John opened his eyes again and the living room materialised around him. He looked down and Sherlock was still on the floor. John lifted up his own shirt and saw a purple bruise where Sherlock's arm had collided with him when they both fell through the roof.

"We have to go and tell Lestrade" John said quietly.

"No we don't" replied Sherlock.

"We can't just let that thing roam the streets. You broke a door down remember, it could escape!"

Sherlock sighed and sat up without using his arms.

"Sherlock, you just don't want to go and see Lestrade because you're afraid Daddy will tell you off for disobeying him".

Sherlock screwed up his face.

"Don't call him that. I just think it would be best if he didn't know."

"Well, I'm going! You can either come with me or stay down there on the floor."

John walked dramatically into the hallway and started putting on his coat, he went into his bedroom and retrieved his shoes, making enough noise so that Sherlock knew he was serious. Eventually Sherlock walked out of the living room and put his coat and scarf on without saying anything. Exchanging glances, they walked out of the flat.

Finishing recounting what had happened; John looked up at Greg Lestrade's face, who was sat behind his desk open mouthed.

"Have you two been smoking something? Is this some kind of joke?!"

John shook his head slowly.

"There has to be some kind of rational explanation" Greg said in response.

"I did try and tell him that" Said Sherlock through gritted teeth.

Greg made a noise of discontent and put his head in his hands. He sighed deeply.

"Well, I guess I will have to go down there, you two will have to come too, I cannot believe you went in there Sherlock! Actually yes I can! You've put my job on the line, not to mention this country's national security-"

"I hardly think the ambassador will start a war because someone went into his building!" Sherlock said laughing "and anyway we didn't go in through choice, gravity made the choice for us."

He was soon silenced when Greg flashed him a 'look that could kill'. He began to make calls. Sherlock recommended they take some large powerful lights to fully investigate, Lestrade gritted his teeth and nodded. John sensed that sometimes Lestrade did not always find Sherlock's 'help' all that helpful. Sherlock began to give directions to the alley that John and he had burst into after exiting the building and Lestrade repeated them to the officer on the other end of the phone.

They arrived at the alley along with 10 police offers, a few with police dogs and a forensic team, armed with forensic equipment and lighting equipment. The officers with the dogs rounded the corner into the alley first; one called out and Lestrade, Sherlock, John and a few other officers ran around the corner. There on the floor, by the broken door lay a figure. John ran up to it and knelt beside it.

"That's it that's the zombie!" he shouted.

It –rather he- was ashen grey, covered in blood and as John looked further also covered in huge bite marks. In daylight, it didn't look much like a zombie at all. John felt confusion burning inside him. He felt for a pulse but there was none. Lestrade radioed for an ambulance and the police officers with the dog entered the disused building. John and Sherlock quickly followed.