Hello there!
So this is my first attempt at writing Sherlock.
It's a very late Post-Reichenbach (I joined the fandom late), is a songfic to 'Drink A Beer' by Luke Bryan and it's friends!Johnlock.
DISCLAIMER: The characters belong to ACD with a smidge of Moffat and Gatiss making these versions. The song belongs to Luke Bryan. John's last speech is paraphrasing The Reichenbach Fall just a tad.
Anyway, I hope you like it!
When I got the news today,
I didn't know what to say,
So I just hung up the phone,
I took a walk to clear my head,
This is where the walking led,
Can't believe you're really gone,
Don't feel like going home,
It was still a blur to him, The Fall. When he thought about it it still felt like it wasn't him that saw the great Sherlock Holmes die and even on the occasions he got his head around it the memory was still fuzzy, as if he was underwater through the experience.
When the body had been whisked away and the crowd had pulled him from the bloodied pavement he just walked, not knowing where he was heading to in a haze of denial. The only thing he knew was he really didn't want to go back to Baker Street; he didn't want to tell Mrs. Hudson the news. By telling her it made it real and he wasn't ready for it to be real.
John wasn't ready to accept his best friend was dead.
So I'm gonna sit right here,
On the edge of this pier,
Watch the sunset disappear,
And drink a beer,
When he snapped back to reality he found himself on a street near London's shipping community.
He knew it well; Sherlock would come to the dock after particularly gruelling cases to unwind and recharge before the next one. It didn't take long before John would join him on these trips, buying whatever drink they fancied and drinking whilst looking out over the water and talking about whatever sprung to mind.
Without thinking he turned into the Off-License, exiting within the minute with a carrier bag before continuing the journey he knew so well. It wasn't long before he found himself sat on the dock, his legs swinging off the edge with a can of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
He never usually smoked but he felt for once the occasion called for it.
Funny how the good ones go,
Too soon, but the good Lord knows,
The reasons why, I guess,
Sometimes the greater plan,
Is kinda hard to understand,
Right now it don't make sense,
I can't make it all make sense,
Watching the coffin being lowered into the casket was incredibly tough, probably as bad as watching comrades die because this was Sherlock, his best friend. The seemingly invincible Sherlock Holmes was gone. He was dead.
Of all the people that should have gone too soon Sherlock should not have been that person. Someone like Sherlock… Despite being a _complete_ prick he was brilliant and extraordinary and amazing. He should have lived forever. Not died so young. But that was the problem with people like Sherlock Holmes, legends in their own right: they did. For reasons unknown to the doctor they did.
John didn't even attempt to hold back the tears that flooded down his cheeks as he said his final goodbye to the consulting detective, the only one there was and would ever be.
He didn't stay go to the wake and ignored Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson calling after him as he walked away.
So I'm gonna sit right here,
On the edge of this pier,
Watch the sunset disappear,
And drink a beer,
He once again made his way to the dock, picking up a case of beer and a packet of cigarettes on his way before sitting on the edge and proceeding to drink can after can, smoke cigarette after cigarette and watch as the sun slowly lowered to the horizon.
So long my friend,
Until we meet again,
I'll remember you,
And all the times that we used to…
"I guess this is goodbye, I think." He muttered after his fourth can, taking a drag of his cigarette. "It still doesn't feel like you're dead. Even seeing your coffin go into the ground it doesn't feel like it was you in there, like it was someone else. It feels like I'll see you again, I don't know when. It might even be when I die…" He chuckled hollowly, moving to hold the cigarette between his lips as he opened another can before holding it again. "But I'll see you again." He was quiet for an indeterminable amount of time, smoking and drinking and drinking and smoking before he spoke again. "I'll never forget you, Sherlock Holmes. You completely and utterly changed my life… And I'm so, so grateful to you for doing that." He took a long drag on his cigarette before tossing it into the water, watching the ripples flow from it.
Sit right here,
On the edge of this pier,
And watch the sunset disappear,
And drink a beer,
Tears welled in his eyes once more. "I believe in you, Sherlock Holmes." He sniffed. "I know what you told me was a lie. I know you're not a liar or a fraud, I know it was all you all along and no-one will convince me otherwise. And right now I need you to be Sherlock Holmes one more time and do just one more miracle…" He finished his can, tossing it into the bag with the others. "Don't be dead… Just stop it. Stop this. Please. For me." His voice cracked and he quickly dissolved into sobs, his body wracking from the force as he buried his face in his hands and mourned the loss of his best friend, the most human human being he had ever met.
Drink a beer,
Drink a beer,
Yeah.
Good? Bad? Please review!