Chapter 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.
Author's note: So I decided to carry this on. I hope you like it. I think it will be about ten chapters long and I will try to update as quickly as possible. But please sympathise with me, I have three other stories on the go and exams at the moment. There are words from BBC Sherlock in here that I do not own, they just fit. I hope you enjoy it and please review!
Lestrade came back over in the morning to find John exactly where he left him, staring at Sherlock's empty chair and sat in his own.
"John? I'm here to take you to see your psychiatrist." Lestrade said quietly.
"I don't want to go." John said.
"Come on. It will be over before you know it. You need this, John." Lestrade said and put a hand on John's shoulder.
John sighed and stood up.
"Do you want some breakfast first?" Lestrade asked. Then he noticed that John still had some of Sherlock's blood on him. When John had held Sherlock he had managed to get the consulting detective's blood on the left side of his face, on the collar of his shirt and some on his sleeves.
"I'm not hungry." John said.
"John, you've got... blood... on you. Do you want me to give you a few minutes to clean yourself up and change clothes?" Lestrade asked.
John looked in the mirror and nodded.
Within half an hour John was sat in Lestrade's police car, being driven to his psychiatrist.
"You see, I'll be looking after you for now. The chief superintendant has suspended me and I thought you would need somebody." Lestrade told John.
"What? Do I need a carer?" John asked.
Lestrade sighed "I'm just being your friend, John."
"I don't want friends. I want Sherlock." John said and then rested his forehead against the window.
Lestrade took John to the waiting room and sat with him. But it didn't feel like he was doing much. John was very quiet.
"Doctor Watson?" the receptionist asked.
John stood up and as he walked away Lestrade noticed John limping.
John walked into Ellie's office and sat in his normal chair.
"John, how are you?" Ellie asked kindly.
"Let's cut to the chase." John said "Do you want to hear me say it?"
"It's been eighteen months since our last appointment." Ellie said.
"Do you watch the news? And you read the newspapers?" John asked.
"Sometimes."
"You know why I'm here." John pushed.
"I'm here becau-"John couldn't finish what he was going to say.
"What happened, John?" Ellie asked.
"Sher... my best friend, Sherlock Holmes... is dead." John choked out and a few tears rolled down his cheeks.
Ellie sat back for a few moments. "How did you find out about his death?" Ellie asked.
"I saw him... I saw..." John couldn't complete his sentence.
"What was he to you, John?" Ellie asked.
"He is... everything. I love him. He was my best friend." John said.
Ellie tried to find out how John was feeling, but nobody could label what he was feeling.
She advised he started using his cane again to help him walk easier.
"Do you live with anyone?" she asked.
"I live...lived with him. But our landlady is downstairs." John said.
John left the office quickly.
Lestrade followed him out to the car.
John sat there "What are you waiting for? Start the car already!" John exclaimed.
"John... there's his will reading." Lestrade said.
"Now?" John asked.
"You've been asked to come." Lestrade said.
John just nodded and looked back out the window and the pointless world again.
They arrived at Mycroft's manor where the will would be read.
They came to a room with a table with chairs around it.
Mycroft was there with a solicitor; Mrs Hudson was there with Molly, who must have driven her here.
John sat down and waited for the solicitor to begin.
"This is the will reading of Mister Sherlock Holmes." The solicitor began.
"To my brother I leave all family heirlooms. To Mrs Hudson I leave five thousand pounds, in hopes she can have a comfortable life." Mrs Hudson burst into tears but managed to calm down a bit.
"To Molly I leave my microscope, thank you for the help with my experiments, use this for your own." Molly smiled sadly.
"To DI Lestrade, I leave my notes on cases to help you along the way to solve others."
"And to my good doctor, John Watson and best friend, I leave everything. I leave you my money; I hope you can continue to live in our home with the help of that money. I leave the rest of my possessions to do with what you want to. And I leave you with this message. Thank you. Whatever way I die, I hope you were unharmed. Thank you for being my first and best friend. Live well my dear John." The solicitor finished.
John lowered his head and nodded in understanding.
When John got home he requested that Lestrade leave him again. He got out his laptop and opened his blog.
He sat there contemplating what to write. He had so many words, but they wouldn't do anything justice. So he put the news video on there from this morning, the revelation of Sherlock's suicide, and he wrote what he needed to. He couldn't describe the man he knew and loved. He couldn't put into words how he felt. But he thought that what he wrote was exactly what he needed to say. He disabled the comments; he wasn't planning on revisiting his blog where he had written his and Sherlock's life together on. And he logged out.
Lestrade got an email alert saying that John's blog had been updated. He opened the blog and read the words that he knew came from John's heart and every word, letter and syllable was meant whole-heartedly.
'He's my best friend and I'll always believe in him.'