a/n sorry it's another shorter chapter gys, i just love to keep the suspense :P

The man was clean from the neck down, but he hadn't touched his face. He seemed content just lying back in the tub, soaking up the warmth.

John sighed and took a clean flannel from the radiator, dipping it in the warm but now slightly dirty bathwater and dabbing it softly against the man's cheek. When he got to the jaw line, the man hissed and pulled back.

John frowned and looked closer. Now that he had rubbed away most of the muck from that side of his face, he could see that the jaw was swollen, as was that side of his neck.

"So that's why you can't speak properly, hmm?" He asked softly. The man just glared at him, saying nothing, as John inspected his jaw.

"Look, I'll clean the rest of your face up, get you dressed and bandaged up, and then we'll see what we can do to get the swelling down, hmm?" He cooed as he gently turned the man's head to the other side and started dabbing at the muck around his eyes. As he glanced up at his eyes, smiling reassuringly, he did a double take. His eyes were that grey-blue that Sherlock's had been. And it wasn't just a small resemblance either. It was uncanny. John's breath caught in his throat as he blinked away tears, decidedly staring at the man's other cheek and nose as he dabbed. He rubbed softly down the man's cheekbone, revealing it to be prominent and pale. He really gasped this time, as he pulled back and took in the man's face.

The ruffled - definitely black, now that it was clean – curly hair which hung about most of his face. The pale skin, the prominent cheekbones. Christ, those eyes.

"Sh-Sherlock?" John ventured, so quiet it was hardly audible. The man's thin, pale red lips curved upwards slightly in the world's smallest smile.

"Mmm," he hummed softly.

John's breathing quickened, his heart racing. As he stood up, utterly dazed, his vision darkened and he crumpled to the floor.