(brackets indicate a dream sequence)
John shook his head. "What?" Sherlock looked concerned. "Wait.. Mycroft in a dress?" Sherlock tried not to giggle at the expression on John's face, who was now , most likely, imagining such a scenario. "I had to get your attention somehow. Whats the matter?". John handed the crutches to his friend. "See for yourself" The doctor was beaming. Sherlock used the crutches, rather unsteadily still to enter the room after the doctor, who still couldn't stop smiling.
It was night outside so Sherlock had expected a dark, cold room but it was lit by the hundreds of lights adorning a magnificent, plastic, Christmas Tree. It gave the room a warm golden glow. There was a roaring fire and decorations strewn across the room. There was even a santa hat on the skull. He moved to the couch and sat down, still quite in shock.
" Hey they cleaned up the kitchen!" Exclaimed John, quite happy. The table was cleared off, with a Christmas themed table runner across it. He limped to fridge and opened it. "And we have food!" And there was no body parts in the fridge either! He opened every cupboard door to find more food. Even his jam shelf was full.
"John!"
The doctor limped into the other room. "What is it Sherlock?". The defective didn't answer, simply pointed to the mantle piece where a folded card sat waiting. John picked it up and opened it.
John and Sherlock,
We know things haven't been easy the past few weeks so we decided to do something to cheer you both up.
We hope you enjoy everything so far. More to come.
From
The Christmas Elves.
"Theres no such thing as elves" muttered Sherlock.
" Of course not Sherlock, its obvious they just don't want us finding out who they are"
"Obviously"
" More to come?...I wonder what that will mean"
Sherlock shrugged and grabbed his stomach as it painfully rumbled. John laughed. "I know you barely eat much as it is Sherlock, but I think we really should have something before we head to bed." Sherlock had to agree. He was absolutely starving.
Their dinner was small, mostly scrambled eggs and toast and then they started getting ready for bed. Which in Sherlock's case proved a little difficult. "You sure you don't need any help?" called John from the bathroom. "Im sure". And then there was a thump of a body hitting the floor.
John sighed and looked into his flatmates bedroom. The man in question was sitting on the floor. "Decide to sleep on the floor did we?" John helped him up and onto the bed. The whole flat was so warm that Sherlock had decided to sleep on top of the covers tonight.
"I fell"
"Being doing that a lot lately haven't you?"
"You're tired John, go to sleep"
John rolled his eyes but left for his room anyway, while Sherlock curled up on the bed and fell asleep.
( It was the same as his memory, except here he was able to make it down without falling himself. Sherlock lay there, his broken body bleeding across the white snow. His eyes were closed, his face beginning to frost over.
"SHERLOCK!"
He ran to his friend, pulling him up and cradling him, reaching a hand towards his neck, searching for a pulse. There wasn't one. "SHERLOCK!" He laid him down and tried to perform CPR, but he knew it was too late. "No..."
He was cradling him again, crying and shaking. This couldn't be happening, not to them, not to Sherlock. "Why Sherlock?" How long did you wait for me to come and save you? Did you die concious Sherlock? Afraid and alone? "Im sorry, Sherlock" He began to rock back and forth, his best friends dead body against his chest.
"Please come back Sherlock, please... please" I can't live without you. You brought me back to life, you brought colour back into my world, please just come back to me. "I can't do this without you mate, come on. You cant do this to me!"
"You aren't allowed to die Sherlock! What about Moriarty huh? We have to stop him, together. Please, just... just wake up"
But his pleas fell on deaf ears.
"Just come back to me...")
John bolted upright.
"Sher-!"