An: Hi! So yesterday I got an unconditional offer for a college and I am very pleased! So you guys get this.

This chapter was prompted aaaaages ago by the lovely Trakrat cos she is amazing and stuff, isn't it? Random. This chapter is kinda vaguely based on THUD! By Terry Pratchett which is a really amazing book and you should all go read it.

Review and prompt because you are all cool and awesome peoples.

Lily

It was weirdly dark in this place. I had quite literally never been anywhere so dark.

Unfortunately it wasn't that surprising as this place had been turned into a mine.

The owners, Christina and Wilhelm Haagar had apparently been digging out of here for quite some time, since the tunnel we were currently standing in was complete with prop supports and eight foot high walls. As we walk down the tunnel, it occurred to me, just how sad this circumstance was.

Wilhelm and Christina had been prisoners in a concentration camp throughout the Second World War. During their time in the camp, Wilhelm had apparently fallen seriously foul of one of the guards who'd sworn that he'd kill him, who had later escaped prison. The couple had spent their lives in fear that he would find and kill them like he'd promised he would.

Somehow they'd gotten wind that the guard, Joseph Walzberg, had come to England from Germany. They'd spent the subsequent three years digging the tunnel and trying to escape from their house without Joseph Walzberg knowing. And they had nearly succeeded. Wilhelm's body had been found next to the opening of the tunnel, with his throat cut. Christina had been found next to her husband's body screaming in German.

It had taken less than three days for Sherlock to find this all out and act upon it, making sure that Joseph was arrested and charged shortly before he left Prague.

I shivered as we walked under their street. It was cold and damp like any tunnel will be, but there was something else. Something dark almost. Beside me Sherlock was looking around and, by the light of my small torch, I could almost say I saw fear in his eyes.

'Bastard!' I had been about to ask Sherlock what was up, when a sharp pain tore into my arm.

'Alright?' came Sherlock's voice. I didn't reply. I couldn't. When I had gashed my arm, something else had happened. It was like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over my head, but instead of the feeling passing over my skin, it was like it fell through me. My throat had closed up and I found that I was unbelievably scared.

I had still been walking while all this was happening, but now I stumbled and fell to my knees as something began to take over my vision. All I could see at first was grey. I heard Sherlock shouting a long way off but I could barely hear him, and anyway I couldn't drag my thoughts away from what was in front of my eyes.

It was a parade of faces. All grey and gaunt, some of them crying. Some of them with wounds or scratches across them, sometimes screaming, but even worse were the faces that were simply blank with despair. All the time the faces were moving relentlessly across my vision, I had weird mixed images. Of yellow stars, purple triangles, barbed wire and nails. And I had absolutely no idea what was happening, but it was horrible.

I can tell you now that some of those images will haunt me until my dying day. They appear in my nightmares on a regular basis.

I don't know how long it was all going on, but as the vision faded, I found myself lying flat out on the floor, with tears running thick and fast down my face and Sherlock kneeling above me, shining a torch in my face and looking just about at the end of his wits.

'God John are you...?'

I didn't give him chance to finish as I launched myself off the floor and flung my arms tight around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder sobbing damply.

'Never ever ever make me do that again.' I wailed desperately.

Sherlock had frozen awkwardly in place when I flung myself at him but now he patted my back awkwardly and said 'Can you walk alright?'

I shook my head and sobbed a little bit more before saying 'I don't know, I haven't tried.' And hiccupping loudly into his shoulder. I heard the staticky buzz of a radio and Sherlock murmuring a few words, before swinging one arm under my knees and lifting me up. I honestly barely noticed, as my head was still buried in his shoulder.

I seem to have blacked out a bit at that point because the next thing I remember is waking up in bed. I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds before I heard the door crack open and saw Sherlock's figure silhouetted in the doorway.

'Come in Sherlock.' I sighed. He came in cautiously and sat on the end of my bed.

He sighed and cracked his fingers before saying 'What happened back there John?'

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, but I honestly didn't know what to say. I still don't. I haven't got a real explanation for what happened in that tunnel. But I do have an idea. Christina and Wilhelm poured all their hopes into their escape tunnel, not just hopes, memories and old fears. When an outsider came into contact with it, their fears and desperate hopes were transferred into me.

I had no appreciation for what these two people had been through in Germany, but after seeing what amounted to what they saw every day in the concentration camp I thought about what everyone who'd come under the regimes in the camps had had to suffer and slave through.

But what I said was 'I don't know Sherlock. Maybe it triggered my PTSD. You know, the dark and everything.' He nodded and gave a twisted smile, before turning and leaving.

'Oh and Sherlock?' I said. He turned.

'Thank you. Very much. For saving me.' I blushed.

He grinned wolfishly, as he does so often. 'Piece of cake.' He said.

AN: OH MY GOD I have no idea if that's what you had in mind for that chapter or anything, so yeah I really hoped you enjoyed it and it wasn't too bad. Anyways, I will love you forever and Mycroft sends you cake if you review. I have spoken.