John
I had manage to pick lock the door open.
Hey, Living with Sherlock taught me some useful stuff
The door creaked open, I found myself looking into a long, dark hallway. Pictures and portraits masked the wall, eyes watching m as I creeped deeper into the silent house. As soon as the door behind me closed I no longer had the light from the moon to light my way, digging into my pocket my hands curled around my phone, I took it out and used the light to lead me down the dark hallway.
It was dark, and scary, chills ran down my spine as I creeped further into the hallway.
Bang, bang, BANG!
Someone was shooting into the wallSherlock I thought and my steps quickened, echoing through the hall"SHUT THE HELL UP SALLY"
Faster, faster…
The hallway came to an end, left or right, left or right?
Left
Crashing into the wall and shoving off of it, my mind raced with my legs
Sally? Why is sally there? She's not… she can't be… she's not, just Sherlock so- oh god no…
My strides got bigger, I wasn't using the light from my phone anymore, blind panic and worry was showing me the way.
There was laughter, hysterical laughter; he was drugged, completely and utterly off his face.
I ran faster, slamming on the breaks and taking a sharp left again, finding myself in a room with a huge staircase, the front door was on my right, but I ran up the stairs, two at a time.
"Where are you?"
I could hear him, hear him talking…"DON'T SAY IT!"
I turned right, thundering across another hallway…There was a loud thump; I knew it was the sound of his body, crashing into the floor,
"SHERLOCK?" I shouted I was lost; I needed to know where he was…
"JOHN!" he shouted back I carried on running down the hall, I could see a door that was partly open
"JOH-"
Another thump, faster, faster…I fell through the door, Sherlock was lying on his back, body shaking and heaving.
I felt the blood drain from my face"What have you done?" my voice shook, he was lying in an ever-growing pool of blood, face pale eyes rolling.
His wrist, half a needle was sticking out of the skin, blood draining out from underneath it.
"Okay, Sherlock? Sherlock? Can you hear me?" I asked, the doctor kicking into my system with a wave of adrenaline. And something else… fear.
He let out a groan, I took that as a yes.
"I need you to talk to me. Can you do that?"
"Yes" his voice was weak, slurred.
I moved his head onto the side, my hands were shaking and I could feel shivers of dread dancing down my back.
"Why did you run Sherlock?"
"John…"
"Sherlock you need to talk to me"
"My hand hurts"
"Of course it would, you have half a needle and a massive slice in your wrist, now, no! Sherlock, stay. Awake"
"It hurts"
His eyes had rolled back, eyelids fluttering shut. I hadn't passed up the opportunity to slap him in the face.
"I know it hurts, but you need to keep speaking"
I needed to find something to cut off the blood flow from the wrist, I hadn't picked up any bandages, I'd left in a hurry, I needed to stop it or he'd die from blood loss.
"Sorry Sherlock you're not going to like this"
In one swift movement I slid the needle neatly out of his wrist, he let out a cry and heaved again but that was it.
I reached over his limp body, hand grasping his blue scarf that was slung over the bed post.
With expert and experienced hands I wrapped the scarf tightly around his wrist. He had grimaced when he saw the scarf, but had allowed me to use it anyway.
Picking the phone out of my pocket I dialled Lestrade.
"Lestrade, I need you to send an ambulance NOW!"
"Wh- john? Why? Is everyone okay? Is it Sherlock?"
"Yes, look, get them here as quickly as possible, I'm not sure how long he can stay awake"
"Why? What has he done? Its baker street right? 221b?"
"NO! No, we're at his old house, childhood home, 'Holmes house'? In Walkern? Get them here now, Lestrade, please!"
"Okay, we're on our way now"
The line goes dead.
Sherlock isn't breathing.
My heart is caught in my throat.