Chapter One:
The Memoirs of John Watson
Sherlock's death had been more significant to my life than I ever thought possible. No longer could I get up without a deep pain in my chest, an empty feeling in my mind, without thinking of the slightly awkward consulting detective.
For seven long months I simply blocked out the world. I couldn't go back to the flat for over two months. When I finally opened that door and walked in, sure enough, Mrs. Hudson had greeted me with open arms. She allowed me to stay despite having been gone so long.
I started to pay rent for the flat again, which was immensely more comfortable than any hotel room, and moved back in in the sense of bringing back a small bag of clothing. During the nights, though, I would wake up in a cold sweat from a night terror. Sherlock's body going over the side of the roof, on the ground covered in blood, his grave.
One day after a rather strong reaction to the night terror, I had gone to the kitchen to fetch myself a cup of tea to soothe my nerves. As I sat in the chair facing the telly it seemed as if something was calling me. I had turned my head and spotted the way to Sherlock's room.
As if possessed by some other worldly force, I stood slowly and found my way into the genius' bedroom. I could feel the warmth of tears on my cheeks but took care to ignore them. In a matter of seconds I had dived under the covers and buried my head into one of the pillows. The scent of my old friend was still strong on his things. Surprisingly, it calmed my nerves and I fell asleep in his bed.
Everyday after that I would find my way into Sherlock's room and wander aimlessly for a few minutes before settling under the covers to dive into my dreams, Sherlock's smell enveloping me in a veil.
This continued until seven months had passed since my friend's death. That day had been the change I had been looking for, irrevocably starting a change of events that has led me to the situation in which I currently am in. It all started on a dull grey day, clouds heavy with rain, but none falling.
"John dear do you need anything from Tesco's? I'm going now." Mrs. Hudson's small frame peeked around the corner of the door.
"Nothing, thank you Mrs. Hudson." She nodded and disappeared. When the downstairs door closed with a click I turned to face the telly. With a defeated sigh, I turn off the television and wander back to Sherlock's room. Carefully, I pull up the sheets and slide under them.
Eyes closed, I reach my hand out and smile weakly when the familiar weight and feel of Sherlock's coat is back. I inhale deeply with my nose buried in the collar. The collar that once held a long neck that always seemed to be hidden with that blue scarf. That blue scarf that he seemed to only take off for me. Yes only for - John - me and no one else because Sherlock only trusted - John - me. Only smiled around me. John.
"John dear wake up, someone's here to see you." I roll over weakly and wait for my vision to focus on Mrs. Hudson's small form, "It's your friend from Scotland Yard."
"Yes, thank you Mrs. Hudson. I'll be out in a second." Mrs. Hudson nods and exits the room. I can hear her voice from down the hall followed by a deeper one. Growling, I stand and leave the room as well, socked feet shuffling over the linoleum.
"Ah, John! Just the man I wanted to see." I rub a tired eye and glare at Lestrade. He holds his hat against his chest stiffly. He takes a small step forward looking down. "I uh, I came here to give you my grievances." Lestrade coughs quietly.
"To give me your- No, NO! Get out right now! Sod this, just sod this. It has been seven months! Do you really think I could give any care for your grievances? No. GET. OUT. NOW!" Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson both seem startled at my out burst.
"John, I'm sorry I didn't mean anything by-"
"No of course not. You couldn't believe Sherlock. You had to chase him off, to run. You soiled his name. And for all he's done for you." I step forward and jam my finger into Lestrade's chest," I had to watch him jump from that roof and die!" Tears stream freely from my eyes and down my chin. My bottom lip trembles, my whole body beginning to shake and go into lock down. "I...I, I couldn't save him. H-he died and I c-couldn't save him. I-it's all my fault he's d-dead and, and Sherlock is dead and he's, he's." I fall to my knees shaking.
I barely register hands going around me and patting my back. Words are murmured in my ears, my head is pulled to a chest.
"I-I'm sorry I c-couldn't save you Sherlock...I'm so s-sorry..."
"Shh, it's okay John sweetie. It wasn't your fault okay. Just breath." Mrs. Hudson coos warmly. I wipe my eyes on the back of my hand and take in a large breath. "Good, good. If you could take your leave now inspector." I hear a mumbled yes ma'am followed by heavy footsteps down the stairs and out the front door.
