Sherlock felt dizzy, nauseous, but he couldnt lay down, or even move, while all of the memories whizzed past him. He saw himself fucking random people, killing them, then as the ultimate insult, personally ferrying them to the Pool of Souls. He saw Fates, his one true friend, and Zeus, his older brother the one he always wanted to look up to, and he was rejected and abandoned, sentenced to rule Hell forever.

And then there was John. His John.

The John he found in an alleyway, then took to hell and took him, pounding into him until he ad drained his seed.

John, eating the pomegrante seed.

John, getting angry and leaving.

John dying.

John being reborn.

Years of waiting, then... elation at having his John back.

Then he was gone... off to Sydney

And those sandals, those robes as black as night, and that laugh...

And just like that, the memories stopped, and he jolted awake, falling out of bed with a loud crash and a yell.