A/N: Hey, OK, so this is actually the first fic I wrote for Sherlock, but it is the second one I've posted! Um, I apologize if the characters are a bit OOC but, hey, this is my first try! :) Oh, also, before I forget, I do not own Sherlock, even though that would be amazing! Anywho, ONTO THE FIC!

They were chasing a suspect. Actually, Sherlock was chasing a suspect, John was chasing Sherlock.

It was mid January and the frosty air bit at his exposed skin as he ran. John Watson was not out of shape. He considered himself to be in quite good shape given his age and what he'd been through, being in the war and all. But he was no match for Sherlock Holmes, the man was a bloody athlete, and damn he could he run fast!

"Shit." John cursed under his breath when he realized he'd lost sight of his colleague. Where had he gotten off to? John knew he hadn't been that far behind.

Watson strained his ears, trying to hear something he just couldn't. The sound of the city corrupted his usually reliable sense of hearing. The cars and people were bad enough, but then there was the rush of water, it was so distracting. It seemed to mask everything else around him, cover the entire area in a huge blanket.

John let out a disappointed sigh, 'The river, he ran by the river!' Sherlock would've been insulting him right about then, if Sherlock had been there. Their Suspect, Danial Stark, grew up around this area which meant he knew it well. Every alley, every ditch, every little street he could take if he was trying to evade someone. Down by the river there were plenty of little nooks to hide in, little paths to take. But of course Sherlock had already known that. He always knew this type of thing, and often scorned Watson for not figuring it out.

John turned and began to retrace his steps, trying to find a path that led to the river bank. It didn't take long, like he had guessed, the path wasn't that far back, he had only missed them by a fraction of a second. If he had been going any faster, he would have seen them round the corner.

As Watson jogged down the path, he heard something. It was very faint, but he distantly heard it over the defining roar of the water. It sounded like someone yelling, shouting, but what exactly the person was saying was impossible to make out. Even still, it made John's blood run cold, and he quickened his pace.

As John got closer the voice cried out again. This time John could tell, they were male, they were yelling very loudly, and they were most definitely scared. Watson picked up his pace even more, practically sprinting now, because he knew that voice, knew that cry for help, because he hard it once too often.

"Watson!" The message was relayed clearly this time and John's heart began to race. He willed his legs to go faster, because his name was not called like that except when the man calling it was in serious trouble.

"Sherlock!" John screamed back, "Sherlock where are you!"

"Watson! Watson I'm-" But the rest of that statement was a mystery as words were replaced with a cry of terror and a splash.

John didn't have to ask what had happened, he had seen it. Just as Sherlock was calling his name, John had rounded a corner to see their suspect throw the consulting detective into the river.

"Sherlock!" John shouted, sprinting for the shoreline. He saw Stark running away, but he wasn't even contemplating going after him, all his thoughts were on the flailing man in the river.

The one peaceful water was now disrupted by the frenzied splashes of a one Sherlock Holmes. Somehow, in the back of his mind, John wondered why Sherlock didn't just swim to the shore, but he didn't really care. All he cared about was getting his friend out of the freezing cold water.

By the time John had reached the shore, the water was still, Sherlock no longer thrashing about, which was very alarming. Watson shed his top layer without thinking, leaving his suit jacket lying on the shore as he dove, head first, into the water.

It was freezing, and the initial shock made him want to gasp, which probably would have done him in. John resisted the urge, instead searching around frantically for any sign of Sherlock.

Unfortunately it was very late, and the water was almost pitch black. He couldn't see his own hands let alone another person. So John resorted to feeling around desperately in the water.

Twice he had come up for breath and he hadn't found Sherlock, but he wouldn't give up.

Once, just one John felt something brush his foot, he dove after it without a moments hesitation, throwing his hands out in front of him to act as his eyes.

John's heart began to race, if he didn't find Sherlock soon, there would be no hope. Then, in the dark, Watson round a glimpse of hope. Fabric, Sherlock's coat!

John grabbed for the cotton, knowing that at any second, Sherlock could be pulled away and he would surely die, if he wasn't already dead.

'No!' John scolded himself, 'Don't think like that! Sherlock will live, he has to!'

There was only one problem, Sherlock wasn't moving.

Observe

His lungs were burning, screaming for oxygen, his eyes stung from the cold water, and his fingers were numb. He'd lost feeling in his fingers a while back, his toes were going as well, it was only a matter of time before the rest of his body was frozen stiff. If he didn't get to the surface soon. He'd be no help to Sherlock, or anyone else for that matter, if he were dead.

