John stood frozen, uncomprehending. Sherlock's blood stained his face in tiny droplets, smelling of rust and something bitter. The noise of gunfire was too familiar but the silence that followed wasn't.
It was unnatural the world was so cold and quiet.
Except John spoke too soon. He could hear a very faint whirring and ticking. The bomb. He was still attached to it and with no way to deactivate it.
no subject
*
John stood frozen, uncomprehending. Sherlock's blood stained his face in tiny droplets, smelling of rust and something bitter. The noise of gunfire was too familiar but the silence that followed wasn't.
It was unnatural the world was so cold and quiet.
Except John spoke too soon. He could hear a very faint whirring and ticking. The bomb. He was still attached to it and with no way to deactivate it.
Fuck.