Doctor Holmes heard the sound of gunfire nearing, the lights flickered and dimmed, there was yelling into radios but Doctor Holmes ignored it all. He knew how this scene would play out, somewhere out there John had been shot, he would tell Harry to go forward and she would burst through those doors, take out the three thugs easily.

Perfect marksmanship ran strong in the Watson family; John's father had been in the army also known as a crack shot.

Somewhere out there John was bleeding and the fool wouldn't have said a word or betrayed the pain to his sister. He would simply clear the corridor so Harry and Sherlock would have a better chance at escape.

Stupid and loyal John Watson. Brave, always so brave and today he'd make the ultimate sacrifice, proving once more he was a better friend than Sherlock.

Sherlock closed his eyes when the man holding him pulled him from the chair roughly binding his hands. The door burst open, and Sherlock waited, three shots no return fire. No, Harry wouldn't' have given them the chance, and now the scientist was falling, falling and hitting the ground landing on a dead body.

"Sherlock!" An urgent male voice.

"Get him up, we may have taken them by surprise but they're catching on." Another similar voice but from the doorway.

"Sherlock. Those bastards! I'll hunt them down I swear if-"

Gray eyes opened blinking not understanding this dream completely, the anxious face of his dearest friend came into view slowly.

"John?" Sherlock wanted to curse this dream, it must be the dehydration, perhaps the whole idea of travel was a dream. Then the other man in the door way stepped in.

Sherlock flinched, he was seeing double, the other man grinned down at him.

"He looks a bit dehydrated, let me look him over." Sherlock looked to his John, the eyes were cold and he'd moved protectively over Doctor Holmes.

"I'm fine." Sherlock swallowed, and tried to sit up, his abdomen ached and he hissed.

"Stubborn the both of you." The other John growled, crouching down he ran a quick hand over Sherlock's ribs.

"Broken. Nothing else, a bit of a bump on the head. Like I said dehydrated and malnourished."

"Come on then." His John helped him stand, waving off the other man's offer of help. "Just get to point Watson and we'll be right behind you."

"John!" Sherlock finally managed the words. "John are you hurt? How are you here? Where's Harry?"

"No worries Sherlock. I'm fine. Harry's waiting for us, she's bringing the Helicopter, had a bit of a run in with a traitor nothing we couldn't handle. Would have been here sooner but Mycroft for all his cameras and intelligence had a bloody hell of a time finding you. I'm sorry mate. Sorry. It should have never-"

"No, no. I'm fine." Sherlock winced as walking caused him pain in his side, and his legs felt weak. "Am I dreaming?"

"You won't believe the story I have for you. I thought I was dreaming, but apparently we aren't."

Sherlock held to his friend's words, he allowed them to wrap around him, the sound of John's voice over the sound of gunfire and explosions was a concerto to his ears. He'd almost forgotten what it sounded like to hear John's laughter, forgotten how the lines around John's eyes crinkled when he smiled and just how much he missed the man. This man, no others could substitute it was a stupid notion to try.

All those others would have been haunted in their own ways, John this John wasn't anything but himself.

"John, I was looking for you. I had to tell you-" Now it was John's turn to look confused as he covered his friends body with his own, ducking down, the military man easily dispatch the two men who had appeared from nowhere.

"Come on!" the other John motioned from a few feet ahead, Sherlock could hear a helicopter somewhere just outside.

"Sherlock you aren't well. I'll get you home. You'll be alright. You can tell me whatever you want once we're back at the base. Yeah."

"No, no I have to tell you now. Tell you-" The two had made it out into the light of day, Sherlock squinted against the true light, having been subjected to the dim lights of his cell for weeks. It was then John half drug half carried Sherlock to the helicopter, Harry was smiling from the pilot's seat, the other John was engaged in trading fire with a few assailants across the open courtyard hiding behind a stone pillar.

John got Sherlock into the back, and went to pull himself in, yelling for the other man to hurry. When his eyes went wide and he nearly fell back, except Sherlock had grabbed his friend by the front of his vest pulling him forward the heavier man landed with a thud on top of his already weak friend.

"Go!" The other John was jumping in firing his heavy AK, when they were safety in the air he turned around to see Sherlock pushing his friend onto his back.

"He's shot!" The scientist was frantic. "John! Not again. No."

"What's going on?" Harriet yelled from over her shoulder.