"I'm sorry Mrs. Hudson, I don't know what came over me." Mrs. Hudson pats my back a few more times before getting up and going to the kitchen.
"Some tea should help dear." I nod, silently noting how her voice sounds hollow. A very unwelcomed, cold feeling flows over me. Sitting in Sherlock's chair I pull my knees up. It's much simpler now that I have lost most of my body mass. I no longer have the muscles or stamina from before, only an empty husk of my former self.
"Here you go darling," Mrs. Hudson hands me a hot cup of tea, "Um, John. How about you go out tonight to get some fresh air. I'm sure it'll do you good. You've been cooped up in this flat for an eternity now." I blow air over my tea nodding absently.
"Yeah, you know what, that's a great idea! I'll get ready now. Maybe if I'm lucky I can stop and grab a bite somewhere." Mrs. Hudson smiles brightly at me. I stand up quickly and make my way upstairs to get some clothing. When I come back down Mrs. Hudson is no where to be seen. I shrug it off and make my way to the bathroom to shower and shave.
When I'm finished I feel refreshed like I haven't felt for ages. I dress in dark trousers, a white button up, and a beige jumper. Taking a deep breath, I grab my jacket and exit the flat. Outside the air is crisp with a few flakes of snow.
I smile grimly and make my way down the bustling side walk. I'd nearly forgotten it was Christmas time. All of the stores are lit up with bright lights and wondrous toys and contraptions.
Memories of the last Christmas roll in waves through my mind, a frown etching deeper onto my face. That Christmas Sherlock's focus had mainly been on Irene Adler. I despised her with a passion I could only liken with relative hate. My eyes flick to a small shop with bright pictures painted on the windows. It looked as good as any so I enter.
Upon entering a vanilla and nutmeg aroma swim around me. I allow a small smile to cross my features as I walk forward to the glass counter filled with many assortments of chocolates and goods.
"Hello can I get you anything today?" The young woman behind the counter asks, flipping brown bangs from her eyes.
"Uh yes, could I get," my eyes quickly scan the menu board, "a pumpkin spice latte and small glass of eggnog?"
"Of course coming up right away." I pass the money over the counter and take a seat looking out of the large windows. Seemingly my last train of thought comes crashing back into the station.
Irene Adler. Of course she was a beautiful woman. The first time I met her she had astounded me. But then she started to take Sherlock. And then there was the meeting at the warehouse. Despite knowing she had feelings for Sherlock she had still called us a couple. It was admittedly, a very confusing moment.
"Here you go sir, have a great evening!" I smile as the brunette walks away, the smell of my coffee wafting into my nose.
"John? Is that you?" I look up from my coffee as a familiar face settles across from me.
"Sarah?" Sarah smiles at me, setting a couple of bags on the ground beside her.
"John, I haven't seen you in ages! How have you been?" Sarah's eyes soften as she leans her head on her hand.
"Oh I've been fine, how about you?" Sarah feigns curiosity, but brightens.
"Wonderful! I was just getting presents for family and friends. But," Sarah's hands clasp together on the top of the table, "it's been kind of difficult lately at the clinic." She sighs and inspects her nails silently for a moment. "I've been getting more and more patients needing counseling and it's starting to wear me thin."
I perk up slightly at this statement and try to read her expression.
"We've been looking for someone to come in and help but so far no one has shown up for the job." Sarah looks back to me, a small smile on her features.
"Is this a job offer?" I smile. She smiles back and nods.
"Only if you'd be willing to do it." Sarah runs a hand through her hair and stands. "Well, if you're interested come by tomorrow at ten. It was good seeing you again John." She grabs her bags and pats me on the shoulder before leaving. I smile again, sipping my coffee. Maybe things are starting to look up for me.
I pick up my coffee and leave the small shop. Outside it has darkened considerably. In a better mood I wander around for a while longer, stopping at a shop to get a small present for Mrs. Hudson and to buy some Christmas decorations.
"Mrs. Hudson? I've bought some Christmas decorations." I take the stairs two at a time and step inside the flat.
"Oh John! I knew some fresh air would do you good. I've got cookies in the oven right now." I stride up to my landlady and pick her up, twirling her around. "Oh my, John what's gotten into you?" We laugh for a moment in the warm living room.
"Sarah offered me a job at the clinic! Isn't that fantastic?" Mrs. Hudson claps and hugs me with surprising strength.
