In the time after Sherlock Holmes fell, the lives he was in became so very quiet.

The Yard felt this in the crime scenes and cases that came after his fall. No more having their intelligence insulted, no more lightning-fast deductions. No 'tainted' crime scenes.

Mrs. Hudson, though she complained about the noise he made, hated the silence the flat now held. She hated it not only for the pain of the loss of one she thought as her son, but also for the pain of the man who lived there; alone.

Mycroft stopped dieting altogether, hoping for an insult from his little brother. Insults that never came. Only quiet.

But the one who greatly suffered from the quiet? John Watson.

No more violin at 3am. No shooting at the wall. No yells of Bored!

No one to ruin his dates, or interrupt him at work.

Even watching the telly was quiet. No commentary from the man who felt like he knew everything.

No snaps of how unimportant it is to eat or sleep. No explosions from the kitchen.

No rude awakenings a rare, restful, sleep with a We got a case! Nor wake him from nightmares.

And because dead men speak naught, the promise to those suffering in the silence; was quiet:

Keep faith. One day, I will come back.