Note: I do not own Sherlock and John. I just had the idea to this story that kept nagging in my head for a while. Thanks to the wonderful cast and crew from BBC's Sherlock who did inspire me to write this.

Prologue John

The first thing he feels is the weight of the bomb on his chest. Slowly he raises his arm to put his hand on this device. He opens his eyes and he can see the lights blinking. This time the bomb is equipped with a timer. He can clearly see his time is running out. He's got only five minutes to live.

Slowly he raises his head to look around. Where has Moriarty taken him this time? Under his raising panic he feels also a little embarrassment. He got him, again. Stupid! Stupid John Watson! Not on the watch, as he should have been.

The fog in his mind is clearing. He was going for a walk. He had needed some air, because his flatmate was playing the violin at half past three in the morning. Even though he was not allowed to sleep then, but Sherlock couldn't bind him in the flat. So he took his jacket and stormed out of 221b Baker Street. Not observant as he should have been after the swimming pool fiasco, he took his way on the London Streets. And there at some point Moriarty got him, again.

John sighs. To late to blame himself. He looks around. He is lying in a storage building. Several wooden crates around him. At first, he thinks he's alone. But the light is dim. As he gets on his feet he can see a body lying in a distance of five meter. The body is not moving.

He shakes his head to get rid of the headache the chloroform has given him. Slowly he moves toward the figure on the ground. After two steps he recognises Sherlock. Shit, Moriarty got him, too. Oh what a night, John thinks and then he rushes towards his friend. Kneeling beside him, he can see that Sherlock is also drugged and unconscious.

Looking down on the timer he sees that there are only four minutes left to get the bomb from his body. But he knows he can't do this alone. This thing is complicated and he's afraid that it will explode if he touches the wrong part.

Softly he shakes Sherlock. Giving more and more effort to make him awake he shouts out his name aloud. The man under his hands is moving. His eyes fly open and his mind is covering the whole situation at once.

"John, got yourself a bomb again."

"Oh will you shut up and take this thing away, please?"

Three minutes left, says the timer. The two men are working nervously. Sherlock examines the bomb carefully, and then pulls out a pocket-knife. The bomb is strapped around John's body with a simple belt. With the knife Sherlock cuts the bomb from John's body. He puts the thing on the ground and steps aside.

Both men draw a deep breath. Smiling at each other. Then they look around for a way to escape. The timer is still ticking down. They separate to search the storage hall for an exit. But all doors they find are closed. Sherlock looks up. Up on the wall just beneath the roof are small windows.

He shouts "John, we have to build our way out!" pointing at the crates. The timer shows that there at two minutes left.

John hurries up to carry some crates under the window. Sherlock does the same. But they are too slow, and they know it. The crates are very heavy. What's stuck inside? muses John. In movement to lift a crate up Sherlock stops. Takes a look on the timer. One minute to go.

"John, we are stuck. We won't get up there in time. We have to shield from the upcoming explosion."

John stops dead. Searches the look of his friend. A few seconds their looks are locked. John nods and let go of the crate. He knows what is coming. He takes a deep breath. Knowing what he has to do he takes Sherlock's hand. "I'm sorry for this." He mumbles. With a last look on the timer (30 seconds to go) he pushes his friend behind the crates. There's only place for one. No time for arguing. Sherlock has to survive. John knows that he has to shield Sherlock with his body, so that he will survive. But Sherlock's opinion is different.

The last ten seconds the timer is counting out loud.

Ten.

Sherlock pushes John out of the way.

Nine.

Like a dance-move he swings John around and holds him tightly in place.

Eight.

John is hysterical. He can't move. Sherlock can't do this. He will not give his life.

Seven.

One single tear is falling on John's cheek but it is not his.

Six.

He looks up. Sherlock's face shows urgency need to say something. His eyes are filled to the brim with tears.

Five.

John's hand touches the face of his friend.

Four.

"I will not let you die!" John tries to sneak his way out of the strong hands.

Three.

"I will not die. Just stay put!" Sherlock pushes his hand away and let's go of John.

Two.

Sherlock rushes across the room. John is frozen.

One.

He wants to close his eyes. But he also wants to see. Sherlock has arrived on the other side of the room and jumps.

Zero.

John's thoughts stop. All he can see is white.

All is quiet.