"Oh, I knew someday you'd come back." I get a sad smile in return. "You said you bought decorations?"
"Yes. I got a few boxes of lights, some ornaments, wrapping paper, etcetera etcetera." I take the paper bag and set it on the table in the living room, pulling out box after box of Christmas items. I leave Mrs. Hudson's gift in the bottom of the bag.
"Splendid! I've got a tree downstairs, do you want to get it?" I smile and allow Mrs. Hudson to lead me downstairs to get the tree. When we get it upstairs and set up I beam at the tall plant.
"I know it's not the real thing but I've had this tree for a very long time. Decorations?"
"It's wonderful Mrs. Hudson. Here, we can put the red and green lights on the tree and the colorful ones on the walls and windows."
Half an hour, a cup of hot chocolate, and a few cookies later we have the whole flat covered in decorations.
"Oh this is so nice John. Merry Christmas." I chuckle at my landlady's sentiment and give her a small hug.
"Merry Christmas Mrs. Hudson." After Mrs. Hudson had left and said good night I found my way back to Sherlock's room. I let exhaustion take me full force as I climb under the sheets.
"Merry Christmas Sherlock..." Sleep takes me quickly into it's firm grasp.
I wake up to an annoyingly loud alarm and turn to turn it off. Groaning I sit up, sheets tangled over my torso. On the floor my phone continues to sound the alarm I had set yesterday. Annoyed, I pick it up and turn off the alarm. 9: 32 AM. I sigh and get up, joints cracking loudly.
The kitchen still smells of the baked goods from last evening. I grab one of the cookies and grab out the bread popping it into the toaster. After I finish my quick meal I dress and leave the flat, flagging down a cab.
The ride is relatively short to the clinic. I'm soothed by the familiar smell of medicine and atmosphere as I step into the clinic.
"John! I wasn't sure you were going to make it." I smile and take Sarah's outstretched hand as she rushes towards me.
"I wouldn't miss this for the world." Sarah lets out a small sigh and nods for me to follow her. We get onto the lift and go up to the second floor.
"Okay, since I already have a file and check on you really all I'm going to do is have you do a day and see if you like it." I nod and follow as she leads me down the hallway to a wooden door. "Here we are. If you like the job this will be your office." Sarah unlocks the door and pushes it open.
Inside is spacious, bookshelves covering every wall except the one across from us which is covered in large windows. In front of the windows is a large oak desk with a black swivel chair behind it. To the left a couch for patients sits against the bookshelf, a comfortable looking chair across from it with the back to the desk.
"Wow this is...a great room." Sarah smiles as I run my fingers along the continuous bookshelf.
"I already have someone on the way to give it a small cleaning while I go fetch a patient list. I'll be back in a sec." I watch Sarah leave before going to the desk. Behind it a small refrigerator most likely for solutions used to sedate patients. I turn and push the curtains back a little more to allow more light in.
"Hello, I'm here to clean up really quickly." A woman with olive colored skin and a cascade of ringlets covering her head walks in with cleaning supplies.
"Oh um, okay I'll uh just get out of your way." I smile and stand in the center of the room.
"Okay I've got the papers. Actually I've got two but," Sarah walks in with a stack of folders and two sheets of paper. She gives me a hard look and hands me the first sheet. "That is of some patients I could give you, relatively friendly, just need weekly counseling."
"What's the other?" I scan over the paper a few times.
"One patient." I raise an eyebrow and look to see Sarah's eyebrows furrowed together, "He's probably my most stressful patient. Normally I would never give someone a patient like this but I know you and I think you could handle him." She hands me the second sheet of paper, only one name on it.
"Et-uh-monce Oliver?" Sarah chuckles and shakes her head.
"Ete-moncé Olli-vere. He has multiple personalities." I gladly take the manila folder and open it to a picture of a ginger. "He's 29, 6'2, has a history of abuse, is French, has had violent break downs. So, " Sarah lets out a large gust of air, "which would you prefer?" We hold each other's gaze for a few seconds. Sarah smiles. "Well Dr. Watson, I wish you luck." With that Sarah turned on her heel and left.
"I've swept down most of the surfaces so there's not nearly as much dust. But I will come in tonight once you are done and finish up. Have a good day doctor." I give a small wave to the girl and plop down into the swivel chair. The smell of lemon cleaner is strong in the air as I flip open the folder again and take in as much information as possible.
