I wrote this in the margins of my Math notebook. No Joke.
I own nothing. Hints of JohnLock.
Sherlock walked into the dark flat, blood dripping from the wound on his arm where the bullet had made a clean hole, missing bone and arteries, instead simply tearing muscle that would mend. No, Sherlock currently wasn't worried about himself. Moriarty wasn't after HIS life…
"John?"
He still couldn't believe it. There was no way Moriarty had out played him, at his own game! But as he walked into the kitchen, his fears were realized.
He looked down at the body, his heart clenching painfully in a way he'd never felt before.
'I will burn the HEART out of you'
He knelt down, fingering the broken shards of the tea mug, feeling strange nostalgia. It was John's favorite mug.
Correction, although it pained him to do so. It HAD been John's favorite. And John had been his favorite. Now both of those favored things were gone, shattered on the floor.
John's hand lay next to the shards, and it was slowly becoming in danger of being tainted by a red mass of a puddle slowly moving towards it. Sherlock intertwined his own fingers in John's, some of John's warmth still there as the rest went cold. Sherlock pressed it to his cheek, not registering the sound of sirens from down the street, or Mrs. Hudson weeping in the doorway. All that he knew was that John's hand was in his, warmed by his.
"Oh John…"
He'd fought as someone dragged him away.
"No! His hand will get cold! He always had warm hands! I can't…I can't let…"
Lestrade hooked two arms around Sherlock's torso, hoisting him up out of the bloody mess, avoiding the flailing arms.
"Sherlock…" The flailing continued. "Sherlock, listen to me, John's gone! He's gone, Sherlock!" But the consulting detective looked at him with a blank expression and eyes that spoke of the deepest emotion, and Lestrade understood.
Sherlock knew. He knew what was before him, yet he couldn't accept it, wouldn't.
That also was when DI Lestrade realized that he was dealing with a double homicide. He was looking for the killer of John Watson…and Sherlock Holmes.
Three weeks later, Sherlock Holmes died of a broken heart, the same heart everyone said he didn't have.
Reviews are welcome. This is my first Sherlock.