"Just fly this damn thing!" The other John ordered tossing his gun aside, he pulled open Sherlock's friend's jacket, then removed the vest. Blood was pooling out from the shoulder wound. John hissed and groaned.

"He'll be alright. We are going to the base they have the medical facilities-" The other John's expression was pinched and he placed Sherlock's hand over the wound. "Pressure! Just keep pressure on it! We aren't far! We'll get him help, do you understand me? No one will die here." Sherlock nodded despite his fear, and with the strength he could muster the man pushed down on the wound.

"John!" The other John growled leaning in, he whispered something into John's ear causing the ex army Captain and Agent to open his eyes wide.

Sherlock wondered what the man said, but the other John was busy hunting for the first aid kit.

"Keep him awake as long as possible!" The other John ordered and Sherlock nodded stiffly, willing the tears to stop pooling in his eyes, willing himself to be strong.

"John. I wanted to tell you-tell you I'm sorry for being such a selfish friend." The other John started to patch the wound the best he could, and at the same time keeping pressure on the shoulder.

"Not-not self-" John grunted trying to breath in.

"Yes I am. The demands I've always made on your time, those experiments that went horribly wrong in UNI."

This caused the injured man to laugh. "Fun-all fun." He managed through clenched teeth.

"Then you met Mary and I thought I'd lost you. Remember I refused to talk to you for months after you moved in with her, until she showed up at my laboratory and refused to leave. She was nine months along and I realized I was missing out on your life. Remember when she had Hamish? That day was one I'll never forget the woman almost gave Mycroft's people a heart attack. We nearly lost her and Hamish-"

"Good Doct-ors. Mycroft-"

"Yes. Mycroft my ever so pushy brother had the best man flown in from Sweden, I don't know what threat he gave that pompous Doctor but he looked absolutely terrified. That was one time I was very glad to have such an overbearing older brother, because eight hours later Mary and Hamish were just fine."

"Yes-beautiful Mary." John's hand was holding Sherlock's wrist. "Don't let them be alone. Take, take care of my family Sherlock." John's voice sounded weaker, and more forced.

"No, I'm shit at that. They will fall apart without you. I'll fall apart without you." The scientist half sobbed. "I had to find you, John and there is no one to replace you. I've been running in circles John looking for you."

"That's my line." John managed through labored breaths. "This is hard-"

"John? John are you alright?"

"Yes." The other man smiled and his eyes fluttered closed and his body went limp.

"No!" Sherlock growled angrily still keeping his hand on his friends shoulder. "NO!" it was the nightmare all over again.

The other John ordered the shocked younger man to keep pressure on the wound as he started CPR.

The helicopter finally landed and a medical team rushed in, pulling Sherlock away. This was the beginning and the end, and the scientist knew he wouldn't be building that machine again.

He could hear Harriett yelling at someone, turning his head the other John was holding her back, she'd tried to follow her John into surgery, Sherlock was on a stretcher he couldn't remember how he got on one, they were moving him away from John's body. The best friend and agent disappeared behind metal doors as would Sherlock very soon but not the same ones different, and he didn't try to hold back the darkness inching up to take him.

~0~

"Now that's been resolved John and I would like a word with Moran." The ex consulting criminal turned to the alternate version of his brother. The room had been watching the cctv as the scene unfolded.

"Interesting. Just how cold you are Sherlock." Mycroft gave a curt smile.

"Yes, well sentiment isn't one of my flaws. Now if you'll excuse me." The man took his leave he wanted nothing more than to retrieve his own John Watson, to get the information he wanted and to clear out before John wished to stay. Or worse was asked to stay.

He found his friend speaking to a distraught Harriett Watson, and it was startling to see the family resemblance. This woman, obviously an Agent had her head between her legs trying to take deep breaths, and Watson was rubbing her back crouching down whispering something to her. This caused her to calm visibly but she didn't speak.

Then Watson looked up seeing Holmes, he said one more thing to her and she glared across at Sherlock, and nodded. Watson left her in front of the base's infirmary doors.

"Holmes-" Watson started to speak but the ex criminal was taking his arm.

"You're hurt?"

"It was a graze."

"Has anyone seen to it?" mass amounts of information pertaining to infection and resulting in death flashed through his mind palace.

"I did, I'm the one that bandaged it. It's fine. I assume we have the ok to speak to our prisoner?" Holmes nodded. "We'll lead the way, I need to resolve some tension."