By the time he plods in to his kitchen, he feels more or less like himself; the way he is meant to feel. A sense of normalcy seems to have returned to the scene. He looks up at the imposing cupboards; the same ones that used to house body parts, and pauses for a moment before opening it up and pouring himself a bowl of cereal.

John stands at the counter eating, despite his lack of hunger, and he lets his mind drift. Sadness stabs at his heart, deeply gouging it. But he moves on, just like he does every day, alone.

His feet might as well be made of lead as he drags them through the kitchen and out in to the sitting room. The stabbing pain comes again, ripping through his chest, it feels as though someone had pressed a hot iron to his skin.

He dares not look at the worn armchair in the corner of the room. Not because he is afraid of what he will see there, rather because he fears what won't be there; and can never be there again.

His Best Friend.

Broken realisation courses through him, bitter and seething. John imagines them sitting there laughing about something trivial, or discussing a case. He remembers chuckling at the disdain Sherlock would show for such ridiculous things, and the sense of awe that came with watching his best friend do what he did best. John would never forget the gleam of satisfaction that would shine brightly in Sherlock's grey-blue eyes whenever he found a new lead on a case, or made an amazing deduction.

He wishes he could talk to Sherlock just one last time, see his face just once more. John realises this will never happen, it is the thing of dreams, and John is not blessed with dreams, he is plagued by nightmares.

It feels as though a heavy weight had been dropped in John's stomach, when he realises that it will never be the same.

Nothing will ever be the same, and there is no going back.

With these words ringing in his ears, John puts his best foot forward; determined to get through the misery of the day.

Thank you so much for reading. Please leave a review if convenient, constructive criticism is also quite welcome.