Chapter 1: A Beginning
Sherlock has been gone for two years, and I stood there to grieve. Our days before the fall was amazing and perfect. I watched him play the violin, deducing me everyday, we also played Cluedo almost everyday when we have no plans nor cases to solve. But now that he's dead, I cannot live a happy life.
"Oh John. I know how you feel. Life goes on still, so move on." Mrs Hudson patted me and gave me a plate of cookies. I sighed, "It is not life goes on now… It is our great detective dead." "Yes I know John, I know you are upset.. But we all have to move on. It's just you have to understand all the facts." Mrs Hudson told me with a sad face. I stood up, and headed to the door. "Where are you going John?" "I… I.. umm. I am going to Sherlock's grave." I finally mumbled it out. "Okay.."
Reaching the graveyard, I saw Sherlock's tombstone with tons of flowers placed on the dirt. I placed mine on the grave, and spoke to the tombstone. "If you are there, please listen to me Sherlock. I.. I am sorry for leaving you alone in the lab because Mrs Hudson got injured, but I thought it was true that she was injured, but it wasn't. Someone must have put an act to fool me, but please Sherlock.. I don't want you to be dead. You are the best friend I would like to acknowledge you more than anyone and even my sister 'Harry'…"
"You are the best and wisest man I ever known."
I must say that I will suffer from depression because Sherlock is the only kin that I will see everyday. I walked back to 221B, and saw Sherlock standing there. "… Sher..lock..?!" "John.. I suppose, I owe you.. Some.. sort.. of.. apology." He uttered slowly. "Hm? No you… don't.." "Yes.. But now I returned with a bad news to share.."
"What is the bad news, Sherlock?" I looked at his fearful eyes. "I.. have, cancer.." He uttered an unthinkable word, 'cancer'. I stared at him.. "I… I am sorry John.." I stood there, looking at him. I don't think he has cancer, and he would not have cancer because he is strong and would never get sick on a daily basis. But this 'cancer' is incurable, even though if I bring him for chemotherapy it wouldn't work because cancer cells can grow anywhere. But I just can't watch Sherlock die and grieve again. "John.. I.. will cherish the last few months with you.." He uttered.
We entered our living room, and I asked him any questions that I have for him, even the ones that how can he survive on the fall when he fall without any cushion or etc. Sherlock explained slowly, and I listened, almost drifting to a daydream, but I am not satisfied with Sherlock's 'faking to death' methods. But despite that, I am still glad that he is alive and back to my side.
Chapter 2: Cancer Cells and Chemotherapy
Sherlock has lost much hair and I got worried. Fearing that he will die because cancer cells will spread quick, I brought him to the doctor, and the doctor advised him for chemotherapy. I decided to give it a shot, so he went for chemotherapy once a week, and the doctor said the cancer cells will still continue to grow, but chemotherapy helps to delay the process of dying. I heaved a sigh of relief and we headed home. "John, I don't want to die." Sherlock turned and told me. "I know, Sherlock. Everyone dies. But chemotherapy delays the process." He turned back to look outside the taxi's window, and sighed. "Why must everyone die? It is so boring to see anyone die." He is still the usual Sherlock. Complaining that everything is 'boring' or 'dull'. "Sherlock, when we return home, we shall play Cluedo, alright?" I answered. He snores in reply. Heh, all this while I thought he never sleeps, but he sleeps on the taxi now.
When we reached home, I carried him to his bedroom and closed the door slowly. "John… Don't leave me alone." Sherlock stretches his weak hand. I walked into his bedroom and sits by his side, "Sherlock, no one is leaving you alone. I am just heading to the bathroom to use the loo. Do you mind if I use yours?" I told him. "Mm, yes. Just don't take so long." He replied with a smirk.
After I finished using the loo, I went out of the bathroom and saw Sherlock smiling at me. He looks pretty happy, so I smiled at him back. I sat at his bed, and patted his back. "John, if you could be more gentler." I laughed at his nonsense and massaged him a little bit. "John, how nice. Remember the last time you were sick and I was panicking on what to do?" He laughed. "Yes! That was the worse treatment you gave me, but still you cured me!" I laughed again. This is the first time I saw Sherlock laughing so happily. "Sherlock, it's time to sleep anyways, I will sleep with you for today." I told him. He nodded and snuggled his body under the blanket. He hugged me tightly, and few minutes later, he snored and I chuckled a bit. I slowly placed my hands on his back, and slept.
Chapter 3: Sherlock gets lethargic more often, No more chemotherapy.
Few months later I saw Sherlock always yawning at crime scenes, and sometimes he would even collapse without me knowing and when I return to the crime scene, I will always be shocked. The doctor said that he cannot take anymore chemotherapy, and sadly this will restart the growth of cancer cells. Sherlock's hair has decreased tremendously and I am scared that he might be in his second or third stage of cancer. He usually returns home and hops to bed, and in a second or two, he will be snoring away, just like a soundly asleep person. I would not sleep so early because I usually get contacts from Mary about our baby in Mary's stomach, and she would tell me if the baby kicked or etc, and I will just be happy after a day's horror from Sherlock's cancer. And then 'Harry' will tell me all the bad things she did and then she makes me sad again.
Sherlock can stay up till very late before the cancer and before the fall. But despite the cancer, I am still glad he is still alive and staying with me in 221B Baker Street. Mrs Hudson will sometimes come and comfort me when I am feeling sad.
Chapter 4: The End
Two months later, Sherlock is bald, and he sleeps every hour he is back. He doesn't wake up when I shake him. It looks like he is leaving me very soon and I am starting to grieve. I feel the sorrow down my heart, feeling the pain in my throat, making me very hard to swallow every truth that I will hear from Sherlock.
I must know that, he is going to die soon. But I cannot suffer such a blow like this…
One month later, Sherlock sleeps. I tried to wake up, but he is not waking up. I felt his pulse. He isn't breathing. This isn't true. He can't be dead. He can't BE DEAD! I immediately broke down into a mountain of tears.
I'm sorry.. Sherlock.. I wished I have not left you alone in your bed.