Based on the song 'Fix You' by Coldplay. The first fanfic I'm publishing. Hope you all like it.
Fix You
When you try your best but you don't succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep
Sherlock had jumped two months ago and it wasn't getting any better. John couldn't sleep any more, it seemed as though the more tried he was the harder it was to sleep.
He needed help, psychiatric help, but he couldn't, just couldn't. So the only help he was getting was financial help from Mycroft, who was now paying John's rent, and nourishment from Mrs. Hudson, who was cooking him meals making him eat regularly.
Greg and Molly were also a great help, even though their help often irritated him when he calmed down he could see that they really were trying to help him.
Stuck in reverse
John tried, he tried so hard it hurt, but it was like being stuck in reverse, he couldn't sworn he was only getting worse.
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
He had sought psychiatric help in the beginning, but it wasn't helping! She wanted him to talk about his feelings but his feelings were so jumbled and confusing. First came grief: who could replace the great Sherlock Holmes? His best friend and his whole future! Then grief was joined by anger: why did the damn bastard have to jump! Couldn't he see what his life meant! Couldn't he see that people did love him! Couldn't he see how John loved him! Why did he have to jump, why did he have to leave? They could've worked through this, could've fixed it!
Anger mixed with grief mixed with a million other even more confusing feelings to create an inescapable prison within John Watson's own body, always pressing down on the poor doctor, and nothing HELPED!
Could it be worse?
As if all that wasn't enough his psychosomatic limp returned, worse than ever, and the intermittent tremor in his left hand made it nearly impossible to hold anything.
'Could it be worse?' He often thought.
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
Sherlock watched it all.
All the pain his friends went through.
Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, Mycroft even, and... John.
He even saw the pain in Molly's eyes too, and she knew he was alive. He sort of understood, she was lying to everyone, acting as though Sherlock was dead. It was really putting a strain on her. He hated it! He hated himself for doing this to all of them! But most of all he hated Moriarty for forcing him to either die or watch John die, knowing all the while the Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson were also dying.
He HATED it! He hated EVERYTHING!
He watched John at 'his' grave and it killed him.
"I WILL fix this John," he promised quietly. "I WILL fix you"
High up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth
If there was anything good to say about all this it was that Sherlock learned what he was really worth to all these people. Even Donovan and Anderson seemed upset by his death. This taught Sherlock that people really did care. He hoped after Moriarty's network was taken out he could come back, hope he could have even a shadow of the love he once had.
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you
Fix You.
Everyone wanted to fix him. Everyone seemed to have gotten over HIS death. But not John, two years and he still mourned, still felt lost, still confused.
The lights were on, but there was nobody home.
Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I
John
He never stopped mourning, never stopped crying even after years. After all what he lost is not something you can just replace.
Sherlock watched the tears fall, and it nearly broke him.
"NO" he commanded himself. "One more left, one more assassin."
He watched the tears fall from John's face and it nearly broke him.
Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I
One more assassin.
Just one more obstacle between him and John.
Sherlock was a better man now. He had learned from past mistakes. He was ready, SO ready, to be back.
One more assassin.
He followed Sebastian Moran to...
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
John walked home late one night, guided by the street lights. Three years ago today, Sherlock Holmes, jumped off St Bard's, taking his own life, and John Watson's in the process. John was maybe starting to except it.
When he got to 221b Bakerstreet the lights were on upstairs. It wasn't all that unusual, Mrs. Hudson usually turned the lights on when he was getting home late, no reason to be suspicious.
Little did he know a sniper had been waiting. Or that John would be his second victim that night.
John saw Sherlock again, in heaven.
Thinking he had been dead three years when he had only been dead three hours.
It didn't matter though, they were together again. John was HAPPY.
And I will try to fix you
AN~ wow death, not where I thought this was going when I wrote it. oh well
~~so I just fixed every error I found, if you find anymore please tell me so I can fix those too