Is that my blood? Oh God! Jesus...

No, it's not mine it's...

Sherlock coughed guiltily, " sorry about the cardigan John." Blood splurged from his mouth and began to congeal on his bottom lip. A great spasm ricocheted through his body. John quickly released his grip on Sherlock's limbs and tore off his cardigan.

John gently lifted Sherlock closer and cradled his head in his lap. He delicately rubbed Sherlock's face with the soft, fleecy material and soon retracted it to find it saturated with scarlet.

Sherlock dipped his forefinger into the centre of it. He regarded the blood as it trailed down over his knuckle, glancing up into John's fear striken face. Unshed tears shook in both their eyes. A glistening sheen of emotions on the verge of overflowing.

With great effort, Sherlock hovered his bloodied finger over John's left cheek. With slow but consice motions he traced something onto his skin. Sherlock gritted his teeth- fighting to withstand the pain if only for a few more minutes. Time ticked away. All the while Death circled, waiting to pounce and claim Sherlock as his own.

Not yet. Sherlock said to himself firmly. Not yet...

"W-w-what is..." John struggled to choke out his question. Clearing his throat he tried again, " what is t-t-that?"

Sherlock tilted his head upwards, a small smile dancing on his lips. He tried to crane his neck towards John, his voice was too weak to carry over even that short a distance. Seeing the distress this was causing him, John leant down to him. Sherlock's head twisted so his thin lips hovered above just above John's ear. He whispered,

" It's a love heart John."

The effect was instantaneous. The suppressed emotions held captive between John's rib cage now surged free. John wept bitterly, burying his face into Sherlock's chest. Not all his sobs were unhappy but most were. Sherlock's large spidery hands caressed John's head in long, tender strokes. There was so much to say and so many different words and ways to say it. Convulsing with sorrow and violent hiccups John forced himself to withdraw and breathe deeply. They gazed deeply into one another's eyes, saying nothing.

Sherlock felt a chill press onto his shoulder. Inhaling sharply, he lowered his gaze. It was no chill but mutilated hand of Death. The frost bitten fingers drove deep into his flesh and grabbed at the bone. A guttural cry escaped him. Sherlock watched helplessly as John slipped in and out of focus, his eyes wild with fright.

" Oh no, not now! Not now! Mycroft's on his way w-w-with help! Sherlock! Stay with me! Don't you dare leave me now. Not now..." John's voice wobbled and his Adam's apple quivered as he gulped down his hysteria.

With undeniable inner strength Sherlock kept his eyes locked onto John's even as Death ripped him away. Further and further down the tunnel of light he was dragged, never losing sight of his best friend. Not for one precious moment.

Sherlock's hand fell from John's locks onto his chest.

" No. No, no... Sher-" John grasped at Sherlock's wrist, it hung limply. A rising heat began in the pit of John's stomach, it flurried through his blood and scalded his throat as vomit projected from between his lips. He screamed,

" SHERLOCK!"

Hiya guys, it's me again. And this time I'd like to thank my five (new), faithful, fantastic followers; GobletCharm64, Space Invading Body Snatcher, mari12345, Imica85 and tigersoul101. Plus, just to let you know this is the highest number (6) of followers I've ever had! Yay!