I woke in darkness. It wasn't the smothering darkness like being under a blanket or walking through fog at night, it was the kind of darkness that settles when there is no light. My knowledge of gravity told me I was lying on the ground, although this may not have been the case. I assumed the direction I was looking in was up, and I touched around my eyes to be sure they were open. I couldn't find a reason to get up, so I decided the ground was nice. I assumed it was comfortable, even though it didn't really feel like anything. It was just there. I felt a tug on my chest, like a tiny invisible thread pulled on me. I rolled with the tug onto my stomach. The ground fell away from my torso and I found myself suddenly standing. The tug enticed me forwards as I walked through the darkness. Time passed, I guessed. I had no way of telling how much, but after that time a noise echoed through the darkness. It was so faint that it was indescribable, but it was a noise nonetheless. I walked onwards at the provocation of the tug, and as I did the noise grew. The music that came from within the darkness was soothing and yet… melancholy. By the sound of it, it was a string instrument… a violin. As I moved forward, the sound grew until I assumed I was nearly on top of it. It suddenly stopped and the tug disappeared. I felt alone in the darkness for a time until something poked into my stomach.

*~*
I touched the foreign object and deduced that it was the bow of the violin. I breathed out, surprised that I was holding my breath in the first place. A husked whisper growled from the source of the bow.
"Who's there?"
"Sherlock?" I asked. The familiar voice had filled me with a warm sense of hope.
"No, I'm Sherlock. I asked who you are."
"Sherlock!" I leapt into the darkness without thought, tackling the detective to the ground. He landed with an 'oof'.
"For the last time, you aggressive stranger, I'm Sherlock, you are not," he enforced. I lay awkwardly on top of him for a while, not wanting to lose the connection with another person (especially Sherlock) who was lost in the darkness, "John?" Sherlock inquired hesitantly.
"Yes?"
"Ah. So it is you. Could you please get off me?"
"Oh, yes, of course…" I got up and grabbed his hand to help him up. I blushed in the darkness as we continued to hold them.
"You're holding my hand."
"Brilliant deduction, Sherlock."
"Why?"
"I don't want to be lost again. It's not like anyone will see us anyway."
"Except the readers."
"The what?"
"Never mind, let's go," he tugged at my hand like the string had tugged on my chest. Even if I lose you, I thought, I'll always find you. We're always connected.
*~*
There was the passing of time again, I imagined it was slightly longer than the time that had passed before. We wandered in the shadows, Sherlock leading me in an unknown direction until suddenly he stopped. I didn't see him stop of course, so I walked straight into the wall.
"There's a wall here," I whispered.
"Your observational skills are absolutely astounding," Sherlock replied sarcastically. I felt the wall with my free hand, trying to find some sort of opening or foothold so we could proceed. I didn't want to turn back, there was no telling how long we'd been here, and I didn't want that time to double or even triple if we turned. I spent so much time worrying that I didn't feel my arm being pulled up. Sherlock was walking on the wall.
"Sherlock! How are you-?"
"Just step on the wall and temporarily stop thinking about gravity," I placed a foot on the wall, trying to imagine it being the floor. Instead of weaning my brain into the idea like I imagine Sherlock had, it accepted it as the floor right away and my face slammed into it. Sherlock's hand pulled me up and I felt my face for signs of bleeding. I wasn't, thankfully, so we moved on through the darkness. More time passed before we stopped again. This time, Sherlock actually said he stopped to avoid me from moving ahead.
"I want you to let go of my hand," Sherlock stated, his voice distant in thought.
"Why? I mean… as long as you don't move…"
"Don't worry, I just need to play my violin."
"Wait," my mind suddenly realised an important fact, "Where did you get that? In fact, how did you get here?"
"I was playing it, don't you remember? I was playing it in the morning, then you came into the room and you…you…I… can't remember…"
"You weren't playing it… you came into the room after I woke up and…"
"Why can't we remember?"
"I don't know, Sherlock. Go on, play it," after some time the melancholy melody flowed from the violin again. I felt the connection I had felt before, I felt it tugging out of my chest and leaving me. More time came and went, and there was suddenly a pin prick of light. I reached for it before the music ceased.
"You won't be able to touch it, it's a long way away."
"Oh. Should we go then?"
"No, I think we should stay here and just look at it."
"You don't have to say it like that…"
"Come on, John," his hand brushed mine as he searched for it and I reached out and grabbed his shirt. He directed my hand to his and we moved off towards the light.

Wow… haven't written in a while. Sorry about the late updates but I've been really busy and have access to the internet less and less. The last time I had the internet I lost my thumbdrive which has all of my stories (among other things) in it. Luckily I found it again, but since then have had no internet.

I just finished reading The Hitchhiker's Guide to The Galaxy- The Trilogy of Four (which I found really hard to read without making Arthur have the voice of Martin Freeman in my head) and I drew inspiration for this chapter from that. I think I've made some nice, subtle humour with an intriguing setting, not to sound like I've made the best chapter ever. Because obviously it is not.

Thanks to all my lovely reviewers who make me keep writing. There is yet another story coming soon, and still a lot of chapters for this so
See you next chapter!
SH