I don't own Sherlock or Sherlock Holmes. I just own a broken heart and a lot of tears. The Fallen Hero
He couldn't be dead.
He was the great Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, the Reichenbach Hero, and more. Much more than just all that.
He was the best man.
He was John's best friend.
Sherlock knew everything. He would've known how to survive. He didn't have to jump.
John couldn't understand it. He couldn't fathom it. But then again, Sherlock had always said that John had an average mind. Only Sherlock's mind raced like an engine all the time. He was such a genius. So fascinating.
But why?
Why did he have to die?
I was so alone and I owe you so much.And John did owe him so much. He gave John a sense of purpose, the thrill of adventure, and, even if he drove John nuts most of the time, he gave John the gift of companionship. Of friendship.
John was never alone after meeting Sherlock Holmes.
And Sherlock always said he didn't have any friends, but he always had one. Always.
John was always by his side.
But now….now Sherlock wasn't. Now Sherlock wasn't there anymore.
And John…John was alone, once more.
Oh, please, there's just one more thing. One more thing, one more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't. Be. Dead. Would you do that? Just for me? Just stop it, stop this.