the moon turns its clockwork dream

this fic gave me hell, seriously. i didn't even get anyone together! madness.
 
Sherlock and John aren't the first Holmes and Watson to inhabit 221b. Two men in the late 19th century would've gone down in history as the greatest crime-solving duo to walk the face of the Earth. Instead, all traces of them have been obliterated. Something, somewhere, went horribly wrong.

It's up to Sherlock and John to figure it out before it happens again and the clock is ticking.

ETA: Now edited, thanks to

lelek

 i was meant to be doing work. and then Sherlock ate my brain.

Sherlock/John, 1556 words

A chase through half of London's West End. Business as usual for them – Sherlock's long legs carrying him easily across roofs and over balconies, him lagging behind as usual, the phantom not-really-there pain of his leg nagging at him enough to make his gait unsteady, even now.