I Said He's With Me
John couldn't move he couldn't breathe. He knew Sherlock got bored, but he never thought it would come this far. He had never dreamed that…that Sherlock…would do…this. The pills sat on the table, half empty. Sherlock was still breathing, but it wouldn't last long. John's world began to deteriorate, Sherlock was his best friend, his brother. He was alone again, this time forever, Sherlock wasn't coming back, not this time. John was hugging Sherlock's limp body, not knowing how he got there, word tumbling out of his mouth, begging him for it to not be true. All he knew was that his best friend was dying, without him, leaving him. John had always assumed he would spend the rest of his life chasing criminals with his colleague, his friend. How could he do this? How could he leave him like this? John looked at the pills on the table, and swallowed the other half. And that's how he died, holding his best friend's hand, together to the last of their days.