This is a fanfiction based closely on an RP I am doing with DeadLiliez. I am John, she's Sherlock. I hope you enjoy!


It'd been six months since Sherlock jumped. I still couldn't believe it. I watched as my best friend fell to his death and I didn't do anything about it. Everyone tells me I couldn't have changed it, but a voice in my head keeps nagging me, telling me I could have.

I sat in his chair, wrapped up in one of his jackets that was far too big for me. The flat looked the same as it always has, just a bit dirtier. I got lazy and didn't feel like cleaning it. Mrs. Hudson tried to help keep it up, but even she gave up. I heard that it takes five years for the pain to truly subside. Granted, it would always be there, but five years is supposed to be the magic number or something. It's all bull. I know I'll sound like all the others who've lost someone, but I'm not sure I'll ever get over his death. Everywhere I go there's something that reminds me of him. I couldn't go to the flat for a while in the beginning. It was just too much, but about a month into it, I ached to be back at the place.

My sister even came over to help with my grieving, but it didn't help. We got into an argument the day before she left. She was yelling at me to get out of here, claiming this place was like the holy grail of Sherlock. I couldn't tell her she was wrong; that'd be lying. I haven't spoken to her since.

I shook my head, trying to rid the memories as a tear rolled down my cheek. My phone buzzed on the mantle. Sighing, I picked myself up and checked it.

It was a text from Sherlock. "I miss you – SH" it read. I stared at it. Sherlock was dead. Someone must have gotten a hold of his phone. It buzzed again. "John? – SH" I stared at the ceiling as I swallowed back tears.

"I don't know who you are or how you got ahold of his phone, but please, just stop. – JW" I responded as I headed back to the chair. A moment later, it buzzed again.

"John, it's me… It's Sherlock. I promise. – SH"

"Prove it. – JW"

"Buckingham Palace, when I wasn't wearing pants, you asked if we were here to see The Queen, then Mycroft entered, I said apparently, yes. – SH" The only other person who knew of this was Mycroft and I highly doubt he'd do this.

"Sherlock… You're not… How? – JW" They took a while to reply.

"Molly helped… John, I didn't want to leave, I had to protect Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade – his name is Greg, did you know that? More importantly, I had to protect you, John. Moriarty was going to kill you… I couldn't have lived with myself knowing I could have prevented your death and didn't. – SH" I shook my head in disbelief.

"Yes, I knew his name was Greg and why didn't you tell me this before you jumped! God, Sherlock, do you know what I've been through? I watched my best friend supposedly die! I buried you, Sherlock! Why didn't you tell me you were alive? – JW" I typed furiously. I wished he was here right now, so I could smack that stupid little face of his. I bet he's not even sorry. Knowing Sherlock, he'd do it just to see the effect he had on others or some other experiment. Hell, he experimented on me on the Baskerville case.

"You buried Moriarty. – SH"

"Wait – I'm your best friend? – SH"

"I couldn't tell you because… Because I was afraid you wouldn't have understood. I've had Mycroft keep an eye on you. You haven't been replying to his texts… I went to you after the only one you did reply to… When I saw you crying… I am so sorry, John, I am so sorry, but I had to protect you… I couldn't let you die. John, please forgive me. I had to make sure all of Moriarty's die were cut… - SH" I wanted to believe it. I wanted to think he had a reason for dying. It did sound like something Moriarty would do. Sighing, I replied.

"Yes you're my best friend! God Sherlock… I don't know if I want to strangle you or hug you right now. – JW" Then I processed what he said. "Wait – You saw me crying? When? Have you been watching me? – JW"

"Yes, I saw you crying. It was six months ago, you looked so heartbroken, and truth be told, I cried with you… Yes, I have been watching you. I walked you to work, sort of. I was behind you, making sure you didn't do anything stupid. As for the hugging or strangling, you can decide on your way downstairs… - SH"

"You're downstairs? – JW"

"Yes, now let me in. – SH"

I dropped my phone and raced to the door. I couldn't believe he was alive. This doesn't seem real. If this is a dream, I hope I never wake up. The door opened and revealed Sherlock. A smile broke out across my face.

"Hello," I said shortly. I bit my tongue to keep from shedding tears.

"Hello," he said back, softly. Tears rolled down his cheeks. I didn't know what to do. Here stood before me the man I thought dead: my best friend, my Sherlock. I wanted to hold him in my arms and never let him go, but at the same time I wanted to rip him a new one for tormenting me. I closed my eyes, trying to hold back tears that were coming down. With my eyes still closed, I held my arms open wide.

"Come here," I whispered. Slowly and carefully, he wrapped his arms around my waist. He sobbed, heart-wrenching, body convulsing sobs. It rocked me. I had to take a step back to keep upright. I'd never seen him like this before and, honestly, it was kind of scaring me. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him as close to me as I could, afraid he might disappear again. I couldn't fight the tears any longer. They poured down like a waterfall. I'd held in all the sadness inside of me, only letting it out when I couldn't handle it any more. Months of tears, sadness, anguish, and hopelessness poured out of me in that instant. I'm pretty sure his shoulder was soaked. "Welcome home, you idiot," I said, smiling though the salty drops.

"Thank you, can we please stop crying on the front stairs, please?" he asked as he pushed us inside and closed the door with his foot. As soon as it clicked close, he clung to me like I was his lifeline. His hands clawed at my back when his knees gave out beneath him.

"Can we go lie down," he asked, his eyes staring up at me, glistening from the tears. "Please?" Not trusting my voice at the moment, I nodded and helped him up, making sure to have a hand on him as we headed to the bedroom.

Once we laid down, he curled up into me. He buried his face into my chest, tears still running down. One of his hands was squeezing my jumper, the other was around my waist. I held his head to my chest and wrapped my other hand around him protectively. Burying my face in his curls, I swore to myself right then and there that I would do whatever I could to never see him in this state ever again. It was killing me. Almost all the anger I had towards him had dissipated.

"Promise you'll never do that again, okay? Promise you'll never die," I begged him, my voice muffled by his hair.

"I can't promise I'll never die, but I can promise that when I do, it won't be planned," he said through his sobs. He turned his head to nuzzle into the crook of my neck. I could feel him smiling against my skin and I, in turn, smiled as well.

"Good," I nuzzled into him, trying to get as close to him as physically possible. "Good," I whispered. He smelled like Sherlock, felt like Sherlock, sounded like Sherlock, but part of me still doubted his existence, however, I didn't care. My eyes were getting tired from crying and were pleading for sleep. I didn't want to sleep. I wanted to soak up as much time right here as I could, but I couldn't fight it for much longer. "I murph mru…" I ineligibly mumbled as I drifted off.


Thank you for reading. We'll both update around the same time, so no sneak peaks for you people!