Crashed
Year One
It's been one year since Doctor John Watson has stepped foot in 221B Baker Street. He has avoided this place and St. Barts Hospital where his best friend fell to his death. He has kept in touch with his old land lady Mrs. Hudson, Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade and Mycroft Holmes. John stepped out of the taxi, looking around and seeing that nothing has changed, (It's the same old Baker Street) he thought to himself as he slowly walked up to the door to 221B. He knocked on the door, hesitating only for a moment before Mrs. Hudson opened the door.
"John!" said Mrs. Hudson with a surprised look on her face. John gave her a soft smile as she pulled him into a hug.
"How have you been, Mrs. Hudson?" Asked John, as he leaned out of her hug.
"The hip is bad and a bit lonely but alright. Come in dear." Said Mrs. Hudson, as she moved out of the doorway so John could enter. Mrs. Hudson didn't want ask John how he was holding up because she knew that he would lie or that she may hurt him.
"I can't stay; I just came here to pack up my things." Said John, as he started to walk up the stairs to the flat he once shared with Sherlock Holmes. Mrs. Hudson shook her head and walked to her room down the hall. John had to take the stairs one at a time, (Stupid leg, why are you acting up all of a sudden?) he thought to himself as he reached the top of the stairs. He stood outside of the door to the flat; he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he put his hand of the doorknob. He could hear a violin playing on the other side of the door.
"Sherlock!" Said John, as he threw the door open and tripped inside.
He stood there as his eyes adjusted to the darkened room. The violin stopped as his eyes found that the flat was the same as when he left it. He limped farther into the room; he reached out for the lamp and turned it on. The only thing that changed was the amount of dust on everything.
He spent the next few hours collecting his things from his bedroom and now he moved down to the kitchen to get his favorite mug. He walked into the kitchen to find that even the last experiment Sherlock was working on was still sitting on the table. He leaned against the counter and took a deep breath. (Maybe today was not the day to come here ) He shook his head and turned around to open the cupboard, he reached up and grabbed what he thought was his mug. He brought the mug down to see that it was Sherlock's.
CRASH!
John was standing with his left hand shaking along with his legs. The mug was on the floor in pieces; John's legs gave out and fell to the floor with tears burning his eyes.
"I'm sorry Sherlock; I didn't mean to break your mug." Whispered John as he collected the shards of broken glass. (Ouch) John pulled his hand up to his face to see that he had cut it. He threw the shards in the waste and went back to get his mug.
He walked into the sitting room and put his mug in the cardboard box that was sitting on the table. He wiped his eyes with the back on his hand and pick up the box to leave. He picked up his cane and limped down the stairs; he walked out of the front door and kissed Mrs. Hudson good bye.
Year Two
This is the fifth time John moved in the last year. He didn't know why he kept on moving but he just couldn't stay in one place for long. It's the same with his girlfriends; a different one every month.
He finished putting his stuff away and went to bed early so he could get up for work in the morning. It s the only thing that hasn't changed over the last two years, but it was slipping away from him. He would walk out on his patients, start yelling at nothing and he would lose balance and fall. He started using his cane again because his leg was bad again and his hand would shake for hours on end.
"This is my note... Good bye John"
"SHERLOCK!" Yelled John as he sat up in bed. He kept having that scene replay in his dreams. He wanted the end of the dream to change but it never did. He turned and looked at the clock he had a few hours until he had to work; he showered and ate a small breakfast before he left his apartment. He walked to work to clear his mind so he could focus on his work.
"I'm sorry John but you're not focusing on your work. You're fired."
John walked home from his last day at his work. (I knew this was coming ) He decided to go look for a job in a few days.
Year Three
John walked out of his apartment to his new job; it has taken him a year to find a new permanent job. He worked for a small pharmacy, it was an easy job and it paid descent but John was not happy with it.
Today was a wet one. It had rained for two days straight and now it was worse. John was having a hard time seeing two feet in front of him. He had already bumped into three people and a few poles. He hated it; not being able to see or walk or hold on to things without dropping them. He stopped at the corner of the street so he could cross it. He stepped out and he heard a scream coming from somewhere behind him. He turned around to see a woman pointing down the street; John continued to walk to the other side of the street when he seen what the woman was screaming about.
A car was three feet away from him and speeding. He had no time to get out of the way so he closed his eyes and whispered "Sherlock" .
He felt the impact of the car and the ground; he laid five feet away from the car. He could hear screaming and yelling and cars stopping. He opened his eyes to see a familiar face looking down at him.
"Am I going to die?"
"No, just hold on"
"But I want to be with you"
"John, I'm not dead..."
"Sher" Was the last thing John said before he blacked out. Sherlock was holding Johns hand as he stopped breathing. (No. No John, hold on) Sherlock bent down to give John CPR until the ambulance got there.
"John"
John slowly opened his eyes to see Sherlock sitting beside his bed. (I'm dead ) Sherlock shook his head as if he could read Johns mind. He grabbed Johns hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Sherlock blurred around the edges as tears ran down Johns face.
"Don t cry John, it s going to be okay. I will stay with you if you will let me."
"Why would I want you to leave Sherlock?" John said as reached out his hand to touch Sherlock's face. Sherlock moved so fast that John didn't have time to react. Sherlock's mouth was on Johns; John was wide eyed but his eyes slowly closed and his other hand found Sherlock's hair. Sherlock's arms were wrapped around John's waist; Sherlock moved slowly so he wouldn't hurt John more. He already broke his heart and now caused him to get hit by a car.
They stayed like that for a long time before Sherlock pulled away and put his forehead against Johns.
"I broke your mug, Sherlock. I'm sorry."
"I don't mind just don't break my heart again."
They smiled at each other because they knew that they had the rest of their lives together.