"There's just one more thing, one more miracle Sherlock, for me," John whispered as he said goodbye to his best friend. "Don't. Be. Dead," John continued, his voice breaking on the last word as he said goodbye to his best friend.

"Just for me, stop it – just stop this," he went on choking back the tears from his shattered heart. But however hard he tried he could not stop the wave of tears flooding his eyes and blurring his vision.

A few tears managed to escape the corners of his eyes whilst he stared at his best friends headstone. John rubbed his eyes and drew in a few deep breaths of air and exhaled them.

He made sure he had fully composed himself before turning his back on the heart-wrenching sight of his best friends grave, and walked out of the cemetery. He couldn't believe that his best friend was gone forever and he wasn't coming back.

'How am I supposed to live a different life when I've had a taste of this one?' John thought to himself. 'I don't want to live another life, I just want Sherlock back.' He continued, 'I want him playing his violin at three thirty in the morning, I want him to shoot more bloady holes in the wall, I just want my best friend back – please bring him back.' John frowned but kept on walking, never looking back.

One day it would get easier – not having Sherlock around, but that day wouldn't be today, wouldn't be tomorrow and wouldn't be any time soon.