Bang. John launches out of the bed, gun out. Bang. Tearing down the stairs he turns off the safety. Bang. He bolted downstairs, slipping on the last step and crashing backwards onto the cold hard floor. there was definitely going to be a bruise. Bang. Lying on the floor, blinded by the psin in his lower back, John's mind began to race. Was there infected outside? Survivors breaking in? Was Sherlock okay? Panic and fear grew in John, fear for his safety and the safety of his temporary housemate. Quickly he pushed himself back onto his feet and tore into the kitchen. There stood Sherlock with a hammer in one hand and the other holding a wooden plank against the previously shattered window.
"What the hell are you doing?" John demanded, rubbing his aching back.
"Re'airing." Sherlock replied with a mouth full of nails.
"Do you have any idea how important it is to be quiet?!" John limped towards the window and checked the surroundings.
Sherlock calmly placed the hammer onto the counter and removed the nails from his mouth. "Of course John. I'm not an idiot I checked the surroundings before I started." John walked towards the cupboards huffing. "I noticed that you already collected nails and boards so I decided to start the job for you."
He took out two tins and the can opener, while twisting the lids open John noticed the time, 7:15
"But this hour in the morning!"
"I was bored." Sherlock took a step back and admired his work.

Both John and Sherlock were sitting at the table eating up the tinned fruit, Sherlock kept pulling faces of disgust after every bite but feeling guilty after rudely waking John he decided to keep quiet.
"I miss bread." John said absent mindlessly. Sherlock was useless for small talk.
"Where's the water?" Sherlock asked ignoring Johns statement. He stood, up not waiting for an answer and checked the fridge. Even though there was no electricity to run the fridge inside it there were several cans of beer, coka-cola and bottles of water.
"Creatures of habit." Sherlock muttered while extracting a bottle from the fridge.
"Make yourself at home why don't you." says John annoyed. The man hasn't been here for a full 24 hours yet it felt like he's been here his entire life. He acted like it too.
"Well you did ask me to stay." says Sherlock smirking slightly.
"No I invited you to stay the night."
"Oh would you like me to leave?" He picked up the can and makes his way towards the exit.
"No! No, you could stay. If you'd like to."
Sherlock looks down at the man, giving him a small smile and sits on the chair again. They finished breakfast in silence.

After breakfast the two men decide to continue the improve the home's defenses. First step was the windows, they were sitting ducks in the case of an attack. Sherlock proved that by breaking in last night. After an hour of hammering and occasional cursing from John, Sherlock bored with the constant sound of hammers on wood began the conversation.
"How long have you been by yourself?"
"A while." Sherlock realised that he was on a sensitive topic but none the less he needed to know more.
"What happened?" His eyes cast downwards to John's hand. "What was her name?"
John swallowed. "Who's?"
"Your wife's."
John began to muttered something about checking the ammo supply and walks out, not taking a second look at Sherlock. He wasn't angry at Sherlock, he understood that he was only trying to make conversation but he just didn't want to talk about it.
"Certainly not trying that again." thought Sherlock as he returned to his work.

When Sherlock finally finished boarding the windows he walked into the living room to see John staring at a map pinned onto a wall. He instantly recognises the map as the town down the road. The red lines across certain building implying that they've been searched, others has circles and little notes on the side. One part of the town had a large square around it with the words "Off limits" surrounding it. Sherlock sat on the couch, his chin resting on his fingertips. He began to study John's map, it was important information if Sherlock ever plans to go into the town but why is the northern sector off limits. Just before he could speculate on that thought he remembered his earlier conversation.
"Mary huh?"
"What?!" John spins around clearly furious.
"Her name was Mary."
"How. Did. You. Find. Out." John's voice began dangerously quiet. Sherlock looked at the shorter man, he felt strange, it took him a moment to figure out what he felt. Sympathy.
"You were muttering it while I was working. John I know-"
"You know nothing!"
"I know everything." John gave him a look of pure anger. Sherlock took this as an opportunity to show off. "I know you were a soldier who fought in a foreign country where you were shot. I know you then met your wife and married. I know you were a doctor and you blame yourself for not being able to save her."
John's mouth opened and closed a few time before he gives up trying to speak. Tears are forming in his eyes when he turns back to the map. Sherlock, realising he went too far leaves the man in peace. His vision blurry John looks up at the northern section of the map before falling to his knees in a quiet sob.

The autumn sun is high in the sky when John decides to get ready to search for supplies. He considered inviting Sherlock but remembered the encounter earlier and decides against it. He briskly puts on his coat, his bag and grabs his trusty crowbar before exiting the building. He took a few steps past the fence before coming to a stop. Even though Sherlock had acted quite rude earlier he was 100% right with what he had said. John being secretly impressed with the man and realised that he would be handy in his search for food. He looked at his watch knowing he only has a few hours of daylight left.
"I supposed I'll need him.." mumbled John, eyes still focused on the watch he turned around to come face to face with a walker. The creature lunged on top of John, taking advantage of his brief distraction. The monster was heavier than John and stronger. John was just only able to prevent the walker from getting an instant bite into his neck and was left using the crowbar to hold the zombies head away from him. Unable to push the monster off of him John focused on preventing it from biting him while frantically trying to formulate a plan before his arms give away. Too many people have died this way, John didn't want to die, at least not like this. If he wanted to go he'd much rather a bullet, that way he wouldn't hurt anyone else.

The zombies teeth were slowly edging closer and closer to Johns skin when suddenly there's the familiar crunch of bone breaking as a hammer smashed into the walkers skull. It fell lifeless onto John's beating chest before two hands grab it and throws it into the ditch. John looks up to see his savior as the curly haired Sherlock. Sherlock extends a hand to which John gladly accepts. Back on his feet John opens his mouth to say thank you but Sherlock interrupts saying.
"I heard you leave so I decided to follow. I would of been here quicker but I had to find my coat." Sherlock was looking around John trying to spot anymore dangers.
"Thanks" John said feeling his cheeks go red.
"Honestly don't know how you survived this long."
"I was distracted."
"Clearly." Sherlock smiled at him. "Let's go shopping."
The two men let out a small giggle. John knew he shouldn't be giggling after an ordeal such as this but he didn't care. It felt good and he hadn't felt this way in a long time.