Finally his hands broke through the thin layer of ice that had formed and John greedily sucked in lungfuls of fresh air.

As he swam to shore, Watson snuck a peek at Sherlock. His face was a frightening shade of white, his lips almost a solid blue. His head lolled to the side as John dragged his still form towards the shore.

'Dead weight.' John shook his head, Sherlock was not, could not, be dead.

After what seemed like a million years Watson flopped onto shore at last, gasping to catch his breath. He pulled Sherlock's lifeless body after him.

John dropped Sherlock down on his back, putting two fingers to the man's neck, John was alarmed when he found no pulse.

Watson was an experience doctor, and when faced with a crisis he stayed calm and acted quickly. Mere second could spell the difference between life and death in a situation like this.

"Sherlock, don't you dare die on me!" John shouted, bending to perform CPR on the prone man. 'You still have to clean up from your latest experiment!' He though, only half joking.

Almost a minute went by and nothing happened. John stopped and felt for a pulse again, nothing!

John cursed under his breath, looking around for someone who could help. Unfortunately, it was near one A.M now and it seemed the London streets were void of all life forms; or, the streets nearest them were anyway.

In one last desperate attempt John pulled Sherlock into a sitting position, smacking his back with an open palm.

Sherlock's body pitched forward, choking and spitting out the water in his lungs. John heaved a sigh of relief, siting back and looking at the starts, silently thanking whatever god was watching.

As Sherlock continued to work the water from his lungs, John pat his back, whispering comforting words in the man's ear.

Finally Sherlock had ejected as much water as he could. He fell back into John arms, exhausted and shivering. The cold had not yet begun to effect John, lasting effects from his adrenalin kick maybe? But Sherlock was nearly vibrating, his teethe chattering uncontrollably because of the cold.

Watson reached for his disregarded coat, wrapping it around the shivering consulting detective's shoulders.

"J-J-John." Sherlock chattered.

"Yeah?" John answered, attempting to rub some warmth into Sherlock's frozen arms.

"D-Did you g-g-get h-him?"

John shook his head in disbelief. The man had been attacked, thrown in the freezing water, nearly died, and he was worried about the suspect! That was Sherlock for you. "No, he got away."

"W-w-why'd y-you l-let h-h-him g-get away?"

"I had other priorities. Like saving your rear end!"

"Th-thanks."

"It was no problem."

The two sat in silence for a moment. Sherlock curling further into John's warm frame before Watson spoke, "We should get you to a hospital."

"N-n-no hospital."

"Well then, we should at least get you home. You need to warm up!"

Sherlock nodded in agreement, "N-no arg-gument there."

"Come on." John made to help Sherlock stand, but he stuck his arm out in protest.

"J-J-John, I c-can-"Sherlock began coughing again, then, without warning, he pushed John away from his body, falling onto all fours Sherlock gagged and began to vomit up the contents of his stomach, which at that moment was nothing but acid.

John stood and watched helplessly as his friend's body convulsed painfully. He could only hope it would be over quickly.

Sherlock coughed again, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I can walk." He finished. Sherlock's legs wobbled and he was barely half way off the ground when his knees gave out and he crashed back into the asphalt, or, he would have, had John not been expecting this and caught him at the last moment.

"Yeah, sure you can walk." John scoffed, lifting Sherlock easily and carrying him much like an adult would a small child.

Watson carried Sherlock all the way back to 221b Baker Street without much difficulty. Thanks to Sherlock's habit of "forgetting" to eat, the man weighed less than he probably should, which made Watson's job a hell of a lot easier.

When they arrived, John helped Sherlock change into something warmer and then settle into bed. He then took both their soaking wet clothes, which had nearly begun to grow icicles, and threw them in the dryer. When that was finished, he fixed a nice cup of tea and brought it to Sherlock, who drank it gratefully.

"So," John began, as he watched Sherlock carefully drink the hot liquid, "When you were thrown into the water, why didn't you just swim to shore?" He didn't mean to pry, this was just a question that had been bothering him since John had been sure Sherlock was going to be alright.

"I had hit my head, I was disoriented." Sherlock answered shortly, and the matter was dropped entirely.

Well, did ya like it, did ya hate it? Tell me what you thought and I'll post the next chapter just as soon as I can. :)