Author's Notes: Hahaahaah… I have no idea where this is going… I think I may take it one way, but it will make the story a lot more supernatural with a lot of super powers and I'm not sure if you'll like it. Please message me or leave in a review where you would prefer this to go. Thanks!

The darkening sky was dyed gold as the sun slowly set in the distance, casting long shadows onto the desolate land below. John stared idly into the flickering orange flames of a small camp fire, nestling inside a tiny clump of burnt tree branches, he held out a saw-toothed twig with a miniscule shred of meat clinging to the end. Thank god for flying rocks squashing surviving rabbits! As per usual, Sherlock refused to eat any, choosing instead to pace and drag a thin stick around the dusty area, stomping and sighing at intervals.

Suddenly releasing a final overly exaggerated sigh, the consulting detective plopped down onto the floor opposite the now tentatively eating John, creating equations in the dirt with his pencil like twig. John looked up, watching the taller man's lithe figure slumped, clearly unappreciative of their current situation. Swallowing his meal, John attempted to kick start some form of conversation.

"So… Are you okay?" Sherlock scoffed, heaving himself up again and returning to his former pacing route.

"Of course! I'm fine. Just bored"

"Yes, only Sherlock Holmes would be bored after we've just been kidnapped by aliens who were threatening to kill us!" Sherlock halted and turned to John as he finished speaking, his intricate eyes turning to rock as he stared at him.

"Me"

"What?"

"They weren't going to kill us. After the test, they were going to kill me and take you!"

"Yeah…Um sorry…" John swallowed, looking back at the floor as guilt and worry bubbled yet again in the pit of his stomach. Sherlock remained still, but didn't fail to note his companion's distinct drop in mood. He quickly turned to look out at the darkening horizon as a tense silence settled in-between the two. Only the whisper of wind clawing through the trees sounded, making the fire's heating blaze suddenly seem inadequate.

"I wouldn't let them…" Sherlock's voice was deep as it ripped through the air, ringing around in John's ears as he turned around to look at the distant man with wide eyes like a puppy. "I… I was unprepared for both the sentiment and the attack so I panicked and couldn't figure anything out. I assure you that it will not happen again." John gently stood up, slowly drifting towards the shivering man as he continued. "I will not let them take you away. Not now. Not ever."

Sherlock swiveled on his heels, turning to face the twinkling man with his lips pressed into a thin line. John gaped at him adorably, grinning pleasantly as he became enticed by the fairy lights dancing in Sherlock's eyes. Sherlock maintained eye contact, even as an odd sense of joy flooded into his veins, pulsing through his body and setting his nerves on fire. The detective had never experienced it before, but it wasn't unpleasant, it was almost… nice. John chuckled slightly as a scarlet tinge rose onto the taller man's cheeks, practically illuminating his unusually high (but beautiful) cheekbones.

"And I wouldn't let them do anything to you either mate. After all, who would I blog about if you were gone?" John stated, leading the dumbfounded Sherlock back to the quivering flames. They positioned themselves gingerly on the rotting floor, John sliding slightly closer than necessary to feel Sherlock's body heat over the wintery gusts. Eventually Sherlock snapped out of it, looking down to the small man at his side, where he truly belonged.

"I don't think you'll be able to keep your blog anymore"

"Why not?" John mumbled as, for some reason, he seemed as if he was about to fall asleep.

"Well I doubt there's internet anymore…" John chuckled, gently letting his eyes flutter shut as sleep began to overtake his brain. "John! John we need to think of a plan, now!"

"In the morning…" And with that indistinguishable murmur, John finally allowed his senses to cut off, unconsciously leaning into his companion's side. Sherlock glanced over the shuddering figure fondly, silently wrapping one of his long, spindly arms around his companion's muscular body as he stared at over the horizon. Once again attempting to deduce the current state of the world.

"Come on Sherlock!" The former dragged his feet along the cracked ground, mumbling pathetically under his breath. John trekked up ahead, pushing on through the desert like terrain. He had woken that morning to find a distinct lack of consulting detective, as he had apparently gone out hunting and came back to find the doctor on the brink of having a panic attack back at their camp. Needless to say he had received a complete lecture on the subject of 'going out alone' which somehow ended with the eventual decision to move camp and continue on in the quest to find civilization.

