(John's POV)
I opened the door. The address, 221b, glinted gold as the afternoon sun hit it. I brushed my fingers over it, taking a deep breath before I stepped inside.
Everything was so familiar. The wallpaper. The stairs. Even the floor reminded me of him.
Mrs. Hudson smiled at me sadly and gave me a loving hug. "It's good to have you back, dear." she said.
I nodded, attempting to return the smile.
"I'll make some tea for you."She gave my shoulder a squeeze before turning and walking to her kitchen, not waiting for my thank you.
I walked up the stairs. I could imagine him bounding up them, giddy about a new case that Lastrade had given him.
I walked into the room. Fire place, my chair, his, the sofa, the yellow smiley face grinning madly at me, bullet holes littering it's place on the wall.
Tears rose in my eyes when I saw his violin. Oh, how he would play that thing. If he was a sociopath in person, he was a human with the violin. I gave a sob-like laugh when I looked on the mantle. The skull was there, staring at me, it's empty orbits wide.
I walked into our- The kitchen. His chemistry set was still set up on the table. I brushed my finger tips over a vial. How many times had he blow up something in this flat?
Over to the fridge. I opened it and had to chocked back tears. I remembered when I had found a head in there…
Anything in? I'm starving. Oh, f- There's a head. A severed head!
Just tea for me, thanks.
A stray tear dripped from the corner of my eye. I slammed the fridge door and dashed from the room, hundreds more tears threatening to fall. My fists were clenched so tight it hurt. I sat stiffly in my chair. His was in the line of sight perfectly. I squeezed my eyes shut. Don't cry. Don't you cry.
A light knock on the door. I jumped, clearing my throat.
Mrs. Hudson walked over and set a cup of tea next to me. She again put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. "John…It's okay to cry."
And I did.