Originally I imagined this story to be a one-shot, but encouraged by your lovely reviews I decided to pop the kettle on and write a bit more….

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It appeared that luck was on his side. Fate. Luck. Did it really matter? All that mattered was it directed his fall clear of the rocks flanking that fearful chasm and towards the angry waters at its core.

Curled into a ball he hit them like a stone.

Agonising pain tore through him. White light exploded behind his eyes as his shoulder screamed, before the icy waters kindly numbed all physical sensation.

Downwards he was drawn into the dark abyss, further from the real world and further from his friend. His heart began to race. His body thrown over and over by the swirling currents. Within seconds he could not tell up from down, or indeed where the fearsome waters ended and his fragile form began.

Keep calm Sherlock.

They thundered down relentlessly, an endless torrent swollen by the melting glacier. It pushed heavily upon him, freezing his bones and squeezing all air from his lungs. Cold hard water invaded his ears and nose and ripped at his clothing like a demonic thief.

Keep calm.

To protect himself and the device he kept his arms tucked tightly to his chest. If he moved too soon it would be snatched by the storm that raged about him, or his limbs smashed to pieces by the rocks.

He could not risk it. He must be patient. He must wait it out. So ignoring the increasing tightness in his chest he held his breath and he waited.

Calm.

He stole his mind to blank out the hell about him. It pounded in his head like a mighty drum, threatening to banish every logical thought. Seconds ran to minutes. Then, just as his lungs demanded he could wait no longer, he was granted a reprieve. The waters about him calmed, the world finally stopped spinning and everything began to slow down. He moved to bring the device to his lips.

It was only then that his numbed brain realised. His limbs were no longer his own. His body was frozen. Unresponsive. He simply did not have the strength.

And strangely enough, it no longer seemed to matter.

Bubbles tumbled gently from his lips as he was taken to where the waters were still and dark, full of slick weeds and black silt. It was silent there. It was peaceful. It was somewhere he could rest.

His tired mind relaxed. Limp arms slowly uncurled themselves and floated at his sides.

Holmes?

Watson had always looked handsome in a dinner suit.

He stood in the doorway. He did not speak. He simply stood there watching, framed by a glowing light. His mouth was open just a fraction, cheeks slightly flushed, blue eyes reflecting the lamplight, the snow and the scene before him.

Holmes felt a warm glow inside his chest. It was good to see his friend. It was truly good to see him.

But something was wrong. Watson's noble face was damaged, his skin too pale, and there was a look in his eyes.

Why did he look so….

Don't you dare

For God sake Holmes don't you dare

His body jerked.

His eyes opened.

In a split second, together with the cold and the pain, everything came flooding back.

He remembered where he was, he remembered why and he remembered the small device still captured loosely by his fingertips. Summoning every ounce of energy he possessed, he pulled it to his lips and drew a breath.

It worked. Despite the fall, the cold and the pressure that crushed in on them from all sides. It actually worked. Oxygen swelled his starved lungs and travelled through his veins like a drug, waking every muscle and every nerve. Hungrily he filled his lungs again. Then, wasting no time and taking Watson with him, he struck out for the surface.

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Reviews welcomed. More on the way…...