I'm not sure where I'm going with this as of yet, but I wanted to continue it, and so I am. This is just the product a little bunny that bounced around in my head until I shot it through the ear.
Disclaimer, because I don't think I put one in the first chapter: I don't own Sherlock.
Sherlock falls.
Falling, falling….
Down the rabbit hole you go, Alice~!
And through the looking glass… what do you see?
I see… I see… a body on the ground. A not-so-alive body, in fact. Poor body.
Look closer… What do you see?
I see… I see… a head of dark curls, and a blood-streaked face.
The face... it's turning towards me...? It looks familiar...
And it looks…
Like…
SHERLOCK
John wakes up.
It's 1.24 A.M.
John turns over and tries to sleep.
Then Sherlock leans forw-
John runs over to him, faster than he would ever imagine possible, and miraculously gets there seconds before Sherlock reaches the ground.
A hopeful smile lights up his face and he stretches out his arms, waiting to break Sherlock's fall.
But Sherlock just slips through his fingers as if he's not even there. And to John's horror, he finds that the crack when Sherlock's skull hits the pavement is even louder when he's nearer.
John looks up, and sees Moriarty's face smiling down at him from the roof. He smiles a gruesomely wide smile and blood drips out of his mouth, falling to the pavement. Opening his mouth (a stream of blood spatters down) Moriarty sings.
"Mummy always said~! Not to lean over the edge~!"
John wakes up.
It's 1.44 A.M.
John turns over and tries to sleep.
John finds his hand in front of him, fingers splayed. He hears harsh pants on the other end of the line, and just barely makes out a tiny arm also outstretched.
Amazingly, he can feel fingertips brushing against his own. John quickly twists his grip, and immediately feels the presence of a warm palm against his own.
He's caught Sherlock.
"What..." John hears Sherlock's incredulous mutter. John grins triumphantly and says, "I've got you Sherlock. I've got you."
"Don't let go John, please..." Sherlock pleads, to which John replies assuredly, "Of course Sherlock, I'd never-"
But then John sees as his fingers ever so slowly begin to straighten themselves without his volition.
He hears Sherlock's cries of "John, John! Why? I thought you said-" over the phone, but he can't really hear it over the blood pounding furiously in his head. He grits his teeth and will his fingers to obey, and a few tears of frustration are squeezed out when they don't.
Desperately, he tries flexing his hand, and realizes his mistake.
Sherlock falls.
Again.
John can't bear to look when Sherlock's body hits that godforsaken pavement for the millionth time. He closes his eyes, bites his lip and covers his ears, not bothering to prevent his phone from breaking into pieces on the ground.
Somebody gently removes his hands from their forceful press on his ears, and he flinches when that same person turns him around. He shakes his head back and forth when he hears the person whisper at him to open his eyes, but opens them anyway when he smells blood. He is still a doctor after all, and he feels concern for the mystery person quickly morph into panic.
Sherlock is standing in front of him.
Sherlock is standing in front of him. There is scarlet trickling down in rivulets from his temples, marring the flawless ivory skin.
Sherlock is standing in front of him, but Sherlock is behind him too, lying in a pool of his-
John feels his throat close up, and tears well in his eyes. This Sherlock looks down at him with contempt, and he opens his dry mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out.
"Turn around, John Watson, and look at what you have done." Sherlock says tonelessly.
John jerks his head back, and his heart stops when he can see the other Sherlock's head look up from the ground to stare at him.
"John..." The other Sherlock moans quietly. "John, how could you do this to me?"
"No, no, I-I didn't, Sherlock I'm sorry-"
John is forcefully, painfully spun back by his injured shoulder around and sees Sherlock rear back with a knife in his hand.
John wakes up.
It's 1.50 A.M.
John lays on his back, and stares at the ceiling until dawn.