"You… you told me once that you weren't a hero. Umm, there were times I didn't even think you were human. But let me tell you this, you were the best man, the most human… human being that I've ever known, and no-one will ever convince me that you told me a lie, so there. I was so alone, and I owe you so much. But, please, there's just one more thing, one more thing, one more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't be… dead. Would you do that just for me? Just stop it. Stop this."
"That was seven years ago, to the day," John thought to himself. He was sure that this was all a joke and he was just dreaming.
No, this was reality, and a hell of one.
John sat in his chair, staring out the window and drinking his morning tea. This was his morning ritual and it had been for 7 years. He would sit there in silence and listen to the cars outside and the occasional movement of Mrs. Hudson upstairs.
"Bored," Sherlock would always say when nothing was going on, like today. He would get so annoyed at Sherlock for saying that, but now he wished he could hear his dear friend's voice again.
Just as he was lost in his thought, he was frightened by a hand grabbing his shoulder.
It was Mrs. Hudson. "Sorry for the fright John, but the telephone's for you."
It was work. His afternoon and evening appointments canceled so he would not need to come in today. John thanked the secretary and hung up. It was very unlike him, but he was glad he didn't have to go to work. Today was just not the best day for him.