The ground beneath him creaked and warped and Sherlock scrambled up the bank a couple of steps, just in time to watch his friend plummet into the water.

"John!" He cried immediately, lurching forward and stumbling in the mud, almost tipping himself into the water but somehow catching his balance. Once the initial moment of panic wore off, however, reality caught up with him. John was a strong enough swimmer, even in all those clothes and his shoes. They would have to make a larger fire than they had meant to, but the nights weren't too cold, so surely they could dry him off well enough--