A Sherlock Fanfiction Collaboration
Written by Clem and Alex
He sat, staring at the message. It was a prank, obviously. A good one. A message across the screen: 'I'm home - SH'.
John pushed the phone across the table. Sherlock was dead; that he knew for certain. No-one could survive a fall like that. Not even him. But there was something, something sitting in the back of his mind. He wanted more than anything to have his friend back. Maybe, just maybe, Sherlock had found a way out of it. Used another body, perhaps? But Molly had checked the DNA herself. She wouldn't lie.
He shook his head, far too tired. It was making him insane. Yet he still couldn't sleep, or at least not without the nightmares. The day replayed over and over every time he closed his eyes.
But there was one night when he came back. His friend. The subject of his dreams. It must've been at least a few months ago now. He'd come home from the surgery a little later than usual, stopping at the pub on his way back. It was typical British weather, rain tipping down from the sky. But this night was different. Back then, on the third anniversary, he was sure he'd gone mad, seeing the familiar figure in the rain.
And now there was this message. What if he wasn't dead? What if all these dreams and sightings and texts weren't just pranks or insanity? But he couldn't think like that. He couldn't lose his last string of sanity. Not now, not once he'd finally started settling into the humdrum movements of everyday life. He'd even begun dating again.
But God, that man in the rain. Same hair, coat, maybe a bit thinner but… as he began to turn John could see even the same eyes. If he was seeing things, he must have a pretty vivid imagination. Surely the footsteps he'd heard were real? The cloud of breath he'd seen? Shaking fingers reached out to tug the woollen sleeve of the familiar dark coat, a weak "Sherlock" falling from his lips.
But the man didn't turn. He didn't speak. With a movement slight and ghostly he pulled away. And John was left alone again.
