It was over a year now, this wasn't healthy anymore, it should stop. I should go back to the apartment, I knew Ms. Hudson kept it free for me. But I couldn't, al those memories, and I knew that his stuff would still be there. But I wanted to come live there again, because those memories were also the only thing that was keeping me alive now. I was afraid that if I kept living in the apartment I used to live in before I met ...him, I might forget him. Although that wasn't likely given that I was thinking about him constantly. But today was the day, I was going to 221B baker street again. I didn't have to be in there long, just to see how I would react. I was almost there now and I still didn''t know if I could do this but I at least had to try. I really wanted to move back in there, it was a nice place and I sort of missed Ms. Hudson.
There I was, in front of the door with 221b on it. I remembered al the times we had stood there together opening the door. Or the times I was there alone but then Sherlock would be inside, playing his violin or working on a case, or maybe even shooting the walls. As much as I hated those moments at that time, I missed those moment now, knowing I would never get another moment like that. I would never stand in front of this door again knowing that Sherlock would be upstairs. I wished I had known this was coming so that I would be able to appreciate the moments that Sherlock was being a complete dick. I wanted to have appreciated every moment we were together, even the annoying ones. I got back to reality, he wasn't coming back anymore, I had to face it. So here I was, standing at the door, still not able to open it. I was fighting back the tears as I got the keys out of my pocket. I stood there a moment deliberantly, wondering if I could go through with this. But I knew I had to. So I opened the door, it was still the same. I didn't want to go upstairs yet so I thought I might visit Ms. Hudson first. I knocked on her door, I hadn't seen her much since Sherlock died, but she still looked the same when she opened the door. She looked surprised when she recognized me. I was surprised she even recognized me, I knew I looked like hell. I hand't been eating or sleeping too well the last year.
"Oh Hello John, what a surprise!" she said, I could see she still wasn't over all this, she still missed him, and I saw it hurt her to look at me. Seeing me, still being devastated but she was also reminded of Sherlock every time she looked at me.
"Hello, Ms. Hudson. I thought I'd stop by sometime." I said, trying to be as cheerful as I could manage.
She let me in and made us some tea. We just sat, we didn't have much to talk about. We both hadn't experienced exciting stuff since Sherlock died, because, well he was the one to keep our lives thrilling with all the cases and villains. But it was nice having someone around who also didn't believe Sherlock was a fake. Someone who also missed him, someone who had loved him. After we finished our tea I said I was going upstairs, she looked concerned. I probably didn't look too happy when I said this.
"You know, I cleaned things up a bit. But I haven't got rid of anything without having your permission."
"Thank you" I responded.
I walked up the stairs, this wasn't easy now my limp got back, so it took me a while. When I got upstairs I waited at the door, I shouldn't put this off so long, so I just opened the door.
It still looked the same, all the memories. It was just overwhelming me.
I just stood there for a while letting the memories flood over me. When I got a hold of myself again I walked around the apartment.
The smiley was still there at the wall and the skull was still there at his usual place. I walked into the kitchen, his chemistry stuff were still there at the dining table, and the scratch of some kind of sword, I still didn't know how it got there, was also still present. As if he never left.
I got myself to go into his room, I shouldn't have done this.
It was after a while when I realized I was on the floor curled up in a little ball, crying. Ms. Hudson probably heard me crying from upstairs, because at the same time I heard some footsteps on the stairs. I didn't know if I should be happy with someone comforting me, or if I wanted to be alone right now. And to be honest I didn't care much. It was the first time I actually cried since he died, I never really was the type to cry. I saw a lot of my friends die in the war, but I never cried. I heard the footsteps enter the apartment, she shouldn't see me like this. It would make her just feel sadder. I tried to compose myself, I think I was even sitting up straight when the footsteps came towards the bedroom. I looked up when the door opened and I froze immediately, this couldn't be, this wasn't. But yet there he was, just standing there with his long coat, he still looked completely the same. His scarf, his turned-up collar and his dark curls.
