So this is a Johnlock...it's kinda bad...and I guess this could be triggering? but I don't really know...feel free to comment and criticize...and yes they ae a little ooc but a lot of stories are so yeah...here ya go
*John's Pov*
This is it. I'm doing it.
I don't know how long it's been since he jumped, but whether it has been days, months, or years, I still miss him terribly. Right now, standing in the same spot Sherlock stood in his final moments, I am thinking about what life would have been like if he was still here. Maybe I would have told him I loved him. Maybe he would have loved me back, even though he seems incapable to love. Maybe we would have been happy together. I sighed. Just maybe. There is a crowd gathering down below, confused as to what is happening. Well at least the letter in my pocket will explain to them that I loved, and still do love, Sherlock. It will let them know that standing where he stood, and jumping where he jumped, made me feel closer to him. That I'm doing this so that we can finally be together. Maybe this means that I'm crazy, or maybe it means I'm completely sane.
Looking down, I see the police, Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, and Mycroft within the crowd. I offer them a smile, yet they offer me tears. Can they not see that this will make me happy? That being with Sherlock will make me happy? Donovan was right, well, kind of. Sherlock will be the reason that there are not one, but two bodies on the ground. Now back to business. I need to stop thinking, and just do it already. I close my eyes and spread my arms, mentally preparing myself for this. Behind me, there was a loud bang, but I didn't pay much mind to it. I took a deep breath, about to lean forward, when suddenly two large, muscular arms wrapped around me from behind. I was about to kick and scream, but then I could smell it...a very familiar smell. A Sherlock smell. Before I could stop myself, I wrenched myself out of his grip only to turn around and tackle him with a vice-like one of my own. He froze before hugging me back just as tight, the action making me sob and manage to get out a weak "'Lock."
"Shh John, it's okay. I'm here now. You'll be fine." Sherlock mumbled while stroking my head softly.
No matter how hard I tried I could not get myself to stop crying, the reality of what I almost did finally getting to me. My only reaction was to squeeze Sherlock tighter while sobbing loudly. We stood like that for quite some time, me crying hysterically while being attached to him, and him murmuring words of comfort while softly stroking my back. The police finally realized that they could get to the roof, only to see me with the wonderfully amazing, and thought to be dead, Sherlock Holmes. To say that they were shocked would be an understatement. Poor Lestrade looked like he was about to faint. When I was focused on the new arrivals, I didn't realize that Sherlock had sat down, situating me on his lap when he did so. When he finally noticed the police force, the way he reacted almost had me afraid as well.
With a glare towards them, Sherlock all but growled "Fuck. Off." with his grip on me tightening.
They were quick to acknowledge his 'request' and left, still shocked that he was alive. After they were gone, I noticed that my shoulder was quickly becoming damp. Looking over, I now realize that it's Sherlock.
"Sherlock?" I ask in a slightly wavering voice, the effect of me still crying softly.
When he looked up, I swear I could feel my heart breaking. His enchanting blue eyes red, the skin around them pink and puffy.
"I could have lost you John."
"But you didn't."
"If I were any later you would have been gone John. Gone!"
"But you weren't, I'm still here."
We just sat there in silence, even when it started to drizzle.
"John?"
"Sherlock?"
"I-I-I love you."
"Do you really mean that?"
"Yes, John."
"I love you too, Lock." I say back quietly.
He looked up from the ground, startled at my response, making me doubt whether or not he actually meant it. All of my doubts were gone, though, when he gave me a huge smile. I tried to say something else, but he leaned down and kissed me. Overcoming my brief shock, I kissed him back just as enthusiastically. When Sherlock pulled away, he stood up, offering me a hand.
"John, let's go back to Baker's Street." And so we did, hand in hand, until we got home. Our home, where we both belong.
So hi! I promised my friend I would post this and it's a little late(this was back in November and it's almost January...whoops) so here. This kinda sucks and I kept getting distracted so this could be better but oh well...Happy New Year!
so after posting this the first time I realized that I had left out something close to a paragraph so I fixed it and the spacing so yeah...bye
