A/N: Hey guys, nice to see you all. Um... Like I said in my description, I lost a bet with my friend. Basically whoever lost had to write a GOOD angst/romance fic using a pairing of the other person's choice. While I know this is a Johnlock fic, I am a Sherlolly lover and my friend did this to me. Admittedly I was going to make her do an Amy/Doctor one so I deserve it. But still. Anyway, here ya go!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
It wasn't as if anyone cared. He was just the sidekick, the blogger. It wasn't as if... he cared about him more than a friend. If he had, then he wouldn't have fallen. He had been the world's only consulting detective, and John was... well, he was nothing really. He looked at the pills he held in his hand. It would be so easy to slip away... Take them all and go join him, wherever he was. The pills were pink of course. John had never really been one for metaphors, but this was the best way, he thought. To end it the way this whole misadventure had started. A study in pink. He laughed bitterly at the thought. He had been so eager then, wanting to prove himself to him. John laughed again, now choking on tears. He couldn't even think his name, even though John's note was only the name, for the most part, anyway. John started remembering more and more,filling his mind with him, thinking and remembering until... God. He had fallen, gone down. And John hadn't been able to save him. Because only someone who he liked more than a friend could've stopped him after he'd made up his mind. And John hadn't been able to save him. John looked away from the pills, staring out the window. Was that...? No. It couldn't have been. He was dead. Dead! And John would be meeting him soon. But that hat... No one else had a deerstalker that John knew of. Then the doorbell rang. What? Then he heard Mrs. Hudson gasp, then nervously laugh. he heard voices, but no distinct words, then Mrs. Hudson called,
"It's for you, John," in a trembling voice. Numb, he went downstairs, not even realizing he was still holding his note, and the pills. When he saw the face at the door though, the note fluttered to the floor. Mrs. Hudson politely excused herself, saying something about making tea.
"Sherlock?" John asked, disbelief clouding his thoughts. Sherlock simply nodded, then his eyes strayed to the pills and note on the floor.
"Why?" He asked. It was only one word, but there were so many different reasons John could have given him. He decided on the truth.
"Because I thought you were dead, and I didn't save you." There was a pause. Two. Three. The suddenly Sherlock took a step forward. Then stopped. Without really thinking, John closed the remaining distance. Then there was a pressure on his back, Sherlock's hand? - and then he was in a cloud of bliss, while, admittedly, a couple of inches off the ground. He was being lifted. And "stupid shortness." was his last coherent thought for the next few minutes.
~End of fic~
That was difficult to write. But that's what I get for losing. I would like to repeat that I'm actually a Sherlolly fangirl who was forced into this. And the fic had to be good. Um... Yeah.
~Daughterofnemesis