It was just another day for Holmes and Watson but this day was not a good day for Watson. So far he had argued with Holmes after saying something to him that had struck a nerve, he had been chased by two men who worked for Proffesor Moriarty and now he was trapped inside an old burning house. He didn't know where Holmes was as he staggered around avoiding the flames that were dancing around him. He was upstairs in the house and he wondered if Holmes had gotten out, or if Holmes knew that he was trapped.

The thick black smoke surrounded Watson, as he staggered cautiously towards what he thought was the door of the room he was in, coughing loudly. He felt it getting hotter as the sweat on his brow dripped down his face, and his moustache had almost caught fire just moments ago knew he stood no chance of getting out uninjured, but getting out alive was all that mattered.

He slowly walked through the door and out to the top of the stairs, coughing heavily as the smoke filled his aching lungs and he saw the fire was down the stairs making it so he couldn't get out. There was no way he could get out, apart from running through the fire and he wasn't going to do that. He was hoping that Holmes was alright as he didn't want anything happening to him.

Watson took a step back from the stairs, covering his mouth and nose with his tweed jacket sleeve. He looked around quickly looking for a window where he could possibly get out of, then he saw one just yards away from him and he staggered towards it, through the smoke.

Holmes had ran out of the house as soon as he had saw it was on fire and then he remembered Watson was in there. His gut was in knots as he watched the flames closely, while thick black smoke came out of the open windows.

Holmes was looking around for any sign of Watson and then he realised that Watson might not be able to get out. His heart stopped and he looked up at the burning house to see one of the closed windows with a hand on it. Watson could see the expression on Holmes's face as he looked at him and Holmes felt all the blood drain from his face.

"Watson!" Holmes yelled.

With no second thoughts Holmes made a run for the open door of the house as he knew that his best friend needed him now more than ever. Watson was near the window trying to get it open, but it was jammed shut and he was coughing violently, as he was getting dizzy. He knew there was an open window in the room near him but he didn't know where he was as a blanket of thick smoke surrounded him.

He was leaning against the wall as his knees were getting weaker, and he wanted to give in. As he closed his eyes slowly, his hand slipped off the window and he almost fell to the ground. He was about to give in but then he heard someone shout his name, that sounded very much like Holmes. His eyes shot open, as he knew that he had to get out, not just for him but for Holmes and Watson looked around as he saw the flames getting closer to him. He pushed himself off the wall and began to stumble through the flames towards the room, covering his face and hoping to find an open window.

He was stumbling and staggering now and his vision was filled with little dots that were dancing around. He tried to blink them away, but his vision was turning grey, getting narrower, like a long tunnel. Watson could feel his knees buckling and he put a hand on the wall closest to him, trying to remain standing. A loud ringing noise in his ears, covered the sound of crackling and burning wood, and he wondered if this was the end for him.

He tried to breathe in, and all he inhaled was the thick black smoke. He was still coughing and as he felt himself falling as his legs gave way. He met the ground with a dull thud and the last thing he heard was Holmes screaming his name over and over before the blackness took over him. Watson drifted off in to a peaceful sleep as memories of his life went through his head.

"Watson! Where are you?" Holmes coughed.

Holmes was running through the burning house, with his jacket sleeve covering his mouth and nose, as he made his way up the set of burning stairs. He ran right through the flames on the stairs, not caring about himself getting hurt, all that mattered was getting Watson out alive. Tears were stinging his red eyes as worry had his heart in a vice and he fought back the tears that tried to escape.

Holmes couldn't lose his best friend, not like this, not this way, not ever. Holmes was coughing slightly and praying to the god that he didn't believe in that Watson would be standing there by that window when he got there. Holmes pushed some burning wood to the side as he coughed harshly, then he ran in to the room where Watson had been just moments ago only to find he wasn't there. Then as Holmes frantically turned around to leave the room, he saw Watson lying face down on the floor just a few yards away from him.

