Authors Note:
xxxxXXXXX Well, hello there, I'm new and just getting the hang of all this so please tell me what you think. XXXXXxxxx
You never really fully understand how much a person can change your life until its over. The comprehending thought that maybe, just maybe that person is a piece of you. They say in your final moments apart of you drifts off to find what is most important to ones life. So I drifted. I waited. Until he found me.
He was startled in the night. Something or someone had touched his shoulder. But at the time he dreamt of John. Sherlock's body was frozen.
Sprawled out across the bed as if he'd fallen from the sky and landed there. He slowly raised his head and scanned the room. It was the early
morning hours of course he thought to himself. Slowly and heavily he rose his body from the bed to stand. The hardwood flooring was cool and it ran
up his legs into his spine. He shivered and reached for his house coat hanging at the end of his bed post. He headed into the living room figuring
that John would be there ready to talk about the argument they just had a couple of hours ago. To Sherlock's surprise, John wasn't there. He
checked his bedroom. Empty. He deducted that John was overly angry this time and wanted a little more space than usual. He started the fireplace
and meditated as he would normal do. Unfortunately his chest felt extremely tight and he found it a little difficult to breath. Why was he so stressed?
He never stressed over anything unless it was a case. He paced the room for a couple of hours. When he regained the realm of reality around him
the morning light shined through the windows. His heart sank. For something about this morning was cold and grey. The life was taken out of such a
quiet dawn. But it was too quiet. Too too quiet. Not a chirp from the birds nor the sound of a sigh. For so rarely did he feel this emotion he stood in
the middle of the living room alone. He was scared.