I can't get away from him, not even in sleep. The dreams I had- the nightmares- were normal. I'd had them since I had gotten back from the war, but lately these ones seemed worse. Probably because of THE EVENT. The one we don't talk about. The one I can't forget about because I haven't been able to leave this godforsaken flat where literally everything in it reminds me of him. Almost all the time, the nightmares are about him. About Sherlock. I see him falling, and I run towards him. Unlike what actually happened, I can run fast enough to catch him, to cushion his fall, to do SOMETHING. I catch him... but he's already dead. Every night, I see his blood-stained face and his bruised, pale white skin. And every single fucking night, I wake up sobbing, shaking, and crying out his name. Tonight was no different, I had the same dream and woke in the same condition. "SHERLOCK!" I screamed, trying not to hyperventilate. And from the corner of the room, I see HIM. That bastard, that wonderful, brilliant little bugger. He's sitting in the chair he sat in whenever he would come in my room, which was quite a lot towards the end. He got up, his normally stoic face sporting a worried, almost anguished look. He hurried to my bedside, touched my hand, and whispered, "Don't worry John. It was all a magic trick. I'm here, see? You don't have to do this anymore."
"Sherlock..." I couldn't believe it. I was hallucinating, the grief had finally gotten to me. I was going mad. I gripped his fingers, felt his smooth skin under my rough, calloused hands. So I wasn't hallucinating.. that meant...
"Yeah?"
"YOU... FUCKING... DICK! WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN? WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL? AND HOW ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH DID YOU FAKE YOUR MOTHER FUCKING DEATH?!" I was mad. I wanted to wring his porcelain-like neck. I wanted to break every bone in his body. I wanted to shoot him in the face. I pulled my hand away, placed it on his shoulder, and pulled him into a tight hug. "Never... never do that again. Do you know how bad things got for me when you left? Oh God, I'm so glad you're okay."
"John..." he hesitantly placed his arms around me and buried his head in my neck. "I missed you too."