John was sitting outside in the grass when his phone rang. He assumed it was his mother and answered with a sigh. "Hello?"
"John Watson,"said a familiar voice on the other end.
John's heart jumped to his throat. "Sherlock. Oh my God..." He laughed softly and closed his eyes. "My God..."
"How are things over there?"
John fell back in the grass and looked up at the stars, ignoring Sherlock's question. He took slow breaths, each one burning his throat.
"John? Are you alright?"
He tried to blink back his tears and keep his voice steady as he shook his head. "No..."
"Tell me what's wrong."
"I don't know. It's just... Everything, I guess."
"Is there anything I can do?"
"No."
Sherlock sighed. "I am sorry. I wish I could fix this."
"I miss you..." John whispered.
Sherlock gave a faint "hmm" in response and John spoke again.
"There was a boy I knew once. He had dark, curly hair and bright blue eyes. He was so clever. He could look at you and tell you your whole life story. Everyone hated him." Tears slid down John's cheeks as he struggled to control his voice. "Except me. I thought he was the greatest person in the world. The bravest, the kindest, the wisest. He was truly amazing."
Sherlock had stayed silent and John's wavering voice came back through the phone.
"Do you think he could have loved me?"
Sherlock shook his head. "I don't know."