One week.

It had been one week since Sherlock told me about his plans for killing Moriarty, and Sherlock hadn't mentioned him since. I'm not sure if he was just hiding it from me because he knows I would disagree, or if he finally realised his plan was hopeless. But either way, I'm glad he hadn't made any kind of inexorable move on Moriarty. I knew that wouldn't end good.

I've been trying to keep him busy, in fact. I've been shoving case files in his face, recent murders and such, but London as been way to boring recently, and nothing interesting in Sherlock's eyes have popped up just yet. I've phoned Greg, asking him if anything interesting came up then to give me a call straight away. I've also suggested to Sherlock that we go out somewhere, maybe take Chester for a walk together, which he objected to but I forced him to come nonetheless. Heck, I even tried walking around in just a large shirt and my underwear, but he didn't even seem to notice! Taking his mind off things was difficult, but I managed just by putting crime programs on TV or Jeremy Kyle for him to just yell at. He didn't seem as moody anymore.

Mary and John even came over with Amelia, and Mary and John- knowing that I was trying to keep his mind off things, practically forced Sherlock to hold Amelia for a good while.

The mission was going great so far, everything seemed fine. We were just waiting for Moriarty to make his next move.

I woke up one dull Friday morning, getting out of bed sluggishly and walking into the kitchen for a cup of tea. I heard hushed voices, and when Sherlock and Billy heard me turn the kettle on, they noticed my presence and immediately shut their mouths, not wanting me to hear whatever they were saying. I furrow my eyes at them, but shook my head, too tired to argue with them. You never know, Sherlock could be planning something nice and romantic with me, but I doubt that was the case.

A knock at the door brought my attention away from Sherlock and Billy. John walks in, nonchalantly closing the door behind him. Billy raises his hand and gives John a small wave.

"Alright?"

John nods his head slightly, walking into our apartment, "Just wondering how you all are doing."

"Fine." Sherlock says casually, as if he never planned to kill Moriarty, "Yourself?"

"Yes, yes. I'm fine. Any cases?"

I opened the fridge, observing inside for any sign of milk. I sigh when I don't see any. It was normally in this apartment for the milk to just disappear. Billy was probably drinking it all again. John hears me sigh and looks over at me.

"What's up?"

"Nothing, just out of milk." I close the fridge, not knowing what else to do.

"Want me to get some?"

"No no! It's fine, honestly!"

"No, I'll get it." He smiles, re-opening the door. I step out of the kitchen.

"Seriously John, you don't need to. I'll get it after if you like."

"Oh for gods sake, can someone just get the milk." Sherlock groans. Me and John glance at each other, shrugging slightly.

"I'll come with you." I say.

"Good idea." John nods, probably noticing how bored I was becoming, being stuck in here anyway. I wish Sherlock would just pick a case, it would be so much more interesting.

I hurriedly get changed, dressing into black, skinny jeans and a plain white top. It takes me less then five minutes to get dressed. I was only going out to get some milk, so I didn't really need to do my hair or make up, but for the sake of looking presentable in public I brushed through my hair and tied it up in a bobble.

I walk out of my room and grab Chester's lead, deciding that I might as well take him on a small walk. He jumps off the couch straight away when he see's his lead, and I clip it onto his collar, making sure he was secure.

"Ready then?" I asked John as he was engaged in a conversation with Sherlock and Billy, something about Jeremy Kyle, I think, as Sherlock was whining about the girl on there being pregnant. I think Sherlock and Billy made a bet on it.

"Yeah." John answered me, chuckling slightly from his previous conversation with Sherlock. He started to walk towards the door, me following after him with Chester. We made it out into the cool, November air, and I smiled, remembering that Christmas was soon. I couldn't wait for the roast dinner and the cinnamon candles. I also looked forward to seeing a red, paper crown hat placed on Sherlock's curls. And maybe we could see his parents again? Who knows!

"I can't believe he let you keep Chester." John spoke, smiling at Chester as he trotted along with us. I smiled too.

"Yeah, well, he sometimes does experiments on him. Like a massive guinea pig. I keep yelling at him not to."

John lets out a laugh, "That's Sherlock for you."

"I know."

"That man is rediculous." John shakes his head, chuckling.

I let out a chuckle too, and it was silent for about four or five seconds until a loud bang erupted, echoing and howling through the frosty air. I'm shocked for a moment, because I didn't know what the noise was. I glanced around rapidly, seeing where the horrifically loud noise came from, but I saw nothing.

Suddenly Chester started barking and tugging the lead. I looked down at him, unsure on what caused his behavior, but then he lets out a cry and looks at John with sad eyes. I furrow my eyebrows, and turn my head towards John. He looking right at me, his eyes wide and his mouth ajar.

"What is it?" I ask nervously, knowing something wasn't right, "John?"

John leaves my eyes and slowly looks down at his stomach. My eyes follow, and I let out a gasp at the sight I see next.

His hand was on his stomach, putting pressure on it but a crimson liquid seeped out, trying to desperately escape his body. My throat goes dry.

"...John?" I whisper slightly, not sure on what to do. I hold onto his arm as he falls to his knees. I try to support him, and he leans onto my side, still putting pressure on his new wound.

"John, John you're going to be fine!" My eyes start to water, but I keep the tears in for as long as possible. Chester was still tugging the lead, and I let go off it, unable to save John with just one hand.

Chester runs off, like he was targeting someone and was going to chase them down. His barks go quieter and quieter as he sprints off into the distance, and I turn my full attention towards John, making sure he was okay. My arm goes around his torso to support him, and I place my hand onto his wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

I start to shake, and with my free hand, I timidly reach for my phone in my pocket, bringing it out and calling the ambulance as soon as possible. 

"John, stay with me," I let a tear fall down my cheek, letting go of the pressure and patting his cheek to make sure he stayed awake. There were now marks of blood on his cheek from my hand, and I re-connect with his wound, putting as much pressure on it as I can,"John!"

John mumbles something, but then languidly started to close his eyes. I press call after I typed the emergency number in, then shook my shoulder and arm, causing him to shake too as he was still leaning on me, then tapped his cheek harder. "John!"

His weight on me becomes heavy, his body becomes lifeless, and the simple, small trail of blood dripped from his mouth. The ringing on the other side of the call stops, and finally someone speaks.

"Hello, 999, what is your emergency?"