Just a short story on how I think the last episode should have ended. Seen through John's eyes.
I just stood there. I couldn't cry, even though the tears were so close. I couldn't think, though all my thoughts were about Sherlock. He was my friend. People said he was weird and a psychopath, but he was my best friend.
Ms. Hudson left me so I could have some time alone at the graveyard. It was quiet out there, and I felt like something was missing. Ofcourse there was. Sherlock was missing. Sherlock was gone.
I felt the lump in my throat become bigger. My breathing was fast and short and I was shaking. My head was pounding, full of all the emotions and feelings kept inside. My throat was dry and all of a sudden I realized I had been talking.
I walked towards the stone. A black stone, the letters clearly visible in white. Sherlock Holmes was what it said. My Sherlock Holmes. My mysterious Sherlock, who could solve any crime. My Sherlock, who was always one step ahead of everyone.
It seemed like ages before I reached the stone. I hesitated. My hand hung a few centimeters above the stone. It would feel cold. As cold as Sherlocks hand, when I had tried to feel whether he was still alive. There had been no pulse. No warmth. Just nothing.
I touched the stone and it was indeed cold. I felt words come up and I just let them out. I closed my eyes and sighed. It felt like there was a heavy stone inside of me. I let go of the stone and started to walk away. Letting go of that stone felt like letting go of Sherlocks hand. It felt wrong.
Suddenly I stopped. I turned around.
'There's just one more thing. One more miracle Sherlock, for me. Don't…be..' I swallowed, but the lump in my throat wouldn't let me.
'..dead.' I could barely hear my own voice. The tears behind my eyes were burning, trying to get out.
'Would you do..Just for me. Just..stop it. Stop this.' I looked at the stone again. The tears came out, like a river that'd been held back. I tried to breathe to calm down, but all my feelings came out, all at once, and I couldn't calm down.
'S-sherlock. I never..told you this.. I love you!' I buried my face in my hands and sank to my knees.
I had always loved Sherlock. From the day we met. I would never stop loving him. But I just didn't have the guts to tell him.
'I w-wish I told y-you I loved you,' I whispered.
I felt a hand on my shoulder. Probably ms. Hudson. I didn't care who it was. I knew it wouldn't be Sherlock. It wouldn't be my Sherlock.
I just kept sobbing. The tears made my vision blur when I tried to open my eyes, so I closed them again. I could barely breathe and as a doctor I knew I had to calm down, my I just couldn't.
The hand on my shoulder went to my back, rubbing circles. I heard she was talking to me, but I couldn't hear it, I just heard a muted noise.
I wanted to tell ms. Hudson I was fine, but the only word that came out of my mouth was "Sherlock". Ms. Hudson sat in front of me and grabbed my chin gently.
That's when I felt it. These hands weren't ms. Hudsons hands. These hands were pale, with long fingers that tightly grabbed my jacket.
Sherlock!
He pushed my head up a little, stared into my eyes for a second. His mysterious eyes gave away nothing but love. My heart was suddenly racing. My breathing sped up again, but this time not because I was freaking out.
This was what Sherlock did to me. If he looked at me, I'd melt away if I were ice. My dreams were always about him, and if he wouldn't get dressed, I actually didn't mind. I wanted to be with him forever.
'I love you too John,' Sherlock whispered. He wiped away my tears with his thumb.
This couldn't be real. I was drugged again, or hallucinating because of the stress.
'I am real John,' Sherlock said. My lips trembled.
'S-sherlock? How?' Suddenly he leaned forward. As soon as his lips touched mine, I felt a shiver run down my spine and my heart seemed to stop for a second. I wanted this moment to last forever. Slightly I felt him lean more into me and something slid into my mouth.
His tongue. Sherlocks tongue.
It felt perfect. It tasted perfect. It tasted just as I had imagined.
I grabbed him, but suddenly he pulled back, leaving his taste still on my lips.
'Sher-'
'Sshh,' he whispered, putting his finger against my lips. I knew what was coming, but I didn't want it. I didn't want to see Sherlock slip through my fingers once again.
'John, I have to go..for now,' Sherlock went on.
No, no no!
'Sherlock don't-'
Sherlock leaned forward again and kissed me, this time not hesitating. He rested his forehead against mine and whispered in between kisses: 'Close your eyes John. '
And so I did. I knew what would happen, but I also knew it wouldn't take long for me to meet Sherlock again. He wasn't dead. He was alive and he was mine.
He kissed me again, softly biting my lower lip as he slowly pulled away from me. I just pretended he was still there. I heard a branch snap, but I ignored it. After what had seemed ages I opened my eyes. No one was there, but I could feel him, as if he was in front of me. Sherlock would never leave me.
'John, are you coming?' I heard ms. Hudson shout. I slowly got up and walked towards ms Hudson. She frowned.
'Is something wrong? You look..different,' she said. I just smiled.
My Sherlock.