Chapter 1
It had been 2 years since Sherlock had died. John had taken Sherlock's job, to keep himself busy. When he didn't have a case he just sulked around. He hardly ate. Most of the time just sat in his chair, staring at the empty one in front of him. When Sherlock died, John had died inside. He had had nothing else to live for.
John would visit Sherlock's grave every day. Every day for 2 years. 729 times. He would tell Sherlock how his day had gone. How Sherlock would have found this case boring; too easy or how he had solved it. How he's getting better at deducing things. How empty it is around the flat. How much he misses him and wishes he was still here.
Sherlock had faked his death. He couldn't tell John because he knew Moriarty was still out there. He had figured that out almost immediately after faking his death. If he told John, Moriarty might use John against him again. Moriarty probably already knew Sherlock was trying to find him again. He was working on killing off small parts of his web, trying to get closer to Moriarty. It was all for John. Protecting John was all that mattered anymore.
2 years after killing off a large part of the network. He decided to just come to his grave. He wouldn't make any contact with John. He just needed to see John, see that he was okay, and taking care of himself. He showed up early, and looked at his own grave. That's a funny sentence, Sherlock thought,looking at my own grave.
He saw that there were flowers around it. It was obviously cared for. He saw the footprints from the day before when John had dutifully come, just like every day before that and the hand print on the top of the stone where he rested his hand while he spoke of his day. Sherlock sighed. He really missed John. He'd give anything to talk to him again. He started to pull out his phone. He began to type out a message to John. I'm okay. I'm not dead. I'm sorry. I miss you. I can explain everything later on. -SH
He couldn't send it, though. He wouldn't put John in danger like that. He slid the phone shut. His phone saved it as a draft automatically.
He stuffed his phone into his coat pocket. Forgetting that on his last fight with someone in Moriarty's web, this pocket had acquired a hole. He walked a distance away from the grave and positioned himself in a hidden spot to where he couldn't be seen, but could see John.
Soon after he had hid himself, he saw John approaching. The sight of John made him so happy, but also extremely depressed, knowing he still couldn't see him. He saw that John had lost weight, obviously not eating as much as he used to and that he was using his cane again. He saw a look of great and deep sadness on John's face. Sherlock had to look away for a moment. His death had hit John harder than he thought. He sighed as he watched John kneel down, speaking words he couldn't hear, to his tombstone.
John walked slowly to Sherlock's grave for the 730th time. He sighed as he knelt down in front of it. "2 years Sherlock. You've missed so much." John felt tears roll down his face as he remembered the day it all happened. He started to stand up and go home when he saw a glint of something shiny behind the tombstone. That wasn't there yesterday. He went and picked up the shiny thing and stared in shock.
This was Sherlock's phone.