A/N: So this is something I couldn't get out of my head. It's post-fall and from John's perspective. I wanted to try a new writing style, so I hope it worked out well. Enjoy!


"Come to me." You said, you were glowing, a white light filled the space between us. I tried to move my feet forward, but they wouldn't move. I pulled, attempting to force my feet from the ground, but I couldn't, I couldn't do it.

"I can't. Sherlock! I can't." I screamed at you, straining my voice.

"John. Please." You called, moving further away. You stretched out your hand, holding it out for me, like a life line. You were still too far, I reached, but you were so far.

"Goodbye, John." That was all you said, and then you were gone. There was nothing but darkness as the light faded with you. And then I was alone in the darkness, you left me alone. I called out to you, even though I knew you were gone.

"Please. Please, come back." I cried. You couldn't hear me, but I still tried. I tried to reach you one way or another. Why would you leave me? You were supposed to love me, that's what you had said. You told me you loved me.

My world was falling apart around me. The room was shaking, and bits were falling from the ceiling. It was caving in. I tried to brace myself against the wall or the floor, but there was nothing. I pressed my hand to the darkness but it was just air. I curled up on the floor but when I went to hold my feet to the ground, there was nothing there. How could I be sitting on air, it didn't make sense, even with my fear taking hold, I could realize something wasn't right.

"John." I heard you call for me. I could feel your hands on my shoulder but you weren't there it was just more darkness, darkness that threatened to swallow me whole. I closed my eyes, squeezing them tightly. Suddenly I could feel a weight on my chest, holing me down. I couldn't breathe. It was like someone was sitting on me, I...I...


My eyes were open, but instead of darkness surrounding me, it was you. Your arms wrapped around me. You were here. Sitting on our bed. Holding me. The sunlight, pale as it filtered in through the curtains, bounced off your face. But you were here.

"Sherlock? " I breathed, hoping this was real.

"I've got you." You whispered reassuringly, your voice wavering.

"You were gone." I said, my own voice cracking. "You left and I was alone."

"No, it was a nightmare, and it's over now." You squeezed me tightly. Holding me to your chest. I didn't move, I was still. My heart racing and my hands shaking. I still couldn't breath, my lungs were too constricted. I wanted this to be real, but I knew it wasn't. I wanted to hold onto you for as long as I could. You came less often these days but when you did you brought my world crashing to a halt. You were my drug, my drug that I couldn't get anymore and this was the withdrawal. You were my addiction, the light to my shadows. But you left me. I could feel you slipping away again.

"No! Don't! Don't leave me!" I screamed. But it didn't stop you. You still disappeared. Your weight which had once held me to the real world, was gone.


I opened my eyes, I was still in the dark. The sheets were balled in my fists, I was soaked, the sweat dripping off my skin. Your side of the bed was still empty, cold and empty. This was your fault, you left me. You told me you loved me, but you left. You lied to me, you threw me to the wolves and the hidden things of my mind. You don't do that to someone you love.

I sat up and rubbed out the wrinkles and lines that had formed on my forehead. Smoothing the skin, that had now become twisted with the forces of terror. I hate you, the man who once held my heart, I hate you. I hated your dark curls, your crystal eyes, your strong hands, everything. I hate you through and through. Though mixed with all the hate, was love that was so stong that it lingered on.

I stood up, still strung out from sleep. My legs felt heavy, hard to move, like they did in the dream, but at least now they were working, somewhat. When you jumped, with the night terrors, came the tremor, and the limp. The pain seared in my leg, it felt like someone was driving a nail into the muscle with every step. It was so strong, light flashed across my vision in stars.

The flat seemed to quite without you, not that you ever spoke much but without your sighs or mumblings, and without the sound of your bow screeching across you violin, it seemed much to silent. I have missed you every single second since you jumped. Every moment since I saw you falling, I have missed you.

Right after it happened, everyone pitied me. We never told anyone about our love, but they all knew. I got cards from your friends, Molly and made me frozen meals, and Mycroft left me to grieve. In truth, that was all I ever wanted, to be left alone. Everyone reminded me of you, whether it was the constant reminiscing or the false smiles they flashed. It wasn't their fault you jumped, but I needed someone to blame it on and I didn't want to blame you. I wanted to believe you had a reason, one worth leaving me, one worth your life, but there was never any reason worth that.

