No! I refuse to believe that
Chapter one: Night
John walked though the kitchen of 221B Baker Street, out to the sitting room where he stood debating weather or not to go to bed. He knew he would not be getting any sleep tonight, he never does, but tonight especially. for tomorrow was the one year anniversary of Sherlock's death.
His best friend died a year ago tomorrow. John has not moved on but it seems like everyone else has. He didn't understand, how they just act like nothing happened. Everyone else's life has went back to nominal. Lestrade, Anderson, and Donovan still work at scenes together; Mrs. Hudson still saying that she's not his housekeeper and yet she still bring him tea and biscuits Molly still working in the morgue; Mycroft still working for the Government; But as for John, his life is miserable, everywhere he looks it reminds him of Sherlock. Thinking of Molly and Mycroft, they seem to be the less affected by Sherlock's death.
"Why? Why can't I just move one like everyone else?" John sighed. He tried, he really did. He did everything he could think of to get on with his life, but something inside of him told him that Sherlock would come back, somehow.
John looked at the clock on wall it was 2:27 a.m. and he decided it was as good as time as ever to go to bed.
he walked into his room, set his tea on the side table, and crawled into bed.
he tossed and turned all night. He woke three hours later in a sweat. He had the worst dream. he dreamt that he-John Hamish Watson -had pushed Sherlock Holmes-his best friend-off the building to his death. But instead of falling to the pavement, Sherlock fell into a recycling truck parked near the hospital. Why would he do that? Why would he try to kill his best friend? and why did Sherlock fall into the truck? Why didn't the dream end like the rest of them-Sherlock lying on the pavement in a pool of his blood and himself on his knees crying next to him while the bystanders try to pull him away.. John sat on the side of his bed, putting his head in his hands and wept. He sat there for awhile before he thought he heard the soft music from a violin coming from the sitting room.
A/N: Sorry it's short... I wrote this after a math test...funny when things pop into your head at random times... :) Review and tell me what you think!