DISCLAIMER: I don't own Sherlock and I'm not gaining any money from this work of fiction.
This story had been going on in my head for a while and I needed to let it out.
Please forgive the grammatical mistakes because this fiction in unbeta'd and English is not my first language.

John couldn't stay still for a minute. All those voices. They accused him. Always.
"You shouldn't have gone!"

"You left him!"
"You are NOT a good friend! You are the worst!"

"All he did for you and this is how you return those favors?!"
"Shame on you, John Watson! SHAME!"

All these voices echoed around his head All. The. Time. He couldn't sleep. Couldn't eat. Nothing. At times, John screamed himself hoarse, telling those voices to go, to leave him, to let him just die. But they never listened. At the end of the day, John consoled himself, thinking that at least he could still here that voice. The voice, he ached to hear again. But the words spoken by it, repeatedly, did him no good. It was like trying to have a pet snake. Every time you try to pat it, it strikes back. Yet, you continue patting it because you love it.

"D-Don't leave me, John. I… I need y-you."

"Sherlock, are you serious? You really are gonna investigate this?!" said a very frustrated John Watson. He had been planning to take a quiet weekend for once (as quiet as it can be with Sherlock Holmes) , but no. Sherlock, had a received an absurd call from Henry Knight, telling them to come at once to Baskerville to investigate something. The ever eager for a case, Sherlock, packed a few clothes and other necessities

"Of course, John. It's a very dull subject, indeed, because it certainly isn't even possible, but I would like to find out what's causing people to see such visions. This can be considered like a vacation for my brain, for it is such a light case. You need to be more cheerful about it; it'll be a laugh."

"B-but, Sherlock, zombies?! It's just obvious it's a trick someone has played! Even I, with my 'average' brain can deduce that!"

"Oh John, did I not tell you? It. Will. Be. A. Laugh." Sherlock said, rolling his eyes. Honestly, John had to see the humor in the case. It could be like a vacation!

"Yes, you will, John." Sherlock said, without even glancing, at John.

"But I didn't say anything!" John spluttered.

"You are coming, and so is Mrs. Hudson."

"Mrs. Hudson? Sherlock, are you completely mad?"

"No, I'm a sociopath. And why not? She deserves a vacation too!"

"And whose gonna take care of her? I can't be her, nanny."

"You don't need to, John. Mrs. Hudson is quite capable of taking care of herself."

"Fine. But if she turns into a zombie, it's your fault! And if you turn into one, I will shoot, burn, stake and just destroy you, Sherlock Holmes!"

"I am sure many want to do the same as you." Sherlock said, smirking.

"Thank you so much for coming, Mr. Holmes and Mr. Watson. I can't tell you how much relieved I am -"

"When did you first come to know about it?" Sherlock said, cutting off Henry's long speech

"It?"

"The zombies, of course."

"Well, it was mentioned in the newspapers, that the young, Marietta, had just disappeared. And the last person to see her had seen her going to the cemetery. After a few days, a few local boys had gone to investigate, investigation has been a lot popular after you visited, Sherlock," Henry said, winking.

"Mr. Holmes" Sherlock interjected, sternly.

"Um, yes well Mr. Holmes," Henry cleared his throat, embarrassed, "and um, they never did return again."

"Never?" John questioned his eyes wide.

Henry nodded then continued," The other night, an American tourist, was passing by the cemetery. He saw those zombies. The undead. With their body all rotting and hungry for human flesh. They were however, not much in number and quite slow so, he was able to run."

"How did you come to know about this?" Sherlock asked, absentmindedly scratching his nicotine patches.

"The American tourist ran to my house. I saw his face, all white and his body shaking. And let me tell you, a fellow of that size? It would take something a lot scary to scare him."

"All right! Let's go investigate tonight!" Sherlock exclaimed with child like glee in his eyes, that only John spotted.

"Oh you most certainly can't go, young man!"

"Mrs. Hudson, I've never heard or seen zombies! It will be wonderful! You can come too."

"You would've seen them if you watched crappy telly." John muttered which Sherlock decided to ignore.

"I'm most certainly not going and neither are you, Sherlock. We just arrived today. You can take rest for at least one day."

