A/N- Just angst… I keep re-watching Reichenbach, then hating myself for sobbing the entire time, then just pouring it all out into a little oneshot. Here you go.
"I mean… I know that it was hard for you, but you used to never give up. Remember that?" John had been standing like a regular person, but now he was kneeling by the shiny black gravestone. "Anderson feels bad about it, you know. And he has a beard now! Can you believe that?"
John's therapist had told him to forget Sherlock. John found that impossible.
"Would you forgive him? Probably not, he's an idiot, Anderson." John laughed. "How many times did I get to hold your hand? I've forgotten. Did I ever tell you how safe it made me feel? How, I don't know, how gorgeous your cheekbones really are? I know I said they were stupid. Sorry.
"Remember when we first met? Yeah, the crazy cabbie bloke and all. Moriarty's really dead now, huh. You died really valiantly, saving all our lives. My life. My life was black and white before you, you know." John glanced up at the darkening sky. "Goodbye, Sherlock."
With that farewell, the army doctor slowly made his way out of the little cemetery, determined to walk despite the distance, despite the fact that his limp had returned after Sherlock fell, despite the rain.
And as John Watson looked up at the dark clouds enveloping the sky, he wondered anyone else could ever light up his life like Sherlock Holmes.