John marched on up ahead, putting his military fitness to good use, as he scanned for any signs of living life forms. Sherlock eventually caught up, groaning next to his beaming companion who looked at him with one eye brow raised before continuing to walk over the barren area. Sherlock's hair bounced above his head as they continued to pass through broken twiglets, only a couple of clumps sticking to his head due to the unusually increased heat.

All of a sudden a bang echoed through the distant sky. Both John and Sherlock jumped simultaneously, clenching their eyes tightly closed and flying, instinctively, onto the ground below. The noise blasted through the sky, booming off the landscape before fading back into the abyss. John hastily opened his eyes, frantically turning around to check his companion's safety, and as thankfully met with the sight of a very much alive Sherlock. Whose attention was pinned directly on something obviously hovering above John's head.

John haltingly turned to face the object of Sherlock's attention. His eye's widening dramatically when he saw it. Directly above John's sandy head, was a large, jagged rock hovering completely still in midair! It just hung there without a care in the world. A rock! A couple of steps away was a visible patch of dirt that the block had been ripped from, raw crumbs of land spread around the crater.

The duo jumpily stumbled to their feet, glaring perplexed at the lingering stone. It remained completely still, even as Sherlock took a step closer, much to John's disgrace. But not passing up the chance, John promptly scrutinized the land, nothing had happened out of the ordinary due to whatever the bang had been but they could still be in danger. When he turned back to Sherlock, the inquisitive man already had his hand placed firmly on the cold stone.

"It's just like the ones which were damaging the ship…"

"What, really?" John took a couple of steps closer, but was halted when Sherlock shot out a hand, signaling for him to stop. The consulting detective glared at the rock, metallic cogs spinning in his head as the puzzle finally began piecing itself together. He gently took a long step backwards.

"John, focus on that rock…"

"What!"

"Just do it!" Rolling his eyes, John unwillingly did as he was told, piling his attention onto the hovering slab. Suddenly a weird roughness dripped into his body, seeming to roughen his skin as a strange pull seemed to pull him towards the rock. Ignoring the imminent panic, John slowly raised his hand. Then it moved, alongside John's hand. The rock moved, mirroring his flexes! A wicked grin cracked onto Sherlock's features as he watched the rock dance about before turning his head to the panting man behind him. John's eyes had gone a light shade of orange, seeming to glisten in the light. Whizzing his head back around, Sherlock just caught the sight of the slab dropping to the floor.

The doctor bent double, panting heavy and ragged breaths, as his aching brain went into over load. Sherlock dashed over to his exhausted counterpart, beam still plastered on his features, straining to stop himself from clapping in excitement. John finally lifted his head, looking Sherlock in the eyes as his chest thumped up and down.

"What the hell was that Sherlock?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but that (whatever it was) is definitely why those creatures picked you up on their machine" Sherlock practically jumped about in glee, even as John's own head continued to transform into a merry go round, his weakened body feeling as if it could collapse at any moment from sheer exhaustion. "So you can what… Manipulate the earth? This isn't natural, but this is a lead in the case and could supply extremely valuable information. This is good, very good. You never cease to amaze John! I-"

"Sherlock" John interrupted; causing the detective to suddenly stopped in his procession and acknowledged his companion, just as the drained man collapsed. But Sherlock was there in an instant, supporting John's weary frame to stop it from crashing onto the floor. "Please Sherlock, slow down a bit. Everything feels heavy…"

"Hmmm… So it's exhausted your systems, interesting. Come on John, we need to keep going" Sherlock gently lifted the groaning man to his wobbly feet. Keeping an arm slung around his shoulder for support as he helped him stumble forwards.

"Why can't we just stop for a couple of minutes?" John murmured through his hazy vision.

"Because, we're almost there!" And true enough directly in front of them, where the dust had been cleared by the blast, were the clear remains of what was once the London eye.