Hey guys! Here is chapter two. I tried to make it lengthy.

Chapter 2

John laid in bed and stared at his ceiling, he hadn't slept last night. When he did sleep the two hours though, it wasn't restful. He consistently had nightmares, every night. He sighed and rubbed at his eyes sleepily. The images of last night's dream tormenting his mind.

His mind kept taking him back to that day as he stared up at Sherlock standing on the edge of Saint Bart's. John squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will the images away. He sighed a little as he heard his phone chirp. He reached over to the nightstand and opened the message.

I know you probably will ignore this message. Thought you might want to get some coffee this afternoon. Please. Text me. -GL

John just sighed a little and stared at the screen for a minute. Greg has been a good friend for the past week or so. He's been checking up on John, making sure he was still okay, making sure he was still alive knowing how close to Sherlock he was. John reluctantly typed out a reply.

Yeah sure. What time? -JW

He closed his eyes and stayed that way for a few minutes. He hated Sherlock being gone. As much as that arrogant git irritated him, John still enjoyed his company. Sherlock was really the only person John had. Besides Greg, Molly, and Mrs. Hudson. He couldn't stand being alone any more. It was driving him inside. John constantly thought about Sherlock, thought about why in the hell he jumped, why did he have to be so selfish and leave John like that. He heard his phone chirp and he sighed a little, slowly opening his eyes to look at the message.

Is around 2 okay? I can take break then. Meet me at Scotland Yard and we can go to a cafe. -GL

John bit his lip and and typed out a response.

Sounds good. I'll see you around 2 then. -JW

John sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stared at his phone. He scrolled through his list of contacts and found Sherlock's number. He bit his lip tempted to call him. Just to hear his voice again, even if it's just his voice mail message. He hit the call button putting the phone to his ear and listened. As he listened to each ring, his heart broke more. John closed his eyes as the voice mail came on and a few tears run down his cheeks as he listened to Sherlock's voice. He sighed and shuddered a little refraining from sobbing. John quickly ended the call before the voice mail message could finish and tossed his phone on the bed, cradling his face in his hands. He cried quietly, alone in his flat. He quickly stopped though and rubbed at his eyes. He glanced at the clock that read twelve in the afternoon, and stood up to go take a shower.

He hummed quietly as he stood under the hot spray of the shower, not in pleasure, and not in content. He was frustrated, tired and lonely. He just wanted to see Sherlock again. He just didn't want him dead. He wished he wasn't dead. John just wished that this was all a horrible nightmare and that he would wake up any minute. He wished that he would wake up and find himself back at 221 B and sitting across from Sherlock in his arm chair as they aimlessly banter at each other. John let out a shuddered breath, breathing in the steam and closed his eyes. He felt water, or tears, run down his face, before quickly stopping himself and carried on to wash himself.

John glanced at the clock on his phone as he pulled on his jacket. It was one thirty already, and he sent Greg a text.

On my way over. See you in a bit. -JW

He stuffed his phone in his pocket and headed to the sidewalk haling a cab and going to Scotland Yard.

John entered the building of Scotland Yard and headed to Greg's office, and gently knocked on the door. John stood out side and heard Greg talking on the phone with someone. He leaned against the wall next to the door waiting patiently, fidgeting with the handle to his cane slightly. Ever since John went on that first case with Sherlock, his 'limp' went away and never had it since. Well, that was different now. Sherlock was gone, and his limp was back. Both John's therapist and Sherlock told him it was just a psychosomatic limp, but it was there. He sighed a little looking around the office watching people bustle about with paper work and talking on phones. He missed this. John missed the craziness he had on cases with Sherlock. He missed the excitement of not knowing what would happen, and the danger of the situation. Of course John knew that it was all just an adrenaline rush, but it felt right. John needed to feel that again.

John's thoughts were interrupted when the door to Greg's office opened up. He looked over seeing the detective inspector standing beside him. John gave Greg a fake smile as they shook hands and greeted each other.

"Hey, John. How've you been? Haven't seen you in a while," Greg asks, eying the military doctor with concern. John looked exhausted, beyond belief. Not only did the man look physically tired, but emotionally and mentally. This must have taken it's toll on him, big time.

John followed Greg out of the building and shrugs, "I've been alright. Living, I guess." It wasn't really an answer he should have given Greg, but he had to talk to someone. He needed to get all of this frustration off of his chest. He's been locked up in his flat all the time, alone and depressed. Maybe this is what John needed, someone to listen, someone to care.

They sat across from each other at the cafe, and it had been all small talk for the past fifteen minutes, it has been awkward and uncomfortable for the both of them. John kept watching the sidewalk as people walked by, and Greg watched John. As Greg watched him, he realized something. He realized that John was waiting for him, he was searching for him. John was hoping to see that consulting detective's face somewhere in the crowd, hoping that he was wrong and that Sherlock was not in fact dead.

Greg bit his lip and watched John with concern, "John. You do realize, he's not coming back. He's gone John." Greg held in a breath not sure how John's reaction was going to be.

He sipped at his coffee a little as John turned in his seat and watched him a little, "Don't. Not now. Not here Greg. I don't want to talk about it," and that's what John did. As soon as someone saw him defenseless, and they came poking and prodding at him, he would put the walls up again, pretending that he was fine and nothing could ever go wrong.

Greg sipped at his coffee and started again and reached out, his finger tips gently touching the back of John's hand. "John, please. You need to stop. You can't just keep waiting for him. You're going to drive yourself crazy by doing this," Greg watched as John stared at their hands, obviously his mind was else where until the doctor's tired eyes met Greg's.

"Greg, he can't be. He, just, can't be dead," John shook his head and fought off the tears and slid his hand away from Greg's. He didn't want to be touched or seen like this. John felt that, if he kept telling himself that Sherlock wasn't dead, he really wouldn't be. John closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands as he tried to hide the tears from Greg.

Greg bit at his lip and watched John, he wasn't sure what to do. He just wanted to go over to him and wrap his arms around the military doctor and hold on to him. He wanted to take John's pain away. He wanted to see that bright smile of his back on is face. Greg set his coffee down and moved, kneeling beside John and wrapped his arms around him whispering, "It's okay John, I'm here," Greg gently rubbed John's back as he buried his face in Greg's neck as he cried.

John took a deep breath as he pressed against Greg's neck. It felt wrong, but right at the same time. John needed the comfort, he needed the companionship, John needed to held. He wrapped his arms around Greg and held on to him desperately as he cried.

John slowly calmed down a little and carefully pulled away to look at Greg. He stared Greg in the eyes for a moment, and gently pressed a kiss to his lips.

John pulled away quickly and looked at Greg with wide eyes, "Um. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." John blushed and shifted in his seat burying his face in his hands.

Greg blushed and moved his eyes over John's face, "Its, um, its okay. I didn't mind." Greg rubbed the back of his neck a little and looked down at the ground as it got awkwardly quiet. John glanced at Greg, and leaned forward kissing him gently.

Well there is chapter 2. I hope you enjoy it! Please Review! Thanks! I love you all!