I run across the field, dodging spells left to right as shouts and screams filled the air. I see your body a few meters away and sprint towards it.

"Sherlock!"

I kneel down and quickly check your body for vitals. You're barely lucid. Your eyes are half-open and your breathing is shallow. The pulse is way too slow for my liking.

"Sherlock, come on, stay with me," I cup my hands around your face and turn those eyes towards me. I can see you're struggling, you're struggling to keep awake, struggling to stay in the world. My heart breaks just to know you're doing this for me.

"Jhn',"

"Yes, it's me, I'm here." I start to unbutton your shirts. They are soaked and I tried not to imagine how you would look on an operation table. Someone has been using gouging and cutting spells.

"Oh Sherlock,"

I begin to shift him so that I could get a better look at the wounds until you cried out in pain.

"Sherlock?"

You gesture at your leg and under the dim light I could see it's broken. Badly. My heart drops. There's so many wounds I wasn't sure where to start with. Immediately, I started first with healing your open wounds. The broken legs could come later.

"Lumos,"

I knew I prepared myself to see your wounds. I guess I wasn't prepared enough. You're slipping so I have to work fast.

"Vulnera sanentur,"

I am so absorbed into your wounds I didn't notice the figure behind me.

"John-"

You're panicking, why are you panicking?

Before I could register what was going on, you push me away with a surprising force. I barely had the glimpse of the man's boot when-

"Avada kedavra!"

"NO!"

A flash of green light. The man's high-pitched shrill of laughter. My mind goes blank. Without thinking, I raise my wand.

"Expelliarmus!" The death eater's wand fly off.

"Stupefy!" I didn't even leave time to check whether he has fallen or not. Instead, I rush to your side, cradling your head, fingers checking for a pulse. My chest hurts so much. I come back with none. Your blank eyes stare back at me, pupils frozen in place. Your chest no longer rose up and down in shallow breaths and I feel the wall break inside of me as fresh tears drip onto your stained clothes.

"Sherlock," my words come out as choked. I feel like I'm drowning and there's no way to swim back up again.

"Sherlock, please," I'm begging you. But there's no response. Just the war, still going around me, moving on as if nothing happened.

No.

"Sherlock!"

NO.

You can't do this to me, you just can't. I want to slap you, kick you, punch you awake. Yet in the end, I just break down.

"Sherlock, please," I rest my head in the bow of your neck, tears spilling everywhere as if mourning will bring you back. I'm begging you, Sherlock. Please. Please come back. Just one more miracle.

But you never woke up. My hands are stained red. I can barely grip my wand properly.

"I'm sorry," the unspoken words that surround me. Screams of death fill the sky. A cold body rests in my arms.

"I'm sorry," you used the last of your strength to save me. There's nothing I can do to repay you.

"I'm sorry," I'm sorry I didn't save you fast enough. I'm sorry I was so careless. I know words do nothing. Yet I hold on to the last spark I have, hoping that this may be all just a dream. I gently slide your eyes shut. There is no time to bury you. So I whisper a silent farewell and left to join the war.