I jump when a knock comes from the door. My eyes shoot up to meet bright green ones.
"You must be Dr. Watson." A deep, reverberating voice comes from the lean, and very tall, ginger. I stand up and take his hand.
"And you must be E'temoncé Olivér. You can have a seat on the couch." I smile and show him to the corner of the room. I pull out my notepad and a pen, opening them at the ready.
"Moncé is fine." Moncé smiles at me. My eyes scan him quickly. Bright green eyes, looks to have curly hair under the green beanie, multitudes of freckles on nose and cheeks, slight accent, thin lips, lean, possible runner.
"Okay Moncé," I give a quick smile, " can you tell me a little about yourself? Do you go to school, hobbies, girlfriend?" The ginger lies back and stares at the ceiling, smile ever present.
"Just finished my last semester of school, I like to write, and no, no girlfriend. They're not really my area." I jot down notes and look at him.
"Oh, oh. Do you have a boyfriend?" Green eyes find their way to my direction.
"No I haven't really found the right guy. Besides, I'm kind of married to my work." My heart skips a beat. A memory of the first time I met Sherlock.
"Then what do real people have then, in their real lives." Blue green eyes continue looking out of the window to the street, only momentarily passing over to me.
"Friends," I nod, " people they know, people they like, people they don't like..." I take a breath in through my nose, "girlfriends, boyfriends."
"As I was saying dull."
"You don't have a girlfriend then." I tried as best as possible to seem nonchalant to the man who seemed to read people like the newspaper.
"Girlfriend, no not really my area."
"Oh right." I look down quickly processing the information. "Do you have a boyfriend?" Inside I panic as the blue green eyes move to look at me. "Which is fine by the way."
"I know it's fine." We watch each other.
"So you've got a boyfriend?"
"No."
"Right, okay." I chuckle quietly, those same eyes watching me carefully, calculating. "You're unattached, just like me." I look back to my food, a growing nervousness in my stomach. "Fine," I clear my throat, "good." A few moments pass in silence.
"John, um, I think you should know that I consider myself married to my work, while I'm flattered of your interest I'm not looking for any-"
"No. No, no. I'm not asking, no...no. I'm just saying. It's all fine."
"Good."
I blink a few times, trying to clear my head.
"So, I was told you have split personalities. Care to introduce me to some of them?" Moncé smiles and stretches out his legs.
"Well there's me, I'm the original. Nia, the seductress. She likes to try and get into people's pants. Unfortunately she's the one who comes out most." I quickly scribble down the name Nia and make a bulleted list.
"Others?"
"Yeah. There's Reggy." Moncé's eyebrows furrow. "He's violent. Rarely comes out. Everyone pitches in to hold him. Except..." The ginger sighs, "Reggy isn't the worst of my personalitites. That one would be reserved for him." I stop and look at Moncé confused.
"Him? Who's him?"
"Someone who's deadly. Someone who has killed." I suck in a breath, leaning forward.
"Who is it Moncé?" His green eyes turn towards me slowly.
"We call him Zero." I notice the vibrant green eyes begin to gain a far away look. "Even Reggy tries to help make sure he doesn't come out. He almost killed me a few times. Has killed others." I jot down notes so fast my whole arm starts going numb.
"Well...other than that there's Liam. He's kind of depressing. I think something may have happened when I was younger. Liam has hinted but he never says anything. Sometimes he cuts me but I know he doesn't mean any harm...those are all I know of." I nod and finish writing my notes.
"So, about how often do the personality switches occur?" I look up.
"When ever. Like right now, I'm sure Nia's going to come out to say hello. I can hear her loudly. So you might want to be..." Moncé sits up slowly, blinking a few times, eyes lowering and mouth stretching into a smirk.
"Hello. You must be Dr. Watson." I barely hide my surprise. Moncé's voice has risen a few octaves, sounding very feminine.
"You must be Nia." Nia crosses her legs and scoots forward.
"Very good doctor, very good." Moncé, well Nia, stands and bends over my chair. "You're very handsome Dr. Watson, maybe sometime you and I can go get a drink." Nia grabs my notebook and takes my pen, scribbling something down. "I have to go now but I'll talk to you again soon doctor." Nia straightens, blinking a few times.
