Listen to watch?v=hSH7fblcGWM whilst reading.
"Jesus. Jesus." John massaged the area between his eyes, exhaling loudly.
He wished he'd brought his stick along with him, as the incessant pain of his old limp threatened to overcomehim.
He missed being shot at. He missed throwing himself in death's path. How ridiculous was that?
He missed being told that he was doing it all wrong or sometimes he was even more idiotic than Anderson. He missed having a human crutch.
He took in the graveyard. Not a graveyard, as such. None like those he'd seen – men scattered over the rocks. Their souls untimely ripped from their bodies.
No, here was just an expanse of grass, stone and coat.
Coat?
He peered at the spot.
Nothing.
John held his face in his hands. Seeing ghosts?
Despair.
It should have been me throwing myself off that damn building. Why did he do it?
Because he's Sherlock.
Sherlock.
Sherlock.
"Sherlock."
The sound echoed. John hated how pathetic he sounded. He hadn't lost a lover, nor a family member.
Then why did it feel as if he'd lost both?
The pain in his leg grew to an unbearable throb.
He rose from the bench and didn't notice the thump to his right until he had taken another few steps.
"John."
Two steps.
"John."
Two steps.
"John."
"Oh Hell! This is my mind, isn't it? Playing tricks on me." He stopped. "What do you want from me?" John screamed to the expanse. It seemed silly. It seemed the only person to ask.
"John."
He span.
"John."
There it was. Coming from the place he thought he might have glimpsed the coat at.
"John."
He walked towards the name.
"John."
Quicker.
"John."
He broke into a run.
"John."
"What? Sher…?"
"John." He looked up, a pained smile on his face.
The named broke into a shout. "But you're dead. You're damn cold dead! I saw myself!"
"It's not what you – "
"I should have known." He ran his fingers through his hair, looking at the sky. "You're crazy!" A manic chuckle escaped his lips.
"John."
"Jesus. Do you even know – do you even – I was this close, Sherlock. This damn close." He choked out.
"John, I had no idea – "
"You had no idea. The famous Sherlock Holmes had no idea."
" –I had no idea it would affect you so much."
"Well it did, Sherlock. It damn well did."
Silence.
"I'm sorry, John."
Silence.
"For everything."
Silence.
"I'm sorry I'm going to put you through it again."
"What do you mean?"
"John, I'm sorry. Tell Molly."
"You're sweating."
"I – "
"Short of breath."
"I – "
"You've not moved your arms. Are you…?"
Sherlock nodded.
"You're having a heart attack."
"John, before you knew me, I took drugs –"
That was when Sherlock's legs gave way and suddenly everything happened much faster and Sherlock was on the floor and his body shook and spasmed and this time John was by his side and this time the emotions didn't paralyse him and his tears stained Sherlock's shirt his favourite shirt and
And
And
And
And
John couldn't go to the same funeral twice.