Letting go was easy.
Fall from the building. Dead man on the street.
Easy.
But he suddenly thought of John, the look on his face when he sees him fall.
His throat closes, eyes burning with the tears that were threatening to spill. And suddenly it doesn't seem as easy.
Can you let go, Sherlock? Can you let go of him?
He quickly wipes his eyes, and takes his phone out of his pocket. His heart throbs when he sees that he hadn't replied.
Five minutes, John. You have five minutes.-SH
I find the map and draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, and state lines
The distance from 'A' to where you'd be
It's only finger-lengths that I see
I touch the place where I'd find your face
My fingers in creases of distant dark places
He stares at the his phone, praying that John would just reply. Please. I want to see you one last time. I need you here. I can't do this alone. Please. Please.
He waits, his heart breaking, breaking into tiny tiny pieces. He checks the time on his phone.
One more minute. Just one more minute.
I hang my coat up in the first bar
There is no peace that I've found so far
The laughter penetrates my silence
As drunken men find flaws in science
His heart stops when he checks the time again.
John was too late.
He had to go.
Sherlock Holmes had to go.
He lets the tears spill from his eyes as he throws his phone off the building, and takes off his coat. I'm so sorry John. I'm so sorry.
He looks at the cold hard ground below. It wasn't far. All he had to do...Was to let go.
Their words mostly noises
Ghosts with just voices
Your words in my memory
Are like music to me
Please Sherlock. John's voice whispers in his head. Please don't leave me.
Goodbye, John.
He closes his eyes, and smiles.
He falls. His head hitting the pavement.
I love you.
And he let go.
I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
I, I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms
It wasn't hard. It wasn't hard at all.