My first fic away from the humor genre. It is about the farthest you can get away from humor, too.

This is a complete AU/AR/AT, whatever you want to call it, really. Come Season 4, this will all be nullified.

I don't have a beta for this... please excuse grammatical errors.

All rights to respective owners.

John walked slowly up to 221B. How could he ever face that room again? The hazardously flammable experiments. The completely disgusting cadavers in the fridge. The shot up wall. The choking cloud of dust from disturbed papers. But this time it would be different. There was nothing to greet him except a skull. Because only a few days earlier, Sherlock had jumped off the roof of a building.

There had been nothing John could say that would dissuade Sherlock from jumping off that accursed rooftop. There had been no actions for John to perform to reverse the laws of gravity. There had been nothing John could do about the horrors residing in his mind when he knew Sherlock had hit the ground. Although he was really too far away, the doctor could almost hear every bone in Sherlock's body snap with a deafening CRUNCH. There had been no way for John to stop his rampant imagination when he was sure he heard Sherlock's heart stop its life-giving beat. There had been nothing John could do to save his best friend. John stood into the doorway to their... No, his flat. Now, there was nothing he could do to bring Sherlock back.

Okay, so... I really need to know what you think. Please review and tell me if you loved it and want me to continue, or you hated it and want this Prologue deleted. If there are no opinions by the end of February 28, I will continue the story regardless.