as always. "In case you're wondering, Dr. Watson made it home safely. At the moment he's under strict surveillance."

Sherlock gritted his teeth. His left hand twitched slightly under a wave of unwanted sentiment. The silence stretched before he broke it. "When am I going to get out of here?"

Mycroft gave him a dry look. Nearly rolled his eyes. "Would a simple 'thank you' hurt, Sherlock?"

Sherlock met the look with a haughty, pointed one of his own. He lifted his jaw a little. "I'll thank you once you've successfully completed the task appointed to you." He gritted his teeth. "Now when… am I going to get out of here?"

Mycroft sighed, like a parent beginning to grow tired of a acting up child. "We both know that we need to wait for a while. For the dust to settle. For the curiosity of people to become fixed elsewhere. Right now you're the one everyone in the whole city is speaking of. We can't risk you being seen just yet." At that very moment the older man seemed to see far too much. "As for your other request… Yes, I will continue to keep an eye on Dr. Watson. I'll have to be discreet, though. As it turns out he's quite cross with me right now. His loyalty to you is almost endearing."

Sherlock didn't say anything. Couldn't find the words. Instead he emitted a gruff, clearly displeased sound and lay down, pointedly turning his back on Mycroft.

"Alright, then. I'll need to go and call mommy. She's quite anxious about all of this." Clearly deciding that he'd had enough of his younger brother's attitude Mycroft turned, beginning to head out of the room. "Rest well, brother dear. You are most certainly going to need it."

Sherlock barely heard his brother leaving. All he could focus on were his tangled thoughts and the quite new, unpleasant feeling swirling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't name the feeling but it intensified whenever he thought of the path ahead of him.

He took a brand new deep breath, his fists balling.

As it was Sherlock was on his way to the unknown. But if he'd manage to fight hard enough, if he'd survive… One day he'd make it back home. To John.

That thought, a distant and unreliable promise, was enough to lull him into a couple of hours of dreamless sleep.

TBC OR NOT?

A/N: Poor Sherlock! Sherlock's in for such a long, tough ride. And all he wants is to go back home. (winces)

Soooo… Was that any good, at all? Or should I just cut this one short?

PLEASE, let me know your thoughts! It'd mean a lot to me, especially at the beginning of a new story. (Or is it 'stories'…?)

In any case, thank you so much for reading! (hugs) Maybe I'll c ya guys again soon…?

Take care!