I gave up hoping for this sort of thing a couple a months ago. But even when I hoped, I never really believed this would actually happen. I could see him hesitate, pondering if this had been the right thing to do. I got up "S-Sherlock..." I stammered. I could see his face soften, he had probably missed me too. I walked towards him, I could't believe it.
"Is this really you, or is this just some sick joke?" I asked.
"It is me, and I am so sorry, but it had to be done." he said.
Oh god, I thought I would never hear his voice again.
I stumbled onto my knees, he kneeled beside me.
"Why?" I managed to choke out.
"Moriarty had snipers pointed at Ms. Hudson, Lestrade and you, if I didn't jump, they would shoot" I was surprised, I never thought that someone forced him to jump. But come to think about it I never thought about why he jumped. I'd always tried to forget those final seconds, I'd always tried to remember him as he was. And the man on the rooftop hand't been the Sherlock I knew.
"But why did you wait so long to tell me, I was devastated. I even had days thinking to just do the same." I still couldn't get my head wrapped around him just sitting besides me as if nothing had happened.
"If Moriarty found out that I was still alive, it would all have been for nothing. He would get someone to shoot you, Ms. Hudson and Lestrade. I had to clear Moriarty's web and gather the evidence to restore my reputation so I could return safely." that made sense. I sighed.
"Did you really consider to just.. do the same thing?" he asked, looking concerned.
''Well, yes" I said, I felt slightly embarrassed to open up myself like this to him. To actually show him how much he meant to me, but I couldn't hide my emotions anymore. I went to a sobbing wreck again, I heard him sigh besides me.
"I'm sorry you have to see me like this." I apologized.
"I'm the one who did this to you, so I should take responisibility, shouldn't I?" he said. I got myself to sit up straight again and look at him, he still looked completely the same, as if the past year didn't happen. I wondered how much he had been affected by our separation, probably not as much as me. I was being pathetic. I hugged him, I could feel his body stiffen as a reaction to my sudden atack. I held him for a little longer before I got back to my normal position.
"Does Ms. Hudson already know?" I asked, suddenly wondering about the woman sitting downstairs.
"No" he replied, staring ahead.
"Shouldn't we go tell her?" I asked, I didn't think it was fair, me getting to talk to him, while Ms. Hudson was still downstairs, grieving over a living man.
"Yes, probably." he said, still looking distant.
"Why don't I go prepare her and bring her up, and you explain things to her." I suggested.
"Yes, you should do that." he answered.
"Sherlock, what's going on?" I asked, slightly concerned.
"Nothing, you know just..."
"No, I don't know, explain" I said, a little bit annoyed now.
"I'm just, I don't know really, just feeling a bit off. Probably the shock of coming back like this, and everything is going to be normal again. It hasn't been normal for a long time, John.". I didn't really know what he was talking about, but I got that half of the time he was talking, so I just ignored it. I walked downstairs to Ms. Hudson.
Ms. Hudson was still sitting in her chair, sipping her tea silently. "Ms. Hudson" I started, not sure how to tell her this,
"I don't really know how to tell you this, so you should probably just come up and see for yourself".
I could see her thinking what could possibly be going on, but she followed. When we were halfway up the stairs I said to her: "I should prepare you though. This is going to be quite a shock. I don't even really know what happened yet.".
She looked worried, she had every right to be, I was acting weird. But she would understand what had happened in a minute.
We walked upstairs and Sherlock was sitting in his own chair cleaning his violin bow. I looked at Ms. Hudson to see her reaction. But she didn't react at all, was she in shock?
She then looked at me asking: "What is it you wanted me to see dear?".
"Don't you see him, he is sitting right there in his chair!", I almost shouted, she couldn't not see him. She looked into to the room and rest her eyes on the chairs.
"Who is sitting there, honey?", she asked, confused.
"It is Sherlock! Why can't you see him?" I asked, I was getting a little angry now.
Why would she act like this, she should be happy.
She looked at me with the saddest look I had ever seen on someone face.
"Sweetie, he's gone, he isn't coming back anymore.".
"No, that's not true! He's sitting right there in his chair. Why are you doing this?" I said, really mad now.
"John, when was the last time you saw your psychiatrist?"