A year.
That's how long it had been since John had smiled.
A year since the final case.
A whole year without the best friend he had ever known.
One great man.
Sherlock's prescence had always been so constant. He and John went everywhere together, and even on the extremely rare occasion John went somewhere, perhaps to the library or for a quiet walk, the sociopathic detective popped up anyway. He used to find this rather annoying, yet John would have given anything for Sherlock to pop up again.
Just to have the reassurance that Sherlock was somehow still alive.
This was the singular thought that had kept John going. That and Mrs Hudson forcing him back into a daily routine, which seemed dull and gray compared to the rush of colours his life had been before.
Before the fall.
John had seen many deaths serving his time in the army.
But none compared to seeing his closest friend just…fall.
He remembered how he had frozen, the colour vanishing from his face, trembling, and almost falling to his knees, but racing forward.
But…
John had been too late.
The blood…that just..pooled under Sherlock's head, the detectives eyes, once full of life, now dull, blank, and unblinking, never to see the sun again.
He heard Sherlock hit the unforgiving ground.
The screams from a passerby.
And himself shouting Sherlock's name.
He had seen Sherlock…die…with his own eyes.
And yet… John just couldn't bring himself to fully believe that Sherlock had died.
Twirling his phone in his hands, depressed and bored, John gathered the courage to look at the screen. He began scrolling through every message Sherlock had ever sent him, right from the very beginning.
'Please inform Mrs Hudson that the head MUST be kept in the freezer'
John fought the urge to chuckle.
'Hold on John, I'm coming'
'Lestrade is concerned. The blithering idiot should know we have never failed in a case'
'Almost there'
'Hang on'
John knew it was all he could do….'hang on'. With a heavy heart, John placed the phone on the coffee table, before slowly rising to his feet.
'YOU'VE GOT (1) NEW MESSAGE'
John rolled his eyes, expecting it to be Lestrade, or perhaps Mrs Hudson informing him how her trip to see family was going. After the little tune had finished, John suddenly froze, his mind suddenly registering and absorbing what he had just heard.
That tune…the elegant violin tune.
The first song he had ever heard Sherlock play on his violin that John had bought him for Christmas. Reserved only for messages from Sherlock. But…that was…
John swallowed as he picked up the phone.
The initial shock took some time to pass over.
Before the biggest of smiles tugged at the edges of his mouth, the first smile since the fateful day of the...fall.
'Open the door'
Mind racing, John barely had time to breathe before the next message.
'I'm home'
John dropped the phone, and raced out of the room.
'SH'