Cold parted lips. A light sheen of sweat gracing an all-too-pale face. Vacant eyes staring up at the ornate ceiling, dim and unseeing.
He ran to her, no, raced to her side as if in a futile race against time, screaming her name and hoping she could still be saved. But every step that should have lead him closer only pushed her farther away from his sight. He reached out in desperation, crying out...
"Sherlock!"
He awoke with a jolt, sitting up on his bed and scanning his surrondings, wild-eyed and gasping.
"Shh... it's all right, darling," the woman at his side cooed and began to massage his shoulders. "I'm right here."