This is a very short fic that appeared in my head while I was scrolling through pinterest. I can't wait for season three...TOO BAD IDOT HAVE BBC AMERICA
I hope you enjoy it!
"Shoot me. " Sherlock said as he stood with his feet firmly on the ground. His anticipated grew. Lesrtrade stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do. Donovan had her back turned, she wasn't sure if she really wanted to see him-go.
"Shoot me!" Sherlock said as he pulled some sort of trigger object. Lestrade was about to step forward to calm Sherlock; but then there was a loud boom and down the detective fell.
Lestrade turned around to see a stein attached to several contraptions and a gun. Sherlock somehow rigged it to shoot when he pressed the 'trigger object'.
Greg looked down, taking a peice of paper from his pocket.
"He's dead, Sherlock, we found him this morning in his flat. Shot himself in the head. He left a note: You didn't come back. So I'm coming to you.-John"
Donovan practically tripped down the stairs as she made her way out. Tears strolling down her face. Anderson sat in the car. He noticed Donavan bust out of 221b. She didn't look back at the flat. Anderson could hear her curse herself for all the terrible things she said to him. 'Freak'.
Anderson didn't bother to explain what happened. He didn't want to push her into saying anything.
Lestrade took a look at the consulting detectives body. The bullet wheny straight trough his skull. His brain. His mind. That brilliant mind of his. The thousand of cases solved because of him.
Greg informed Mrs. Hudson about what had happed. Both had decided to invite Mycroft over to decide further actions. The flat wouldn't be rented out to no one. The belongings would stay out; left untouched.
"Sorry sweetheart, no rooms available for rent." Mrs Hudson smiled sofly to the couple as they walked out. Tilting her head to the left she looked at a picture of her husband and carefully laid it down on the wooden counter. Her eyes weren't as swollen as yesterday. Wiping a tear away from her cheek, Sauntering into her kitchen,she took the kettle of the stove and poored enough for two.
Carrying the tray up the stairs, she set it down on the edge of the table-since most of it was covered in lab equipment. She knew how he always hot frustrated when she touched his stuff.
She put two sugars in one cup, and let the other alone. Carrying the two cups to the coffee table between two seats near the fireplace, she set them down.
"There you go boys."
She ambled her way through the door when she could indistinctly hear a witty remark. She smiled and took a look at the empty flat with a bittersweet smile.
"I'm not your house keeper."
Aannndd there it is...I may not be the best writer in the world, but its good right?
summer is almost over and I won't be able to read any fanfiction...I've read some very good ones.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!
