A/n: First fanfic on this new account; this will be a collection of unrelated one-shots based on quotes or one-word prompts. Constructive criticism is welcome.
Summary: "One day, we'll all be standing around a body and Sherlock Holmes will be the one that put it there." Post-Reichenbach. Third person omniscient in John's pov.
The funeral had been horrible.
And quite boring.
And rather pointless.
Oh dear God... that man had finally started rubbing off on him.
"...you were the most human, human being that I've ever met... I was so alone, and I owe you so much. Oh, and there's one more thing... one more miracle, Sherlock. Don't be... dead. All right? Would you do that for me? Just stop it. Stop this..."
Funerals just made everything worse. They were proof that somebody had died. Why had he even bothered going? He could've pretended that Sherlock was still alive and that eh was just away on a case. Forever.
Or he could pretend that they had gotten into a row and Sherlock had moved out but had forgotten most of his belongings in the flat.
The second one seemed much more probable.
Oh, who was he kidding?
Sherlock was dead.
He was never coming back, and he just wasn't ready for that.
No more running up the stairs, scared out of his mind because the sociopath was shooting the wall out of boredom. No more head in the fridge, fingers in the microwave or experiments on the kitchen table. No more being told to rush back to the flat even though he was halfway across London just because he was needed to send a text to a serial killer.
No more chases.
No more battle.
No more life-threatening situations.
Worst of all, no more Sherlock.
They had a little get-together after the funeral. Surprisingly, Mycroft had been the one to arrange it. Nearly everybody who knew the consulting detective was there, even the ones that didn't care all that much for the man.
Of course Lestrade was there. Molly from the morgue and Mrs. Hudson were there too. Even Mycroft had found some time. Most of NSY was there, including Donovan and Anderson.
John had been surprised to see that the two were there, until he realized that Lestrade had most likely forced the two to go. He walked up to Donovan.
"You were right in the end, you know," he said.
"What?" Donovan asked, turning around from the buffet table.
"When we first met," he began, "You told me that he gets off from solving cases. That one day, just showing up wouldn't be enough and one day we'd all be standing around a body, and Sherlock Holmes would have been the one to put it there. Looks like you were right. We were all standing around a body earlier, and Sherlock Holmes as the one that put it there."
He left Donovan by the table with her mouth agape with shock.
A/n: Bad? Good? Absolutely terrible? Let me know if I should continue this oneshot series! Feedback is welcome!