"Nia?" I nod.
"She, um, gave me a number..." Moncé takes my notebook and studies the numbers.
"God she can't ever remember. It's 592, not 529." The ginger scribbles the number beneath the other. I stare for a moment.
"You're right handed. Nia, she's-"
"Left handed yes. Most of my other personalities are left handed." He hands back the notepad and pen.
"Your writing styles are also different. Nia's is dark and curved. Yours is almost like chicken scratch. Light and rapid." I allow the information to sink in for a moment. I look at my watch and stand.
"Well, it looks like our time is up. I'll uh, see you tomorrow then?"
"Yeah, I'll see you later doctor." Moncé smiles at me before taking his leave. I watch his long strides as he exits the room. Slowly I make my way back to the desk and sink into the leather. So much about this guy reminds me of Sherlock. No. I can't, I can't keep dwelling on the past. It's not helping me and it's not helping anyone else.
Those thoughts run through my head in rapid succession. I sigh. I'd never be able to forget Sherlock. But maybe, a voice in the back of my mind said, someone else can help fill that void. I look at the number in my notebook and run a tired hand over my eyes.
"Everything alright John? He wasn't too much was he?" Sarah's calm voice calls from the door.
"Oh yes, everything's good. I'll gladly take the job." I smile up at Sarah, who looks relieved.
"Well that's good. Would you, would you like to go grab something to eat?" I nod happily and follow Sarah out. We eat at a small diner and catch up.
"So you're dating again?"
"Yeah. His name is Trevor. He's really sweet." Sarah's eyes drop and she smiles. "He proposed." My eyes widen.
"Congratulations! That's wonderful." Sarah grins at me and takes a sip of her coke.
"So, what about you? Any new hot thing chasing after you?" I stay quiet.
"No...um, but your proposal that's great! Terrific..." Sarah frowns.
"John. Hey John, look at me." I look up, Sarah's eyes are full of understanding, "You know he wouldn't have wanted you to grieve him for so long."
"I-I know Sarah its just...I can't move away from him. Now that he's gone...I just, feel like I have no purpose anymore. Like there's a giant hole in my chest that nothing can fill." Sarah grabs my hands tightly in hers.
"You know John, I think I've only ever heard that from a few people, one being my mom when my father died." She takes a deep breath and picks up our hands, "I know you must have loved him a lot but someday you will have to move on. If not for you for him." I'm too tired to say we weren't a couple and that I don't love him. I just allow her to scoot her chair next to mine and rub my back.
After our feelings fest I say good bye and head back to the flat. Mrs. Hudson is setting presents under the tree singing along to the telly.
"Ah, John just in time for dinner!"
"It's okay Mrs. Hudson, I just grabbed a bite with Sarah. I'll be heading to bed now."
"Okay sweetie, call if you need me." I nod and head to the familiar room.
Once tucked in and settled I think. And I think some more. I think until my head aches and begs me to stop. Sherlock meant the world to me...but does that mean I love him? I turn over and hug the pillow. I loved him as family is all. I don't know what Sarah was prattling on about. We were family. Sherlock and I, and Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade, Mycroft. We were all part of a big dysfunctional family. But a family none the less. That's why I'm grieving so long. And no one will tell me other wise.
I sigh and pull the sheets up higher. For the sake of my sanity, I only hope I'll get better soon.
That day would hold all of the fateful events that would lead to a lovely disaster in which I'm currently situated. Even now I wonder how I was so ignorant, so ignorant is was almost bliss. As they say ignorance is bliss. But if not had those events that happened that day taken place I never would have found the missing piece. I never would've helped those people. My life would've ended.
Despite not being able to say now if my life will end one of these days, it irrefutably would have if not these actions have happened. The mystery wouldn't have been solved. But for now I guess this is all I can say as I am on a tight schedule. Upcoming events lines of dominoes, til finally one day the one is tipped knocking over the whole of it all. I guess for now I must leave this as it is now.
-John Watson
Hello all. I've finally decided to right a Johnlock fic. And to be honest, I've currently gotten myself infatuated with it. As in I watched the show, the two newer movies, and am currently reading the books. If you thought, or think, that this story is good so far and you would like me to continue it be sure to let me know. Reviews are always welcomed. High fives for being absolutely in love with Benedict and Martin! Well I shall talk to you all again soon ~Keeblo