Fear swirled in his eyes as he looked down at his chest. Puddles of blood stained his once white sweater, making him chuckle at the contrast of the two. The icy brutality of the snow numbed him to the pain that surely would've made him black out if he could feel it. As soon as he felt the metal entering his body John knew it would be lethal, his mind immediately supplied facts of where it hit, how long he had, and different treatments but he didn't care. No one would be able to help him, not in time at least. With that knowledge ringing in his head, John grabbed his mobile from the snowbank, letting out a pained breath and watching it swirl in front of him. Once the device was in his palm he quickly - or as quickly as a dying man could move - he dialed the number. After the second ring did it finally pick up, filling John's ears with the familiar voice.
"What is it?" Not even blinking at the harsh greeting John took a shaky breath.
"Hey Sherlock, just thought I'd tell you I'd be late." John's eyes glanced down at the almost soaked jumper. "In fact, I wouldn't expect me home till later."
"Very well John. I'll inform Mrs. Hudson later, anything else?" Sherlock's boredom was evident but the dying doctor didn't want to let him go just yet.
"Yeah. I love you." John said, desperation bleeding into his tone.
"Yes, John I know. I love you too, now if that is all I would like to get back to this experiment."
"I-I understand. Just remember that...I love you o-okay? And I'm sorry Sssherlock. I never want..wanted to leave you. Goodbye Sher.." With his lover's name on his lips, the phone line went dead. Groaning softly John shifted with a jolt making pain curl up his spine. The onyx coloured mobile slipped back into the blood-stained snow. Looking up slowly the soldier saw a tangle of stars making him smile softly. At least he got to say goodbye. John's eyes fluttered closed and his chest finally stopped moving, right as a storm of blue and red lights finally appeared, and a curly haired detective not far behind.