I don't own Sherlock, BBC, or any of the characters, etc. Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat, are the real creators of the show. All this work is for entertainment purposes only, not for profit or gain. Enjoy!
An icy chill fills the air, as Sherlock makes his way to the edge. Painful words repeat over and over, tormenting his mind.
No! Sherlock.
No! Sherlock.
The detective steps onto the edge, eyeing the tiny cars down below him, causing a mixture of fear and sadness to shiver up his spine. He swallows hard. "Goodbye John."
"Go ahead Sherlock, jump." Sherlock turns around, on the narrow ledge he's standing on and puts away his phone into his coat pocket. There's is nothing there, did I imagine it, Sherlock questions himself, as he jumps off the ledge.
The detective chalks it up to an active imagination, and turns back around towards the edge.
"Don't think you can fool me Sherlock."
A blond haired man dressed in an army uniform, suddenly appears in front of him, startling him a bit. His comforting brown eyes seemed familiar, along with a scar on his right hand.
Sherlock was about to embrace him, but something was terribly wrong. His features suddenly turned from the qualities of the kind loving army doctor he once knew, to an evil imposter with eyes filled with cruelty. A wicked smile suddenly appeared on his lips, causing Sherlock to cringe.
It couldn't be a trick of Moriartys, Sherlock contemplated to himself, eyeing the lifeless body on the ground, wearing a grey suit.
"Oh, I assure you, I'm very real Sherlock."
"He even has the same lilt in his voice, as he pronounces my name. Whoever this imposter is, he's done his homework." Sherlock continues to silently mutter, under his breath...
"I should have known you were a fake, you obviously committed those crimes yourself. The world will see you as you truly are, a fake and a liar."
"I don't believe you. You're not John, so who are you?"
"If I'm not John? then why did I take the gun away from you that you were using to shoot at a smiley face on the wall? And why did you scare me in the lab, at Baskerville?"
"You're good I give you that, but you've made a mistake. The John I know, would never call me a fake. He has faith in me," Sherlock replies.
"If you say so." The figure walks over to the roof door, and goes inside. Soon, another man takes his place.
"Sherlock! are you alright? that man was keeping me prisoner, but I escaped."
"John, do you know his name?" Sherlock asks.
"No I don't, he did a cloning experiment on me to trick you. But that's not important. All that matters now, is that I'm free and with you." John embraces the detective, but the feeling soon ends as he can slightly feel the corners of his mouth move upward, against the rough fabric of his coat.
The detectives pulse races, as sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach returns. Icy cold shivers crawl up his spine, as he hears small obscene giggles, coming from John.
"This isn't real."
"You got that right."
John lets go of the embrace. Sherlock closes his eyes, as he pushes him over the ledge.
...
"Sherlock, wake up! This isn't real you're having a nightmare."
The detective opens his eyes and looks straight ahead at the periodic table poster on his bedroom wall. He was back in 221.B. But a shudder shakes his body once again. "What do you mean this isn't real? you weren't there, you couldn't possibly know unless?"
The sinking feeling in his stomach is back, as the John- like figure grins cruelly at him. "I'm sorry John. I'm sorry I left you." He repeats these words over and over, as he feels the tip of a riffle, touch his skin...
...
"I don't know but he has a slight fever, if he doesn't wake up soon-"
Sherlock's eyes flutter open. "John?"
"I'll leave you two alone." Mrs. Hudson walks out of his room, and closes the door behind her with a soft click.
"Yes Sherlock, I'm here, what is it?" John asks, his voice soothing as he slides his hand into Sherlock's...
"I'm sorry I left you, I... don't hurt me," the detective mumbles.
"Sherlock, I'm sorry I punched you that night, but I would never truly want to hurt you, although I do admit you have a tendency to drive me up the wall." John smiles reassuringly... "What's happened to you? Did you have a nightmare?"
Those words, could have only come from the John he knew. His smile, one that would never want to hurt him. One who cared. The detective jolts up in bed... "John it's you!"
"Of course it's me, who else could it be?" He furrows his brows and eyes the detective curiously...
John sees a tear, streak down the detectives cheek. Sherlock desperately clutches onto his hand. "Don't leave me John!"
Seeing his distress, the army doctor pulls back the covers and climbs into bed beside him. "Don't worry Sherlock, I'm not going anywhere." The warm, comforting presence of the army doctor beside him, made him feel safe. John tenderly wraps his arms, around the detectives body... Sherlock knew his brave, loving army doctor would protect him. John would always protect him.
The two of them, soon drift off to a dreamless sleep.
A/N: feel free to review:)