"Mrs. Hudson, why do you even bother telling him not to go? You know, he will. He's impossible." John said, in a bored voice.

"No, I agree with Mrs. Hudson."

"See?" Mrs. Hudson said to John, smiling and looking fondly at Sherlock.

"Huh?" John grunted.

"I agree with her. Maybe I should have some 'fun' just for tonight."

"Now, you're talking! C'mon Sherlock let's have a drink. Scotch?

"I never do drink while on a case…"

"Sherlock. Scotch. You need to loosen up."

"Fine."

"Alright. You boys continue with your drinking and have fun. I'm going to turn in for an early night. Traveling doesn't do this old bones justice. "She said, kissing both of them in the forehead.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Hudson.!" Both John and Sherlock chorused, like little kids.

"Goodnight, dears." She said, going to her room.

After a few hours, having tasted all different kinds of drinks, Sherlock was completely inebriated. His was sitting on the couch, looking at John and giggling. John, who was not as drunk as Sherlock, found this behavior weird and asked him why he was giggling. To which Sherlock replied, "I find you really cute. And I have a massive crush on you, that's why!"

"Um, what?"

"Oh John, don't be foolish! I like you very, very, very, very much." With each 'very' Sherlock had come a bit closer to John. By the end, he was practically sitting in his crush's lap.

"You are very pretty, John." Sherlock said, biting his lip. "I wonder if you like me back."

John rolled his eyes at the consulting detective's childish behavior. Smiling, he gave Sherlock a kiss on the lips. Sherlock puts his arms around John's neck and John puts his arms on his hips. When they separated for oxygen, Sherlock was blushing. "That was my first snog. And it was very good. Thank you."

"My pleasure." John replied, looking at the fireplace beside them.

They sat like that for a long time. John kept on looking at the fire. Then all of a sudden as realization dawned on him, he whispered, "I love you." But, a soft snore told him that Sherlock had fallen asleep in his arms. John placed him on the couch, and brought the blanket from his room to cover him up. Then giving another kiss on the forehead, he retired to his own room. Before getting on his bed, John, thinking he had heard some noise, looked out of the window. But seeing nothing, he closed the curtains and fell asleep.

In the morning, John woke up hearing a lot of noise. Going to the living room, sleepy eyed, he was greeted with a shout of, "John Watson! You bastard!"

"What is it?!"

"You had me intoxicated last night and now I'm having this horrible hangover. Oh, everything pains. Will someone please turn off that infernal light?!"

"You can't turn off the sun, Sherlock." John said, sniggering.

"Don't you dare laugh." Sherlock said flopping on the couch. "I shouldn't have listened to you."

"Oh don't worry. I've got the cure, I'm a doctor after all. And was in the military too,-"

"Which you don't let us forget." Sherlock muttered.

"Where hangovers were unavoidable sometimes." John said, ignoring his companion.

Giving him a tablet and a strong cup of tea, John asked, "Do you remember anything from last night?" John heart was beating very fast. What if Sherlock did remember and then hated himself later? He couldn't let that happen. He loved Sherlock enough that to make him happy, John would disagree saying ," I love you." even though those were his true feelings.

"No I don't." Sherlock said, although his cheeks turned pink. But John did not notice that. He was too dejected. He mumbled that he was going for a bath, and went out of the room as quickly as possible.

Sherlock silently watched him go, leaving his tea untouched.

After having a nice wash, John decided to walk around the town a bit, enjoying the weather and view and also to see if he could find anything on 'the undead'. To his surprise he found the town quite deserted. Most of the others were also on the lookout for the friends and family. It appeared that within the night many people of the town had disappeared. Confused, John went to Henry's house to see if he had some information. Arriving there he saw that all the doors and windows were open and Henry was to be found no where. He hurried back to the hotel to tell Sherlock about it but found that he already knew.

"Sherlock! Sherlock, did you hear tha-"

"That everyone has gone missing. I know, John."

"Do you think that zombies, maybe?"

"Don't be a fool. Zombies don't exist. Now excuse me, I must take a walk to figure it all out."

"I don't think you should- "

"You should stay here and take care of Mrs. Hudson. Don't worry I'll be back before evening."

"But Sherlock!"