"Watson!" Holmes shouted and coughed.

Holmes dashed over to the doctor's unmoving form and he turned him on to his back, only to see that his eyes were closed. Holmes knew he had to get him out, so he lifted Watson up the best that he could and using his leg muscles he stood up, with Watson over his shoulder. Holmes held his friend the best that he could with one arm and he ran out of the room, back down the flame covered stairs and back out of the house in to the fresh clean air.

Holmes ran away from the house quickly and then he set Watson down carefully on the ground, as he dropped to his knees beside his partner. Watson's eyes were closed, his face was covered in black dust, he was covered in wounds and he was covered in debris. His clothes were burnt and he looked dead as his head lolled to the side lifelessly.

"Watson!" Holmes said.

Holmes put his hands on Watson's shoulders as he shook him trying to bring him around but he didn't move. Holmes was fearing the worst as he didn't know what to do, which made him regret not listening to Watson. Then acting on instinct Holmes held his ear above Watson's mouth and nose, checking to see if he was breathing. After a few seconds he didn't feel or hear anything and he felt a vice clamp around his breaking heart.

Holmes moved back from leaning down and put two fingers under Watson's jaw on his neck looking for a pulse. He felt a faint beat under his finger tips and he sighed relieved. Holmes knew that Watson wasn't breathing and he didn't know what he could do, after all he wasn't a doctor. He knew that he had to get Watson breathing again, but how? Normally people breathed through their mouths and noses, so maybe if Holmes provided him with the air he needed, Watson might start breathing again. Then it hit him and even though Holmes didn't want to do it, it was worth a shot and Holmes settled himself by Watson's head.

"Come on, please don't make me do this, don't make me kiss you Watson," Holmes muttered.

Even though he hesistated Holmes hunched over Watson's face, tilted his head back, opening his airway, held back his forehead and pinched his nose closed with his thumb and forefinger. Holmes was going to change his mind but he urged himself to do what needed to be done. Holmes took a breath and then parted Watson's lips, before sealing Watson's lips with his own, feeling Watson's moustache tickle his upper lips. Holmes exhaled a breath in to Watson's lungs providing him with the oxygen he needed and Watson's cheeks puffed out.

"Don't you dare die on me Watson!" Holmes urged.

Holmes wondered if this technique he had thought of would work as it was his only hope and Holmes leant down once more, pinched Watson's nose, then blew another breath in to his unmoving body. The events finally sunk in as Holmes wiped a hand over his own face as he noted to himself that his best friend was lying there and Holmes felt like his heart was being torn apart.

"Please John, I know you can hear me," Holmes told him.

Holmes was so lost in thought as he blew another breath in to Watson's unresponsive form, then he heard a gasp of breath, and he moved his head back, as Watson came back to the land of the living. Holmes moved back from him slightly, sighing in relief as Watson coughed as the clean air hurt his lungs. Holmes watched his friend as Watson finally opened his eyes, then he looked around and slowly sat up with Holmes's help. Then before Watson could say anything, Holmes had his arms around him in a strong hug, which made Watson feel safe. Watson was going to pull away but didn't as he hugged the detective back. Holmes held Watson close to him and then pulled away to look at him for a moment.

"Holmes?" Watson asked, his voice croaky and rough.

"My dear Watson, you scared the living shit out of me," Holmes stated.

"I'm sorry Holmes,"

"It's quite alright," Holmes said.

"No, I am sorry for earlier. I didn't mean what I said," Watson apologised.

"Apology accepted Watson," Holmes smiled.

Thanks for reading guys. I hope you enjoyed this, if you didn't I apologise and yes I know that all this medical stuff wasn't until the 1950's or something like that, but it is fanfiction afterall. I am in love with RDJude so at the moment I am writing a lot of Holmes/Watson fics, because they are just perfect together. I recently saw the almost RDJude kiss where they fake kiss and I actually cried :D Anyway please review as I love knowing what you think and it is much appreciated :)