Author's Note: Chapter 2 as promised.
The next few weeks felt so short. I didn't do as many cases now. I couldn't bring myself to because I wanted to spend as much time as I possibly could. I couldn't focus. All I could think about was the day I would have to say goodbye, maybe for the last time.
I laid up in bed late every night and thought about how empty this place would be. How awkward I would look when I showed up to crime scenes alone, maybe stumbling over my own feet from too many drugs. Just like before he came. I was so awkward then. And hated. God, they all hated me so much, but they needed me. That's the only reason I was still around. Maybe I still am hated, but John made it bearable. Because he didn't hate me. He thought I was fascinating. Brilliant.
"I love you, Sherlock."
And that's usually when I would curl up in a ball as tight as I could and try to sleep with his voice echoing in my head.
People always tell you to "be positive." "Don't focus on the bad stuff and imagine what it will be like when he comes back."
When?
How about "if"?
I wish it were that easy. They haven't lived through it so they can never understand.
That's the worst one. "I understand."
You don't.
Just imagine your friend, your best friend in the world, fighting for his life for two years in some foreign country where anything could happen. All it takes is one false step.
He's spent the past few days saying goodbye to his old friends and distant family members. I'm jealous of every second.
Maybe it's childish, but I couldn't help it. I wanted as much time with him as I could get before he left. I needed that time.