John Wattson was sad.
Less sad then he had been the last weeks but still. He was sad.
He still couldn't believe that it had all just been a trick, I mean HOW COULD HE?! It had been two weeks since Sherlock had jumped. All officers were still busy with "solving how he did it"
"did what?" John would ask, on which the officers mostly say "how he survived without us noticing!"
At that point John just wanted to scream "SHERLOCK. IS. DEAD." but he couldn't, he can't. Because Sherlock was his best friend.
He swallowed in pain, while he walked along on the path he had walked too much these days. The path to the bar, to drink away his pain.
He had no one, so no one could judge.
When he finally arrived at the bar (finally being relative), he sat down at his now nearly own chair. Next to him say a girl. A girl with short blond hair and a warming smile. Wait, why did she smile at him? "H... hello?" He tried "do I know you?"
"Oh John" the anonymous lady replied, who apparently also knew his name. "don't you remember? I knew you were too drunk last night."
John was rather confused. "uhm..." then suddenly it all came back to him, everything that happened last night. It wasn't much though, he met this girl named Mary and they danced, he also remembered something that had to do with elbows. He didn't know what that was all about.
"MARY! I am SO sorry!" He quickly said. After realising that he had been thinking for quite a while now.
"Yup, that's me! I also was a bit drunk later on, don't worry." She had that smile on het again. It was a nice smile, John felt like he had to smile too.
He didn't know exactly though, because she basically just insulted him. But as long as her sentences ended with that smile he was fine with her insulting him.
"Y... you have a really nice smile you know?" All kinds of thoughts raced through his mind; why did I say that? Should I smile now? Does she even like compliments? What was that with the elbows?
"Well thanks John!" John snapped back from his thoughts when Mary reacted with a sense of surprise in her voice, boy did he like her.
Johns thoughts went back to last nights. Partly because he wanted to find out more about the elbow thing. Sherlock would have gone to his mind palace, if that was even real.
UGH he could only find fague memories! Now he wished he didn't drink so much last night.
He signed the bartender for a drink: "the usual?" He asked, on which John answered, for the first time in two weeks: I think I'll have something less strong." Was he done grieving? Not yet, but Mary was definitely helped.
Then he woke up, immediately panicked. Had it all just been a dream? He wanted to go back! He wanted to see Mary!