There are two kinds of being dead

by thereisnoshameinbeingcrazy

John Watson's life began in 221B Baker Street. John Watson's life ended when Sherlock Holmes's did. Written in the 221B format-two hundred and twenty-one words, the last word starting with the letter B.

There are two kinds of being dead.

John Watson is dead for just a little while, when he is shot. He is revived and he goes home to London, but he is not alive, not really. That is, until he meets Sherlock Holmes. After two curious men, two deductions, and one bullet, John Watson is alive again. He has never felt so alive before. The adrenaline from the army came close, but living with Sherlock Holmes is a whole new kind of warzone, and he is alive, because Sherlock Holmes is alive, he is vital, he is real, he is dangerous, he is brilliant, he is fantastic, and he is the epitome of life.

Sherlock Holmes is dead, that first kind of dead. His body and his mind are dead, and though the memory of Sherlock Holmes is very much alive, but that will never be enough for John Watson. John Watson has been alive, and this…this is not living. And now he does not want to live. He wants to end what is left of his life. John Watson was not been able to follow him off the edge of that roof, but he will follow his Sherlock Holmes to Hell. He will go willingly, just as always, because where Sherlock Holmes goes is where John Watson wants to be.