I wandered into the bathroom and turned on the tap. I brace myself against the sink as I look into the mirror, I look old, I have lines across my face, and the few strands of grey I had, have multiplied hundred fold.

Being a doctor, I know what this is. I know that this isn't just grief. I know that the shadow that clouds my mind isn't just sadness or my longing for you. This is depression. This is PTSD. This is your fault. Now I am angry. I am angry at you, you kept my demons at bay and now with one choice, you have released them, you let them suck my soul and replace it with a horrible, suffocating darkness. One that I can't get out of my head.

That's when it calls to me. The same thought that has run through my head a thousand times. Would it really be so horrible if I joined you in death? Would you be angry if you knew I wanted to be with you, even knowing the cost? Or would you be relived at knowing I would do anything for you? It would be so easy. A few of the right pills, two cuts with a sharp blade, one long piece of rope, or even just walking across the street at the right time. I could be with you so quickly. It would be as easy as making a single cup of tea. This is what you have done to me. The place you have put me in. You have shut me in a closet and locked the door. There is only one way out. With no one to miss me anymore, I would have no regrets. If this is the cost to be with you, I will gladly pay it, a thousand times over.

I have made the decision. I have decided to end it all. I go to the cupboards and grab as many pills as I can find. I take the xanax and the sleeping pills, grab the vodka too, for good measure. I throw it into my arms, cradling it like a small child, the small child that will bring my release. I sit in your chair. The old leather chair I told you to get rid of, but you wouldn't listen. I sit in it, breathe it in, it still smells of you. Or at least I think it does, maybe I just want it to. I want it to smell of black coffee and dusty old books and even of the cigarettes you weren't supposed to be smoking. I look around the room, try and take it in the way you would. But I can't, I don't have your mind. You could see everything in nothing, when I look around, all I seen is you. I once asked you not to be dead but you didn't listen, you couldn't. I know it doesn't work like that, but I wish it did.

Did you know it's been a year, to the day. One year since I watched you take your life, one year since I saw you die, unable to do anything to save you. One year. Have you missed me? Do you think about me, or are you just gone? It doesn't matter, not really. Whether there is an afterlife or not, either way I will be with you. Either in the ground or in your arms.

People will ask why I did it. They will wonder why I didn't get help, but it's because I dont need help. I know what I am about to do. I know that if I die, the pain of losing you will be gone. I won't feel it anymore. No drug could take all that pain away. There are only two ways to stop the pain having you here, with me, or dying. Option one is impossible. Option two is at least manageable. Because no matter how insufferable you were alive, you were alive, and living without you is unbearable.

Your chair feels like you. Tough and worn on the outside, but with a soft and comfortable stuffing. The chair is as inanimate as you were, never moving. It's silent, the way you could be when you were working a case. It's even warm, as If you had just been sitting here, waiting for me to join you like you so often did.

That's when I took the pills, while thinking about you, beckoning me to come and sit on your lap. Thinking about you kissing my neck, whispering that you love me. I washed them away with two large swigs of the vodka that laid in the crook of my arm. Feeling the burn as they went down my throat. Once the burn left me it was just the feeling of release, it was done. There was no going back now, it was too late. I was on my way to you. That's what I thought about as I let the darkness envelope me, welcoming it for the last time. Letting it wipe away my thoughts and pain. I waited as the weight was lifted off of me, letting me breathe for what seemed like the first time since I lost you. The shadows flew in around me, holding me in the chair.

It was as easy as I thought it would be, just a handful of pills with a strong drink. Overdose, that's what my cause of death will be, no mystery. That's how I thought you would go, either accidentally or on purpose, I never thought you would jump, not in million years.

The last thing I said was, I love you. That was all, short, simple, and classic last words. And then I was gone, my eyes fluttered close for the last time. That was all there was to it, it didn't hurt, it was like falling asleep, because really that was what I was doing. Just like you, with out so much as a goodbye.


A/N: Hey! Please review! I don't know if I will continue this, but if you guys like it I might. If you did enjoy it, either review or pop me a message! Thanks again.