Coming, Mrs Hudson.
John blacked his phone's screen and sighed. Fixing phones. That was why he had come back: to help Mrs Hudson. At least, that was what he had told everyone. Including himself.
With an effort, he stood up from his chair. No, not his chair. Sherlock's chair. That was where he sat now. He got up from Sherlock's chair and headed downstairs to help Mrs Hudson.
"Sit down, John. Would you like a muffin?"
"Yes, please. Thank you, that looks nice."
"How are you doing?"
"I'm fine."
"No, really. How are you?"
"I'm…it's hard, you know? Getting used to it. To him not being there. I mean, I'll look at something in the paper, and turn around to tell him, and he's just not there."
"I know the feeling. When I'm watching the news, I'll see a murder story, and wonder if Sherlock solved it. Then I remember, he can't."
"Sometimes, when I can't sleep at night, I think I can hear his violin playing. But then I go downstairs and it's lying there, untouched. I mean, I know it can't be him, but I still hope, you know?"
"I know. It's hard to lose someone so young."
"The worst bit is, I never said goodbye. I was the last person to speak to him, and I never said goodbye. I kept trying to persuade him not to jump."
"You went to his grave."
"That's different. How do you say goodbye to someone who's dead? Someone who…who took their own life? I mean, if he'd got sick, or killed by some assassin, I think I could say goodbye. But not like this."
"You can't. All you can do with any death is get past it."
"I'm a doctor, and a soldier. I've seen countless people die. I've seen the grief their families go through. But it's never happened to me. I've had family members die, but…I've never felt like this. Do you know why that is?"
"Because you loved him. No, I know you weren't in love with him, not like that. But you cannot deny that you loved Sherlock Holmes, in your own way. And he loved you too, in his own way. You both needed each other, too. God knows I needed him, too."
"Hey, don't cry. You'll set me off."
"It feels as though I've lost a son. I never had children, and always regretted it until I met Sherlock. The two of you are like sons to me. It's funny, he always did little things that annoyed me."
"Eyes in the refrigerator isn't exactly little."
"No, it wasn't. But in the scheme of things, it seems a small thing to get annoyed about. I feel that I should have been there for him more. I should have been nicer."
"Hey, you were nice. You were the nicest person towards him. He loved you, you know that? He threw a man out the window for you, more times than I can count. He loved you more than anything. I promise you that. We will get through it, together."
"I'm sorry, dear. I'm sure you don't want to watch an old woman crying."
"Where? I don't see an old woman."
"Don't flatter me. Unless you want another muffin."
"Actually, I should be getting back now. I'm expecting a call." He got up and went to the door. "But thank you."
She smiled a weary smile. "Thank you."