Chapter Text
The rain hammered down as John stepped out of the grocery store. He swore as he pulled his hood up, holding the bag of groceries in his other hand.
Starting off across the street, he narrowly avoided being drenched by a car passing through a puddle.
Suddenly, he doubled over in pain, the groceries spilling from their bag. Cars honked at the man kneeling in the middle of the road.
A tall figure loomed over John, shielding him from the rain and oncoming cars.
“You okay, mate?“, the man asked with a Cockney accent. When he got no response except for John clutching his head tighter, he tapped him on the shoulder. “Can I help you?“
John looked up. “221B“, he gasped.
The stranger looked around and spotted the glossy black door with the gold door knocker. Gently, he settled John‘s arm around his shoulders and picked up the plastic bag. Meanwhile, other passersby had stopped the cars, allowing the two men to safely cross the road.
The door to 221B opened and Sherlock rushed out, Mrs. Hudson close behind him. Together, they all managed to carry John, who was now unconscious, up the stairs and settled him on the sofa.
Mrs. Hudson hurried off to prepare tea and get the first-aid kit, while the stranger stood around awkwardly.
“Er- will he be alright?“, he asked.
Mrs. Hudson had returned during Mr. Young‘s introduction and now fussed over John, while Sherlock tried to wake him up.
“Thank you for your help, sir“, he said without looking up. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. Is there anything else I can help you with?“
“Uh, no, not really. It was all just a coincidence, you see.”
Sherlock glanced up. “Are you superstitious?”, he asked.
The man was taken aback. “Well, I- sorry, what?”
“Do you believe in fate, spirits, that kind of thing?”
“Ah. No. I mean, there’s always a scientific explanation to all those supposed sightings, is there?”
“Mhm. Yes.” Sherlock stood up. “Well, once again, thank you.”
The man nodded and walked to the door. He paused, his hand on the doorknob. “Can I help you in any way?”
"Oh, no, thank you. We’ll be alright. Good day!”
The man nodded and exited the flat.
“Well, I’m sure you’re perfectly capable of taking care of John on your own. I promised my niece I’d visit today, so I do need to get going.” Mrs. Hudson left through the kitchen door.
– – – –
John’s eyes blinked open. Slowly, the ceiling swam into view, as the last remnants of his nightmare throbbed in his head. He’d been crossing the street when everything went black, and he started dreaming.
He was in a dark, cold room, tied to a hard-backed chair. A cloth over his lips gagged him. Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps and the flickering of fluorescent lights came from behind. Two men and a woman came into view. The two men wore dark suits that consisted more of patches than anything else, and one had an oddly-shaped hat on his head that resembled a frog. The other wore a fishnet mask over his face, and he hissed at the sight of John.
The woman wore a dark blue military uniform, with a brown sash across her chest. Her brown hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and the lights made her skin look pale green. Her face seemed to have scales, and her eyes were dark and malicious. She stared at John, who glared back.
“Look, I don’t know where I am, or how I got here, but can we speed this up a bit? I’ve got more important things to do than to be tied to a chair.”
The woman smirked. “Sure. Like… stopping Armageddon?”
John froze. “What?”
“You heard me. Now, let me tell you that I had my work cut out for me. But then you and your meddlesome friend show up and make everything go all off script!”
“Off script?”, John repeated.
“Yes. The Apocalypse has been scheduled for millennia. We can’t have you messing this up!”
“Okay, wait. The Apocalypse is coming?”
“You really are slow, aren’t you?”
John chuckled, then winced. “It’s just a bit difficult to grasp, is all.”
“Yes, for a human mind. Now, I believe we all have better places to be. Ligur–”, she turned to the man with the toad hat “--go find that troublesome demon and make sure he cooperates. Take Hastur with you.”
She turned back to John. “And you can go back. Give Sherlock Holmes my best regards and tell him: He’s risking everything he cares about if he continues investigating. I’ll see you again very soon.”
She snapped her fingers, and John’s world faded to black.
The first thing John noticed when he awoke was the ceiling, which was immediately obscured by Sherlock’s face as he leaned over him.
“What happened?”, he asked, compassionate as always.
“Well, I was just crossing the street–”
“No. While you were gone.”
“How did you– was I twitching?”
“No, no. But your breathing was panicky, and your hands were sweaty. Typical signs of a nightmare, but you collapsed in broad daylight. So, with the current events going on, you must have had a vision. What was it about?”
John smiled. “You really are brilliant, you know that?”
“Get on with it..”
“Right. Sorry.” John recounted his kidnapping. When he’d finished, Sherlock stood at the window, staring out onto the street, hands clasped behind his back.
“I guess the ‘End Times’ are coming, then.”
John sat up and nodded. “And there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”