John hovered uncomfortably, still struggling with the simple concept of Some's existence- in some ways, it was harder to take in than anything else he'd seen so far, with the exception perhaps of the impossible blade Lindsey had used to cut Sherlock in half.

And, come to think of it, the fact that Sherlock had died.

He folded his arms and attempted to be rational, thankful for the barrage of questions Sherlock was hurling at the grue. It gave him time to think.