CHAPTER 1 ~The Way Things Are~
Sherlock sits in his chair watching the midnight sky as it blankets over London calling all who inhabit it to sleep. Except for the agitated Sherlock Holmes. He sits in silence as the crackle of the fire place behind him gives some comfort to the longing silence of Johns absence slowly consuming him. John goes out every one in a while to spend time with his old friends from the war or out on a date that has him coming home alone every time. It pains Sherlock to see the look of disappointment on John's face. The way his shoulders slump in sync with his eyes feeling unloved and alone. Almost another hour passes through the night as Sherlock stays as solid as stone, appearing to not even breathe until John walks in. He only wants to breathe when he s in Johns presence. but knowing that's impossible he still acts like its plausible. Sherlock hears Johns foot steps coming up the creaky wooden steps, but also followed by another pair right behind him. 'Maybe its ms Hudson'? he thinks to himself waiting in anticipation for the door knob to turn. Finally he hears the doorknob turn and his Grey eyes start to brighten, John slumps inside lightly buzzed by the looks of his walk stumbling slightly over his own feet. Mrs. Hudson's voice comes through the door sounding happy, other then that Sherlock thinks its white noise to what she s saying. He beacon's in on Johns features. The flattened hair from Johns hand as he tried to straighten it, the stain on his coat arm as a waitress spilled beer on him accidentally. Also the dirt on his front shoe interpreting he walked home and the last thing he noticed scared him the most. The pink rose print of a pair of lips on his neck just diagonal of his Jaw. John never let any date kiss past his lips, that was his main rule to ensure not to go too far. That's how Dr. John Watson was, always letting the other make the first move so there's no uncomfortable decline. 'John broke his main rule for a girl who wears Enchanted Forest body spray and a strong lathering of lipstick' The great Sherlock felt his heart sink into his chest as he saw the gleam of happiness in Johns eyes remembering how far he let his guard down.
Sherlock finally speaks up from his chair "You met a girl, a special one by the lipstick on your neck and that gleam in your eyes. I bet this will turn out to be more then one date seeing her number on your wrist is still there" He then went silent again as he watched for Johns reaction. John lets out a slight groan of irritation "Yea, she dose seam special to me. She's a sweet girl, down to earth type" John grabs a novel on fire arms and sits down in his chair opening the book not looking at Sherlock. Not even caring to remove the lipstick from his neck. Sherlock hears his phone ring and answers it "Hello"? there's no noise on the other end then the caller hangs up. "Was that Moriarty"? John asks focused on his book. "I assume so, at times he s like a child who wants to be caught sneaking out of his bedroom window. But at the same time he s the type of man to hold a gun to a child's head as he in visions me writhing in pain" that caught Johns full attention "Sherlock you cant be serious, Moriarty is not that narrow minded to make such a foul move where he can be easily caught. You might say he s like you.." Sherlock gets up pacing, feeling the blood running freely through his veins as his body moves. "Your right we are the same.." John places his book down, his face astonished by this. "oh Sherlock I didn't mean- I, there is no way in this universe that Moriarty is just like you. Your better then he is. Plus Moriarty is one step away from the loony and stalker division, with the way he s so obsessed with you." This doesn't amuse Sherlock at all, it frightens him. Because he knows Moriarty is just toying with him waiting for the right time to strike, like a black mamba infecting its victim leaving them paralyzed and scarred. Sherlock walks over getting his coat and scarf opening the door as John notices. "Sherlock where are you going"? He hesitates as how to lie to John. "I'm going to the lab to do some more digging on Moriarty, and where he might be located" John nods suspecting nothing out of the ordinary from Sherlock, that's how Sherlock liked it. With that Sherlock makes his way to Molly's for a chat.
The next day Sherlock talks to John for the last time convincing John that he was useful to him before plummeting to the concrete below.
John freezes shocked and unable to move like the voice inside his head is yelling at him to do. He starts off at a jog towards where Sherlock hit the concrete. A cyclist clips John forcing him to the ground as he spins off ignoring the person he just clipped. John gets up making his way to the crowd now surrounding Sherlock. Johns breathing deepens as he pushes his way through the crowd seeing his flat mate now rolled over. His Grey eyes vacant glassed over as the blood flows out of the gash in his head just above his left eye. Johns hand darts for Sherlock's wrist, he doesn't feel anything resembling a heartbeat under his fingers. A nurse pry's Johns hand from Sherlock's limp still warm body, he watches as Sherlock's hand falls completely limp against the ground. Once inside John sits in one of the chairs waiting for results on the surgery, Mycroft and Lestrade are there. The surgeon comes out to them and everyone stands. He clasps his hands together "I'm So sorry he didn't make it.." everyone looks bewildered, John falls to his knees Lestrade catching him holding the Doctor in his arms. John starts to sob and shake uncontrollably as Lestrade tries to comfort a torn man way beyond any hope of ever being whole again.
(3 YEARS LATER) It had been 3 years, more than a thousand days passed since Sherlock's death. John sits in his chair with his eyes closed trying to think of something simple to get him to move around the flat, or just eat something. Moments later his eyes snap open as his vision replays the fall, reminding him that once again Sherlock is not there anymore. He looked at the empty chair in front of him, looking so lonely without his Sherlock in it. Mrs. Hudson didn't come up to the flat anymore, after a while it brought her to tears to even put her hand on the doorknob to that place where Sherlock is no more. Although John did stop by her place fairly regularly to keep some form of his sanity from slipping out of his grasp. He looks outside at the rain patting against the window, his watch timer goes off to remind him he has therapy. John forces himself to his feet and outside where he takes a cab to his appointment.
His therapist sits in her chair across from John gently asking him about his day, he just mumbles out "oh just the usual, heartbreaking day like always.." She looks at him sternly "Now John we have been through this before. Just find one shred of something to smile about and take another step from there, to call it a day until you get up to at least ten things to make you smile in one day, or even in one week." she says sounding gentle to not anger him. The session ended at its usual time and John made his way to Angelo's for a drink. Angelo serves him only 1 glass because a while back John got wasted and started to cause a ruckus's so Angelo gave John a permanent limit of 1. On his way out the door he spots a person who catches his eye, the man is tall with black curly hair and wearing a black coat with matching pants and boots. John races after him grabbing the man by his arm "Sherlock"? the man turns looking puzzled at John. From the back it looked like him but his facial features were off, it was not Sherlock. John goes back to the flat, he grabbed one of his medical books scanning through it till he stumbled upon a segment on brain injury. This caught his eye and tugged at his heart, despite the pain he read through it carefully analyzing every type of brain injury there is.
"oh, John.." Johns head lifts up looking at Amy, the girl he first started dating from 3 years ago, the women Sherlock didn't like. She sat on the couch looking at him twirling her index finger in her hair. John sets his book down and joins her on the couch, she takes his hand in hers. John looks up facing her, she leans in kissing his lips. The physical contact did little to distract John from his comatose state, probably nothing ever would, he felt too broken to be fixed. Too mad to be sane again and too lost to be found by this point. John turned off all the lights before leaving. They both went into Johns room, she looked around at his things as John sat on the bed looking at the floor. 'why did you leave me...Sherlock why did you abandon me..' John thinks to himself before she joins him, leaning against John her arm wrapping around him. She leaned in and this time John met her halfway kissing back.