*John POV*
Sherlock is still sleeping , barely moving when I pull myself out from under him and stand up slowly. The house is dark again, evening shadows spreading through the hall as the sunlight gets weaker and is unable to pierce the grime on the windows. I shuffle down the corridor, barely able to make it to the room at the end of the hall before my leg goes numb again. I shove the door open, breathing shallowly through my mouth in an attempt to block out the smell of decay and blood as I dig through Jim and Sebastian's pockets to find a mobile.
"John?"
"I'll be back in just a minute love, calm down."
Sherlocks voice is weak and panic laced, prompting me to hurry back down the corridor.
"Hey. How do you feel?"
"Where did you go?"
I hold up the mobile proudly, lowering myself down beside Sherlock carefully.
"You went back there?"
"Yeah. Its fine, I don't plan on going back again. Now, lets see if this thing works and we can get out of here."
Sherlock leans against me, struggling to pull the coat off of him.
"Do you need help?"
"Please."
I nod, gently drawing the coat off of him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
"Your running a fever."
"I'm fine. Just make the call. Please."
Sherlock starts coughing, pulling away from me suddenly. I hold down the power button, turning on the mobile only to see that it has five precent battery.
"John..."
"Its alright, I'm dialing now."
After a few seconds, someone picks up, just as Sherlock grabs my arm weakly.
"Trace the call. Now."
"Excuse me? Sir, are you alright?"
"No. We need you to trace the call. Please."
"Okay. Can you give me your location please?"
"Trace the bloody call! I dont know where we are and this mobile is about to die!"
"Okay sir, can you calm down please? We are doing our best to trace the call, but our connection is weak. Can you tell me what happened?"
"Its bloody cold, and dark. The bodies are down the corridor, and my boyfriend is injured. Multiple stab wounds to the stomach and ribs. I cant get the bleeding to stop. Now hurry up and get him some help!"
"We have a signal, I just sent a team out to get you. It could take a while, the roads are icy and its dark out. Your signal is coming from about twenty minutes away from the station. Keep pressure on the wounds and make sure he keeps breathing. Stay calm."
Sherlock pulls on my sleeve, whimpering softly as he falls against me.
"Sherlock? Hey, you're alright. Its okay. Sherlock?"
I look down slowly, panicking when I realize he isnt breathing well and there is blood staining his lips.
"No. Sherlock, look at me. You can't do this! No...Sherlock please no!"
He starts coughing again, more blood soaking through the makeshift bandages around his midsection.
"Damn it...Sherlock, you're alright. Breathe, please just breathe. I've got you, I promise. Please Sherlock."
"John..."
"Yes, its alright. I'm right here."
"I...I love you."
I bite my lip, holding back tears as he slowly reaches up and grabs the front of my jumper to pull me towards him. He pulls me close to him, gently pressing his lips to mine as his breathing becomes more shallow. The door opens suddenly, Greg running in with a gun raised.
"Fucking hell you two. Ive got them! Hall is clear!"
More people come into the hall, Greg kneeling beside us and gently trying to pull us apart.
"Dont move him."
Greg sits down, handing me a water bottle and calling on his radio for the paramedics to show up.
