This story is inspired by the song Carry You Home by James Blunt. I'd give it a listen before you read.

Just something I had to get out on paper so to speak. :) not beta read or Brit picked so sorry in advance for any errors.

Warning: Major Character Death

I don't own anything.

Enjoy...

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As Strong As You Were...

John pounded through the soft pine needles lining the forest floor at a pace that put one in mind of running from a murderer.

Not towards one.

And yet here he was again running after his mad flatmate in the dead of night.

He could see Sherlock's long wool coat flapping wildly as he chased the murder suspect ahead of them.

They had been following the man for hours in the hope that he would lead them to his employer.

Then he had started to drive out of town.

He knew he was being followed.

He never listens, John thought. He'd told Sherlock it was a bad idea to chase a killer off into the countryside without backup.

No one even knew where they were exactly. He had fired off a text to Lestrade before running off into the woods but he was at least an hour away.

When the man had stopped his car and took off on foot into the dense forest, Sherlock had taken off after him without hesitation. Like he always did.

The trees were so thick that John lost his bearings almost immediately. His only point of reference was the bounding detective in front of him.

"Hurry up John! He's getting away!"

If possible Sherlock sprinted even faster.

Damn him and his long legs.

John watched him bound up a short hill to an outcropping of rocks a little ways ahead. He paused and John was able to catch up to him. He pushed for breath as Sherlock angrily yanked at his hair and paced in circles looking around wildly.

"Where did he go?!" he paced back and forth nearly manic as if by sheer force of will he could summon the missing man to him. There was nowhere he could have gone. The dark forest they had just came from was to their back and the rocks dropped off almost vertically in front of them.

Keeping a wary eye out himself John said, " I think he's gotten away. It's too dark to see any distance and we can't stay out looking all night."

Sherlock growled in anger, "Fine but we-"

Before he could finish a dark figure dropped from the trees above right onto his shoulders and they both crashed to the ground in a heap.

He started in shock for a brief second before he reacted.

Did he just jump from a bloody tree?

The distinct sound of bone snapping and a cry of pain jolted him to action, his soldiers mind taking over. Save his comrade from his attacker.

At the moment the large muscled man had Sherlock pinned on the ground with his arm twisted backwards at an unnatural angle. Broken, John thought.

He covered the few feet between them in a flash and knocked the man to the ground with a tackle that would make his rugby mates proud. They tumbled several feet and landed with John on top. He tried to pin the thugs arms but he was faster and threw a nasty punch to Johns ribs, knocking the breath from him. He threw them both over so John was now the one in the dirt.

The man was much stronger than he appeared and at the moment that strength was directed at Johns face. He got in two solid jabs before John could catch his breath. He felt blood pouring from his nose.

Enough was enough.

John crashed his fist into the man's jaw and he staggered back onto his arse. John was on his feet ready to pounce when he saw the glint of the cold steel in the moonlight.

"Now let's be civilized shall we? No more of this rolling about in the dirt rubbish. I'll just shoot you. Be nice and neat about it." he said in a thick Irish accent.

John held up his hands. "Think about this for a minute. The police know we followed you out here and they are on their way now. You won't get away with just shooting us."

The gun didn't waver.

His attention was drawn to Sherlock who was finally dragging himself up, hugging his injured arm to his chest.

John watched the gun swung around to aim at Sherlock.

He leaped at the suspect.

The warning shout from Sherlock came to late as the edge of rock face rushed at him.

His momentum carried them both over.

"This is going to hurt" he thought.