Final goodbye – A Johnlock story
Buzz Buzz Buzz
I looked at my alarm, 7:30. It didn't wake me, as I had not slept that night, to shaken by the dreams I had had the previous night.
Buzz Buzz Buzz
I groaned and threw my alarm clock at the wall. I was no longer residing in 221B Baker Street, and I hadn't been since I faked my death. In my mind I went over the events of that day. I remember Moriarty shooting himself like it was yesterday. The loud gunshot ringing in my ears, his lifeless body lying in front of me. The events of that afternoon were the reason for my nightmares and my lack of sleep in the past 24 hours. Looking around me I took in the atmosphere, the feeling that was in the air at the flat I was staying at. I had acquired it from my somewhat older brother, Mycroft. There were piles of books everywhere, and paper scattered around the floor, some pinned to the walls, some untidily out away in folders. The smell of paint still lingered in the air as I had painted my room a few days ago. The old colour bored me, so I changed it. There was my laptop on my desk, along with my beloved skull. My old violin stood alone in the corner, next to the kitchen sink.
"Up Sherlock!"
In my daydreamt state I had failed to realise that Mycroft had walked into my room and now was standing next to the only window, opening the curtains dramatically.
"You have been in this room for the past three weeks. Get your clothes; you're coming to work with me. I have a case for you." A smirk erupted on his normally emotionless face. Which was met with a pout of mine.
"I don't want to. It's nice in here. There are no distractions, I can think."
"Think about what?" Mycroft was always the one for straight forwardness, and uncomfortable eye contact. I broke his focus and walked to the kitchen.
"I have to tell you something. Mycroft, I'm in love with John."