Author's notes: Sorry it's short. It's only chapter one. I plan to write longer ones soon.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.
"Sherlock! No!"
John Watson bolted upright in the middle of Sherlock's bed. It had been six months. The longest six months John had ever experienced. Mrs Hudson peeped her head around the door.
"John, dear. Did you have the dream again?" She asked, her gentle smile turning into concern for the ex-army doctor lying in front of her. The therapy John had been getting didn't seem to be working.
"...Yeah." John replied, his face drooping and his eyes fixed on the bed sheet. Sherlock's bed sheet. It was so... Sherlock. He felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes. His best friend-Sherlock Holmes- was dead. He had been for six months. Why did part of him still think that it was all part of some sick joke? He guessed it was bereavement, and ignored that thought nagging at the back of his head.
Mrs Hudson scuttled into the kitchen of 221B and returned with a cup of coffee, just as John liked it and set it down beside him. She joined him at the edge of Sherlock's bed and held out her arms for a hug, hoping to be of some comfort to the man. John graciously accepted all the comfort he could get nowadays. He returned Mrs Hudson's hug, sniffed and looked upwards in attempt to stop the tears from falling. Two years ago, he never would have imagined being this...lost after a friend's passing.
"Thanks," he mumbled as he nodded towards the coffee cup on the bedside table. Mrs. Hudson always knew how to cheer him up. Even if it was only temporary.
He rolled out of the right side of the bed, breaking the hug. After lifting the coffee, he slowly shuffled his way into the living room to turn on the 10 A.M news. He liked the news, it reminded him of how Sherlock watched it, eager to see if it held any vital clues to help solve a case. Of course, he liked it for the fact that he knew what was going on all over the world, too. Nothing of particular interest was shown, so John headed off to shower hoping it would raise his spirits a little more before going to visit Molly Hooper and Greg Lestrade for a lunch in the local pub.
It had been Molly's idea to invite John along to the meal. "We aren't dating." Was a phrase which had been tagged on to the invitation, which made John giggle like a schoolgirl. If Molly and Greg weren't considered a couple, then he didn't know what was. Especially as they had gotten a lot closer after Greg's divorce from his cheating wife.