It's okay.

It had to be okay.

Nothing seemed right anymore, everything was lost, everything was just..different and it would certainly take time for the two men to adapt. John Watson and Sherlock Holmes weren't exactly prone to adapting and the whole thing was prooving difficult but it had happened, it couldn't be changed and nothing on this earth could prevent life from going on around the emotionally draining event. This was the cruel part, life was cruel, very cruel indeed and it certainly had jumped up and whacked them both in the face several times and although it had been several weeks since the incident the pain was still there and it would be forever. A permanant scar engraved in their hearts and minds for all enternity, until their last dying breaths. All they had now was each other, that's all they really ever had in the first place, friends came and went, some remained but now they were left a with nothing but the company of one another, some days they thrived and other days not so much, hell there had been some where they wouldn't even utter a word to each other and some where the conversation never stopped, it was very difficult to adjust around the sickening fate but they both knew that one day they would get there and everything would be back to normal. As normal as it could be for that matter.

Normal.

What kind of word was that? Their lives weren't normal to start with, infact it was far from it, it was more of a twisted rollercoaster of emotion and adventure, the emotional side being more for John than Sherlock but everything seemed to be coming to a hault, there was nothing anymore.

Nothing. Nothing!

Not as they were sitting there filled with the looming shadow of dread and sorrow, side by side, sharing almost the same connection, silently reaching out to each other in this time of need, hoping that not another word would be spoke of this when it was over, promising to never remind themselves of any of this ever again, it wasn't something that needed to be dwelled on, it was something that they couldn't possibly forget but they would try as hard as possible to accomplish never uttering a word again. Not after this. It was all prooving to much for them.

The endless pit of sorrow and dread filled their lives more so at night time when they would lie in seperate beds only a floor away from each other, staring up at the ceiling in what seemed to be a trance, recalling the events and trying their hardest to push it back, unsucessfully. Even the violin wasn't being played, not that it could, that was lost to the event too, everything had almost gone. Everything and everyone.

Mycroft had been holding an event in which Sherlock had been required to attend and naturally the detective dragged along his trusted side-kick to be by his side, little did they know that all of their other friends would be there, parties and events weren't exactly the best thing but they made the effort all the same, mainly to show off infront of government officials. Drinks were filled, music played and laughter had filled the room only to be overtaken by screams a few minutes later.

Silence.

The happiness had been engulfed by a huge fire, started by something as simple as a tealight candle, many lost their lives, few survived to tell the tale of that dreaded day a drastic and imeasurable change had been made, for the worst. 221B Baker Street was no longer in existance, the whole building and the few next to it had turned to ash and dust, becoming only a memory to people, the two men were now shacked up in a flat elsewhere, it wasn't the same, nothing was the same.

The dreaded day had come where they had to say goodbye to people, the funerals, more pain, more heartbreak. So many personalities, so many contributions into which made their lives the way they were today.

Molly, Anderson, Donovon, Mrs Hudson and several other people from the government had all perished and being paid respects too at the day of their burials, tears were shed, words were exchanged before the coffins were buried and they were all laid to rest.

Here Watson and Sherlock stood, hanging their heads as one of them cried silently over the grave of their most beloved lady, Mrs Hudson, the other stood staring at the writing on the placard. Blame filled them both, they could have done something anything more to help their friends but instead they had all burnt to a crisp and perished because of their non heroic acts, a deep breath was taken by Watson before he cleared his throat, the shake of his head and the snapping shut of his eyes symbolised his agony, Sherlock on the other hand was still dazed, sorrifully.

"Thank-you for everything. Goodbye, Mrs Hudson."

That was the final words the detective had blurted out, the coat was wrapped around himself and the path was followed to get himself out of the graveyard, the rest of the visits had been done earlier on that day, the home stretch was near, it wasn't home not really but they had a place to live at least.

"Doesn't it surprise you, he actually said thank you? I umm, I just wanted to say a few things but I think Sherlock had it covered. Thanks so much for everything, rest well."

John touched the gravestone briefly in an act of sentiment and then followed Sherlock out of the graveyard, catching upto him shortly after. Silence unsuprisingly greeted them again and stayed for the remainder of the walk home and even inside the flat. Maybe they would discuss this tomorrow but for now it was time to try and sleep. Sleep seemed like the most impossible thing in the world at that moment in time, but it didn't last for long and they found themselves sharing the sitting room, sat in the chairs as an empty quietness flooded them. Perhaps now was the time to get things out in the open and forgotten about, they couldn't go on like this, bestriends didn't live in this state, they supported each other through everything, even when it came to sickening fates such as this one. Sherlock was in the mind palace by the time John began to utter words that made no sense to him, forced and insincere were never going to work. Maybe they shouldn't begin talking about the inferno. Maybe they should just suffer in silence forever, maybe that was better than expressing emotions and making themselves seem weak. Maybe this, maybe that. One thing was for sure, they would always have each other, John and Sherlock, Sherlock and John.

It's okay, it had to be okay.