Chapter 3


Sherlock was staggering along the sidewalk of Baker Street, To anyone who saw his silhouette in the night might have thought he was a drunk man walking home after a night at the pub. When he finally reached the door of 221B he felt like he was going to pass out. The only thing that kept him going-as it always has been-was seeing John and Mrs. Huston. He knocked on the familiar door, he hardly thought it was loud enough for anyone to hear, but he didn't have the energy to knock again. As he stood waiting for the door to open he had to lean a hand against the building for fear of falling over.

When the door finally open he had just enough energy to smile at Mrs. Huston, who dropped her tea. He would have asked if she was alright if his mind didn't go fuzzy, the world around him went black and the floor rushed up to him. Sherlock fell to the floor with a thud. Mrs. Huston backed up to the wall out of shock and to get out of the way of the fall consulting detective.

"J..J...JOHN!" Ms. Huston yelled


John and Lestrade heard the shattering of the tea cup, and the bigger thud that followed.

"What the hell was that?!" Lestrade jumped out of his chair and rushed to the door, ready to open it and see what the commotion was.

"wait, Greg." John stopped him "I...I think you should wait up here in case we need the police." Lestrade nodded and movie away from the door, but not to far in case John and Mrs. Huston needed him. John put his cup on the coffee table, stood up, and walked out the door of the flat to Mrs. Huston.

"Mrs. Huston, are you okay?" He called down the stairs, his voice full of concern.

"Yess... " Her voice was shaky and she sounded frightened.

John started down the stairs. when he reached the bottom he could not believe what or who he saw. A man that died three years ago lying on the floor in shattered glass and tea struggling to get up. His face bloody, battered and bruised. His black, curly hair matted with blood and now tea. His black coat was torn, and his blue scarf missing.

"Sh..Sher...Sherlock" John couldn't believe his eyes. The man who died three yeas ago, the man he missed dearly, the man who was he best friend, No, his only friend, was lying on the floor in a lot of pain judging by the moaning coming from him.

"...uggg...mmmh...uuufff..." Sherlock was trying to get up. He rolled over so he was lying on his stomach, moved his hands so they were above his head, his elbows bent at the side of his head. Cutting his hand of the broken tea cup as he moved it on the floor. He used his hands to push his torso up, so he could see John and Mrs. Huston. "mmmhggr..JJJJOH...uuufg" His hands slipped out from under him, due to lack of strength he fell back to the floor. Sherlock tried to get up again but John was next to him, forcing him to stay on the floor.

"Sherlock, stop trying to move, you'll just end up hurting yourself...more." John was in full Doctor mode, wanting to get Sherlock out of the pain he was in. "LESTRADE! get down here!"

As soon has Lestrade herd John call him he came running down the stairs fearing the worst. "Is everything okay? Mrs. Huston are you..." he trailed off when he reached the landing, then he saw who John was kneeling next to. "That's Sherlock!" he said out loud. He saw the state Sherlock was in and heard the moans of pain escaping from the consulting detective. "Oh God, is he okay? what happened?"

"I...I don't know... I opened the door and he was just standing there." Mrs. Huston explained what happened " he was just standing there smiling, I couldn't believe it! I was shocked! I dropped my tea and then he just collapsed! oh dear! Sherlock! Is he going to be okay, John?"

John was began to examine Sherlock. "God Sherlock what were you up to?" He asked to no one in cringed at the thought of what happened to his friend. "It looks like he's been beaten." He cringed even more when Sherlock started clenching his fist, and moaning in pain.

"Mycroft." Sherlock gasped, eyes wide, startling John. "Mycroft?" it was a question this time as if Sherlock didn't know where he was or who was around him. John was starting to get really worried, Sherlock was not acting anything like the Sherlock he knew, before all of this-whatever this is-happened. John really wished Moriarty was still alive, so he could see him behind bars or better yet so he could kill him.

"Greg, take Mrs. Huston upstairs. Then come back down here, please." John instructed.

Lestrade turned to Mrs. Huston and he put a hand on her shoulder "Come on Mrs. Huston, lets go up stairs." As they walked up the stairs back to the flat, Lestrade turned back and watched John care for Sherlock.


A/N: I like how this chapter turned out. Tell me what you think. Your reviews keep me going!

I really like snow days...gave me a chance to finish this chapter :)