"Move out! Go go go!"

The hot heavy heat, drenched in sweat, dripping down his face,

Then...pain.

"Watson!"

...excruciating pain, burning through his left shoulder,

"I don't think he's going to make it docter..."

"Give it time! Let him dream..."

That voice..he knew that voice...

"John, come back to me.."

"Sher..."

Then he woke,

The pain in his shoulder from the bullet wound was real, as was the sweat.

John Watson closed his eyes and slowly counted to 10...

1...2...3...

Every odd number was an intake of petrified breath, even was an outtake of calm, relaxed breath.

4...5...6...

Just a nightmare, it was just a nightmare, keep telling that to yourself, John thought.

7...8...9...

"How the blog going?"

"Fine, its going fine."

Silence.

"You haven't written a thing have you?"

"You just wrote still has trust issues"

"You read my writing upside down."

John admitted that, his phycologist was right. He does that a lot to people.

No nasty surprises.

"John"

He looked up, the woman physiologist, whatever her name was leaned in to him,

He could smell her shampoo...

...strawberries?

"Writing a blog about everything that happens to you will help!"

No, it wasn't strawberries, but raspberries.

John chuckled.

"Nothing every happens to me"

2000 miles away a woman dropped dead, and an angel woke from its slumber muttering a name.

"Hamish! His middle name is Hamish!"

...10