John locked the door of 221b Baker Street for the last time, posting the keys back through for Mrs Hudson to pick up later. He had of course left a note explaining his actions.

''Dear whoever reads this, I can't do it anymore, I've tried for 3 long years I've tried to forget about him to no avail. He was my friend, my best friend, and he was the one who pulled me through, I never did tell anyone this but the day I met Sherlock I was planning to kill myself. There wasn't anything for me, I was living alone in a bedsit, I knew hardly anyone in London, and the people I did know didn't care very much, but then I was introduced to Sherlock, and everything changed. I lost my limp, there was the excitement back in my life, and now it's gone again I'm going back to how I felt before I met him. Back to the life with no use, back to living alone, back to…nothing. I hate how I dampen the mood anywhere I go, it's unfair on everyone else, and you've all moved on, it's unfair I bring the memories back. So it's for the best if I go ahead with this, I would just like to thank Mrs Hudson, Lestrade, Molly, and even Mycroft for putting up with me for this long, but now you can live your life without my constantly bringing up Sherlock whenever I see you.

I'm happy with the fact I got to prove his innocence, so I can leave this world a little happy at least.

Yours sincerely,

John H. Watson.''

….

John walked the all familiar route to St Barts, he had been here many times since Sherlocks death, but he'd never gone to the roof, so something new today. He made sure he went a way were he could avoid any conversations with Molly, and headed up the stairs.

Sherlock arrived at 221b, speech prepared; he knocked on the door and waited. He waited for 5 minutes, nothing. John weren't usually out at this time, so he knew something weren't right. He hated that he had to do this , but he had to ring Mycroft. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and dialled.

''Hello.'' Mycroft answered.

''Where's John, he's not at his flat.'' Sherlock began walking down the road, maybe he'd gone to tescos.

''Let me check.'' Mycroft walked across to his desk, and pulled up the various amount of security camera's on his computer. ''Ahh…''

''What?'' Sherlock was beginning to get worried now.

''He's at St Barts, I suggest you hurry.'' And with that Mycroft hung up.

….

Sherlock ran, he ran as fast as he could manage, taxis would be to slow right now; he needed to get to John.

John stood on the ledge of the roof, staring down at the spot where he saw he friend dying. He wiped a tear from his cheek, and thought of any possible reasons to live. He thought of Sherlock, he was the only thing he could think of right now. But he wasn't here, he wasn't here to stop him, Sherlock was dead, and John had only just accepted this. He had always, always hung on to the hope Sherlock would come waltzing back into his life as though nothing had happened, but now he knew this was never going to happen, and he couldn't live with that.

Sherlock burst through the doors of St Barts, avoided Molly's hello's and headed straight for the set of stairs he walked up 3 years ago. He saw John straight away, he was standing in the exact same spot Sherlock was when he jumped. He decided to approach with caution, not wanting to shock John, it might cause him to fall.

John took a deep breath.

''John!'' Sherlock screamed, as he watched him step over the edge.

John heard something, Sherlock's voice; Sherlock knew he was coming to join him. It was all going to be ok now, everything was going to fine. I'm coming for you Sherlock.

…...

Well I thought about doing a happy ending, but no. I thought this could be a sad story. Because I'm full of sadness lately. This is probably just adding to it but meh.

I'm sorry if you were expecting this to end happily. MWAHAHA. No, I made myself sad now.

Au reviour.