Post-Reichenbach, kinda angsty. Pre-slash.
"…and then, when I told her about the perfume on her husband, she tried at once to—" Sherlock looked up from his rambling to find that, once again, John wasn't there. It had been almost two months since his 'fall,' but he still couldn't seem to get used to not having John around. He had managed to get used to everything else, but not having John around was proving to be extremely difficult
He sighed, wishing he had his violin with him, even though he knew it wouldn't help. He picked up his phone and read through the texts he had received since his fall from Bart's.
Went to your funeral today. You would have found it tedious. Sentiment and all that shit. I know you never understood it. -JW
I made two cups of tea again. I left yours on the table by your chair. Maybe you'll come back for it, you always loved the tea I made, said it was just right.. -JW
The tea was still there when I woke up. Maybe you just weren't thirsty. -JW
I've started working again. Not at St. Barts, though. It's just too much to be there. The funny thing is that if you'd been around you would've told me to just get the fuck over it. -JW
Harry called me. Says I should come live with her. I can't, though. If I leave, there's no chance of you coming back -JW
Please come back, Sherlock. You can't be dead! -JW
I won't even complain when you play the violin at three in the morning or conduct experiments at all hours. -JW
I met a new girl today, but could tell after mere minutes that she was a chronic cheater. I guess you've rubbed off on me. -JW
My therapist says I should stop texting you, in order to move on. Perhaps she's right, I'm not even sure what's right anymore. -JW
You're probably not reading any of this, you dead bastard. -JW
Lestrade visited me today. It was actually quite nice. Offered to let me stay at his place for the night. Just for some company. But I couldn't -JW
Anderson was bragging about how he knew you were a fraud all along. The stupid twat! Gave him a bloody nose. -JW
I don't think Sally was too pleased about it. -JW
They tried to take your violin away. I couldn't let them. I wouldn't let them touch a single thing in your room, in case you come back one day. -JW
The nightmares have come back. But this time, I just see you falling. And I try to catch you, but I'm always too late. Always. -JW
I was supposed to protect you and keep you safe. I guess I can't do anything right. -JW
I thought I saw you outside the flat today. My heart literally lept, but you disappeared. You always do. -JW
God, just give me a sign. Anything. I just need to know you're alive. Please, you just can't be dead. -JW
Sherlock looked away from the phone, breathing heavily. The texts still came in a steady flow every day. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. He was already taking risks, checking up on John in different disguises. He had nearly been caught a few times, too. He leaned back in his chair, sighing deeply. A single tear found it's way down his cheek.
He missed John
BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR
A year and a half passed. He was getting closer and closer to completely eliminating the web Moriarty had left. The texts still came. It kept Sherlock sane. Kept him from being tempted by the needle. Kept him going.
I was watching crap telly again. Not the same without you shouting abuse at every idiot onscreen. -JW
Your brother was quite insistent that I go back to see my therapist. I'd rather not, though. It's not helping at all. -JW
It still hurts, Sherlock. It's been over a year and it still hurts. Why won't it stop hurting? -JW
I still make two cups of tea. You still never drink yours. I wish you would -JW
BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR BOFUR
Two years later, he had finally cornered the last member of the web, taking care of him with one clean shot to the head. After the man was dead, Sherlock sat down, staring at the corpse for a good three hours.
It was done.
The web was gone.
And then, out of nowhere, he felt an almost manic explosion of laughter burst out of his mouth. He was laughing uncontrollably, tears streaming down his pale face. Or was he crying? Emotions of glee and desperation racked his body, reducing him to a shaking lump next to a dead man. Finally, he managed to stand up and pull himself together, leaving the corpse alone and quickly typing out a text before heading back home.
Why don't you put the kettle on? -SH
Thank you so much for taking the time to read this. Maybe I'll write a sequel or something... yeah, we'll see
I used Bofur as pagebreak because he's one of my favorite dwarves, the two others are Kili and Balin!