I don't own Sherlock or Lloyd Webber songs.
John Watson cruising along the highway in his car. Harry has invited him to spend the weekend with her and her girlfriend, and he has accepted because he hasn't been out much since…the fall. He thought the trip would be a welcome distraction but no, the solitary car ride has made it worse. The thoughts swirling round his head are louder than ever, and he has put on the radio to drown them out.
There was a rock song playing, but it has switched to a Lloyd Webber song, 'Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again'. He snorts. How surprisingly apt, he thinks, and is reaching over to change stations when he stops and stares at the radio.
There was something else, something other than the music. It almost sounded like someone was talking…surely not. He listens more carefully, keeping one eye on the road.
Sometime it seemed
if I just dreamed
somehow you would be here
I don't have friends. Only one.
Wishing I could hear your voice again…
John pulls over to the side of the road and stops. He is shaking now, his breath coming in short gasps, he is almost hyperventilating. He raises a shaking hand to his face. Listening some more, he can tell that the words keep repeating themselves and regular intervals. Suddenly, the words change with no warning.
Teach me to live
give me the strength to try!
Baker Street. Come at once if convenient.
No more memories
no more silent tears
Come if not convenient
No more gazing across the wasted years
John shakes his head and turns his car around, heading back home. Harry can wait.