DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to the writers/creators respectively
NOTE: Shout out to TheLonelyMonstersCompanion for acting as my editor :D

This is my first multi-chapter story, so any reviews would be fantastic! I want to know what you guys think :D

25/07/2015
It was five in the morning when the planes started. Loud annoying roars that slammed shut the doors of my mind palace and hauled my thoughts back into reality. The entirety of Baker Street shuddered as a fantastic explosion turned the night sky orange. John. I had to get to John. Pulling on my coat and grabbing my gun, I stumbled into the bedroom as another blast rocked the apartment.
"John? JOHN! Get up! We have to go! Now!" Grabbing John's shoulder I hauled him out of the bed and threw his jacket at him. "Get dressed. We have to find Mycroft."
"What? Sherlock what's going on…?" He froze as the apartment shook, orange light billowing into the room as the flat across exploded into rubble. Ignoring his oncoming PTSD I grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the staircase, pulling my vibrating phone out as we ran.
"We're outside Baker Street, black car." Mycroft's voice comes through the speaker. So calm, so irritatingly calm.

We burst through the doors and out into the open. This is what John meant by a 'war zone'. Buildings exploding, plane-like objects roaring overhead, and the screams. Typical human behaviour, to scream when they're scared or hurt, so pointless, and I hate it. The car ride was hell. John still had not broken out of his stupor and was staring mindlessly out the window. I could practically see the cogs rolling over in his head this isn't real, this isn't real. I want to help, I do, but I know I can't, so I follow his lead and stare out the window as the city I have grown to love goes up in flames. We arrive at our destination, an ominous grey warehouse surrounded by pillars of smoke.
"Get out. Go straight inside and turn right." Mycroft, trying to order me around. "Sherlock! Are you listening? This is crucial you have to have to do EXACTLY as I say? Do you understand?" Of course I understand, does he think I'm an idiot? That's what I ought to have told him. But I don't. I only nod, I need to stay calm, for John's sake if not for my own. We are herded into a room just as John regains mental consciousness.
"Sherlock? Where are we? What the HELL is going on?" I can hear his control slipping, his calm soldiers mind slowly breaking apart as his nightmares become reality. Breathing hard he looks around him, deciphering his surroundings in a way only an army-man would. I stop him with a hand on his arm.

"It's alright John. There's been an attack, but we're safe. Mycroft has a plan." I hate saying that, admitting that I have faith in my brother, it leads to too many promises, promises that are almost certainly made to be broken. Mycroft storms back in and I step back, giving him space to pace. He does that when he's stressed, has since we were little, quite irritating if I do say so myself.
"Right." He stops, faces John and I, "John you know the drill, you know what we are going to do correct?" Wait. What? What drill? I look to John expecting to see the same look of confusion, but he just gives a tight nod, avoiding my glance. "Good. Now Sherlock, John if you would follow me please." The rafters of the warehouse shudder and send a shower of dust onto our heads as an explosion rocks the building. "Quickly." Mycroft leads us out of the room and into a smaller, more intimate space. As I allow my eyes to adjust to the dimness I notice two tube-like tables sitting in the centre of the room. What is this? What has Mycroft gotten us into?

"John, what's going on?" I keep my voice down, the last thing I need is for Mycroft to hear my uncertainty, I'd never hear the end of it.
"Just do what Mycroft says Sherlock. It'll all be over soon." The tone of John's voice makes me uncomfortable, the finality of the words that he uses makes me think that something is going to happen, something that will change our lives forever.

"Alright. We don't have much time. I need both of you inside these tubes now." I stare at my brother incredulously, waiting for him to start laughing, prove he's joking around. But his face stays serious, and it's not until he again gestures to the claustrophobic tubes that I shake my head.
"No. No way in hell. I am NOT getting in those things." I'm speaking too quickly, have to pull myself together, I breathe in deeply and stare my brother squarely in the eyes. "No."

"Sherlock, I understand that you may be uncomfortable with this due to your claustro…"

"THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING." The silence is deafening. So deafening that I'm almost appreciative for the blast that again rocks the rafters of the warehouse. John looks inquisitively at me, then Mycroft. His mouth forms a silent 'O' as realisation hits him and he gives a tight nod. I turn to look at John, our eyes meeting for only a brief second before he turns back to my brother, but that's all it takes. All the pain, self-control and absolute terror John was going through at the moment flooded into my mind. I knew I had to keep him safe. John. My John. He knew that whatever I chose, he had to live with as well, and it was obvious to see that the idea of re-entering a war-zone absolutely terrified him. Collecting my thoughts I sighed quietly. I know what I have to do.

"I'll do it." John and Mycroft stop mid-conversation to look at me, to check that I'm serious I suppose, that's what people seem to do. "You heard me. I said I'll do it." I exchanged a glance with John, and I could see a look of relief spreading over his features. But there was something else. John was nervous, that part was easy to see, but why? He knew we were safe, so why the constant nervousness? Mycroft raised an eyebrow before nodding approvingly.

"I knew you'd see sense eventually. On you go." His voice had a type of finality to it as he stepped out of our path. Breathing hard I arranged myself into the tube, laying down I quickly became aware of how small these things really were, I don't think I can do this. But before I could have second thoughts Mycroft's face appeared above mine, he was trying to hide something. But nobody hides anything from me. He was sad, my brother was getting emotional. I attempted to sit up, demand to know what was going on, but Mycroft's hand on my shoulder forced me back down. "Goodbye Sherlock." My eyes widened as the lid began to close. Goodbye? What did he mean goodbye? Again I tried to sit up, did everything I could do get myself out. But the lid was closed. Latched. I was trapped. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. I could already feel myself starting to lose it, but I didn't have time for dramatics. Just as I began to shout, a thick steam of gas flowed into the tube. Holding my breath as best I could I banged on the glass. Desperate. Pleadingly. I could just see Mycroft through the foggy lid but my lungs could hold out no longer. Gasping in quickly I see a tear run down my brother's cheek, my vision grew fuzzy, and then…nothing.

Tell me what you guys think! I plan to continue with the next chapter ASAP.
Reviews would be awesome :D