"Why don't you search up on some ways to kill zombies?" Sherlock said, winking and then going out the door.

John heaved a sigh and finding nothing else to do went on his blog although after sometime another tab was there on his screen with the title zombies.

"Oh dear, it is raining, John. Why don't you go and check up on Sherlock?"

John looked out of the window. It was thundering and raining heavily and was well past evening. Where the hell was he?! Putting on a raincoat and taking a gun, because his gut told him to, John headed out in the town. He walked and walked, calling out for Sherlock. After sometime he reached the cemetery. Being sure, that Sherlock had to be here he went in. He stopped and leaned against a grave when his bad leg had started to pain. All of a sudden someone pulled his coat and fell backwards with a scream. A cold hand clamped his mouth. Dreading the worst, John closed his eyes.

"John! John, open your eyes please… for god's sake, John."

"Sherlock? Sherlock! It's you! I've been looking for you. Why the hell where you-"

"Shh. John be quiet. It's real. It's all real! The undead they… they're here and …"

"Have you gone completely insane? Zombies are not real!"

"They are! I saw them. T-th-they are hunting for me now. Please John, we need to go."

John couldn't believe his eyes. Sherlock Holmes scared! Sherlock Holmes begging for help and telling they needed to run! From a case? He definitely needed help.

"Sherlock listen. You stay here and I'll go for help. OK? You'll be alright, don't worry. I'll be back soon. You'll be alright, here. They won't harm you. Just stay and don't move."

"D-Don't leave me, John. I… I need y-you."

"I'm bringing help. Don't worry; I'll be here in five minutes."

Sherlock nodded, scared out of his mind. He will be OK. He needn't worry. He had John.

John gave Sherlock his raincoat and ran out of the cemetery as quickly as his leg would allow. On his way, he saw another figure running towards him.

"Mrs. Hudson! What are you doing here?"

"You had forgotten your umbrella dear! I just came to give it to you."

"You- what! I'm … was …wearing a raincoat! Why would I need an umbrella?!"

"Oh, I couldn't see that. My old eyes don't work as well as they used t-"

"Mrs. Hudson. Go to the cemetery, there," he pointed in the general direction, "and help Sherlock. I'll arrive with an ambulance and doctors in five minutes"

She nodded and hurried towards it. John ran to the nearby hospital.

Arriving at the hospital, however John was surprised. There was no one there and blood caked the walls. He pulled out his gun and called out for a doctor. The lights started flickering. Hearing an infernal howl, John turned. Seeing, the sight in front of him his eyes grew wide. Henry,(it had to be him seeing that it was wearing the clothes he was last seen in) with his arms stretched wide in front was walking towards John, jaws snapping and blood coming out of his mouth in the scent of fresh flesh. John without a second thought fired his gun and dead Henry fell to the ground dead. Again.

John ran out of hospital. Finding a motorcycle there, he started it and drove back to the cemetery. He drove inside and called out to Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson to get them on a transport and get out of this hell hole as fast as possible. With the help of the headlight, he saw something that made him want to vomit. A figure wearing his raincoat was feeding on the body of an old lady. Getting off his bike, John started walking towards them. Hearing the old, the figure stood up and howled in delight as it saw John.

"I was only away for five minutes, Sherlock."

The living corpse of Sherlock Holmes tore off the old lady, that is, Mrs. Hudson's arm and munched on it, smiling grimly as he ate.

"Five bloody minutes."

John could neither stop his tears nor his shaking hands. He shot at his Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson, before she could rise. Unable to stand still, he leaned heavily on a grave.

"I want you to live, John. Go."

John turned around and saw him. Sherlock was there but his form was shimmering. Like a spirit

"Y-you are alive?" John asked, hoping against hope.

"I'm afraid not, John. But you need to go. Live. I would wish that."

"Why? I'd rather join you in death than live without you!"

"Because I love you." Sherlock said, kissing his tear stained cheeks.

It had been five years since that. Five years he had been without Sherlock. Yes, he did wish to die but those three words still kept him alive. In the midst of nightmares and voices, Sherlock's voice would work like an angel's and help him to still live. And that's what John did. He lived.

So how was it? Criticism appreciated. Do let me know! :D