John was worried. Few things had ever troubled Sherlock as much as the program sharing his name. It had, obviously, come as a shock to John as well, that he and his flatmate were fictional characters portrayed by famous actors on a television show, but there were some things you just had to accept. He reasoned that soon, Sherlock would get over it, and decided to act normal for the time being. He just hoped that his decision was the right one.
John walked into the kitchen, the morning after Sherlock's meltdown, wearing his dressing gown and a pair of fuzzy grey slippers. He heated some water on the stove and began to make tea. Suddenly, he heard a loud thump that reverberated throughout the flat. John put down his cup now emanating the calming aroma of herbal tea.
"Sherlock?" he called, walking into the hall. "Was that you?" There was no answer. His pace quickened as he raced towards Sherlock's bedroom door, knocking twice.
"Sherlock?!" he repeated. When there was no response, he flung the door open.
John gasped and stifled a high-pitched scream. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, doubting his senses. But he saw the same thing: Sherlock was an otter. A handsome otter, but an otter nonetheless. John looked down at his hands, and noticed they were shaking. At first he was reassured, thinking back to the day he had met Mycroft Holmes. Then he recalled that he had begun to notice tremors in times of stress, and his therapist's suspicion that his previous love of danger had been somehow replaced with "good old PTSD," and frowned. He turned his attention back to his best friend's startling transformation.
"John?" asked the otter in Sherlock's voice. "What happened?"
"What happened?!" John laughed. "What happened?!" He suddenly dissolved into laughter, chortling with the ridiculousness of the situation. Sherlock the Otter stared, puzzled, at the sight of John slapping his knee and laughing so hard tears came to his eyes. Then Sherlock shrugged (or tried to, but otters aren't meant to shrug) and started to walk out of the room to begin an experiment, but fell on his face. He got up, scratching his head, and promptly fell over again.
"What is going on?" Sherlock said, annoyed. He put one paw to his face and jumped. It was furry. He looked down at his body for the first time and screamed. He was an otter! But why? He hadn't tried to make himself an otter!... Sherlock sighed. This was going to be a problem.