A/N: I FEEL LIKE A PIECE OF CHRISTMAS NUTS! I actually almost forgot this old thing until I checked and realized it had 11 followers. My most sincere apologies for making you guys wait! I think you might want to read the previous chapter or else you won't have any idea what's you so much for not un-following or…things….Can you even unfollow a story? Oh whale, enjoy!

CHAPTER THREE

"What are you doing here, John? You were doing so well, what happened?"

At that moment, I honestly didn't know how to respond to her question. Was she asking me how Sherlock, you know; or what actually happened for I to come back after one long year of no consultations.

"It's just that, it's hard for me, I've never been good coping with things I didn't understand. And I don't get why Sherlock had go kill himself, in the peak of his life, with him knowing he had people who loved him. I get Moriarty was on his back, but we all have enemies. We could have solved this problem together." tears started rolling down my cheeks and there was no way of stopping them from falling onto the hardwood floor, but my therapist didn't mind.

"We all must cope with the death of a loved one, John. It's part of the grieving process. It's a natural thing to feel confused, angry, and depressed."

It hasn't been long since I visited Sherlock's grave. I went there last week, sat down in the soft, green grass which felt more like being in a park with Sherlock than a cemetery in which Sherlock lay underground. I talked to him for hours and hours about cases I found, one that he could have solved, and about our adventures through London. It hadn't been hard to identify which ones he liked; after all, he was just in my mind. I knew I was talking to myself, but one part of me just held a tiny glimpse of hope that Sherlock could be listening.

After the therapist, I went to Sherlock's grave and bought some fresh daisies to put on his tombstone. As I sat down to eat some fish and chips next to Sherlock's grave I saw Harry walking towards me in the distance. Would she be paying tribute to Sherlock, by any chance? No, I don't think so; she barely knew him, other than what I've told her about and what she read in the papers. She sat next to me and placed her head on Sherlock's tombstone.

"Hey, Johnny, how you holding up?" she asked.

'What a rhetorical question, I'm kind of doing terrible, can't you see, Harry? I'm losing my mind, do you know that? It's hard for me to think, act, speak, and even sleep without Sherlock. Can't you see?!' Obviously I never said those words aloud, but Harry always knew how I felt. She gave me a pitied smile and then stood up to leave.

"Sherlock told me to tell you he likes daisies, and you should bring them next week." and Harry walked off.

I stared as she went, then took a good look at Sherlock's tombstone. 'Could it really be that Harry knew Sherlock? It's that...no, that's not possible, Sherlock is dead. Sherlock is dead. Sherlock is-' I just couldn't possibly think that Sherlock Holmes is still alive. I got up after I finished my chips and started walking towards the front gates. Then I spotted Harry with someone, a tall, slender man who closely resembled Sherlock. I started to run towards the gate, but my cane was slowing me down and by the time I reached the copper gate, both Harry and the Sherlock look-alike were gone.

#IBELIEVEINSHERLOCKHOLMES

"Mission was a success." Harry claimed and grabbed Sherlock's arm to lead him out of the cemetery before John was able to catch up.

Sherlock clasped his hands together and even though he was being pulled by Harry, he stayed firmly in place for about two minutes just watching John at his grave. Harry pulled as hard as she could until they were out of the premises of the cemetery. They walked until their feet gave out and stumbled into a three star diner. Harry decided it was time to eat, and it took an eternity for her to come convince Sherlock of the same thing.

When they were finally seated in a plush, blue and green booth with a checkered table, they opened their sixties themed menus and Sherlock found something he just had to try.

"Hmmmm, look Harry, honey covered omelet with blueberry and honey pancakes with turkey bacon." Harry looked at him and laughed softly, almost surprised that Sherlock was so fascinated with honey.

"You really like honey, don't you, Sher?" Sherlock looked up at Harry, he looked like a puppy who got bullied to many times and kicked even more.

"I guess" he replied shyly, almost as if he was a child who took too many sweets from a candy jar and was now being reprimanded for it.

"Hey, Sher, wanna play a game? It's called Deductions. John taught me to play in rehab. It's super fun and I always win." She smiled triumphantly at Sherlock and Sherlock just smiled mischievously.

"Well then, let's play. I'll be sure to go easy on you" Sherlock replied.

Harry didn't need Sherlock's help, and after a few minutes their food came and Harry had won twice. They ate and got back to Harry's place as the sun was setting over the London sky.

They decided it was time to go to bed and Harry went to go change her clothes and brush her teeth, as Sherlock got into his pajamas and took out his toothbrush and went to the bathroom. As soon as Harriet Watson was asleep, Sherlock took out his sketch pad and began so sketch John sitting across from Sherlock's grave over and over again until the sun rose and shone through the curtained windows across Sherlock's sofa bed.

Harry walked out of her room in a sleepy trance in a long Superman shirt and Batman shorts. She tried to take out some orange juice from the top shelf in her new fridge. She tried to grasp it, but all she caught was air. Sherlock stretched out a hand with some pulpy orange juice from behind her and put the juice box back.

"Sorry, got to it first, now shall be begin today's schedule?"

Harry got some cereal from the pantry a bowl from the dishwasher and clumsily put orange juice inside her bowl with cereal and started to eat, she knew it wasn't milk, but at this early in the morning, she quite frankly didn't care.

"Okay, what's our schedule?" she asked and Sherlock, too disgusted by the orange juice cereal, just looked at her in disgusted shock.

Harry mocked his face and Sherlock snapped out of his emotions and said, making sure he was very clear, "First, we will go to my brother, Mycroft, and pull in some favors to get you a job. Then we will eat lunch, Mycroft isn't easy to persuade, and after we will go to 221B Baker Street to see Mrs. Hudson and drink some tea after she gets back from the shock." Harry looked like she was listening intently, but she didn't care the most minimum.

A few Hmmmmmmmm's here and there and then when Harry understood what Sherlock had said she was confused about one thing "What about John? Is he not going to know your alive today?" Sherlock shook his head ferociously in a big 'NO NO NO' expression.

"John Watson can't know I'm alive, not yet."