Alone With You

Effect: After the Fall

"This phone call, it's… it's my note. That's what people do, don't they? Leave a note…" Sherlock said his voice thick with tears as he looked down on John and McKinleigh from the roof of St. Barts.

"Leave a note when?" John asked, all of them already knowing the answer.

"Good-bye, John, Mackie…" Sherlock threw his phone down, raised his arms and took his last step off of the roof.

The next week was a blur. After the funeral, John, McKinleigh, and Mrs. Hudson sat in Mrs. Hudson's upstairs flat, with untouched mugs of tea in front of each of them.

"I hate him." McKinleigh whispered to no one in particular.

"No, you don't." John answered.

"I do. I hate him." McKinleigh closed her eyes. "He left me, John. He left us. And he did it knowing exactly how it feels to be left. It's not fair."

"Yes, well, Sherlock never really took everyone else's feelings into consideration." Mrs. Hudson said, trying not to cry again.

"Auntie, don't. He knew exactly how he felt when I left, so why would he take the easy road? It's not fair!"

John stood up abruptly and held his hand. "Come on, Mack. Let's go."

"I don't want to go anywhere." She pouted.

"Take. My. Hand." John said, forcefully, staring at McKinleigh. "Please..."

She let out a sigh, but obeyed, wrapping her hand around John's and standing up. He led her down the stairs until they reached her own flat. He opened the door and led her to her bedroom, sitting her down on her bed. He walked into her bathroom and began to fill up the bathtub. Walking back out, he looked at the mess of a girl. He shook his head, silently cursing Sherlock, and made his way to her dresser, pulling out pajamas and underwear for her.

"Where are your towels?" John asked, setting the clothes on the bathroom counter. "Never mind, found them. Come on, then." He said, as he turned off the water in the bathtub.

McKinleigh slowly walked into the bathroom and saw what John had done. "Thank you." She whispered.

"Now, you take a soak, I don't care how long you're in here. I mean, too long and I might have to come in and check on you. But I'll be out in the living room when you get done." McKinleigh just nodded and closed her bathroom door behind John as he walked out.

As he promised, John was sat in the living room waiting. "Thank you, John. I really needed that." McKinleigh said as she walked in.

"Everybody does every once in a while." He checked his watch and shook his head. "Well, I guess I better be going so you can get to bed." He stood up and grabbed his jacket.

"You've been staying in a hotel." McKinleigh stated, biting her lip.

"Oh… Yes… Well, I just can't stay in the flat right now, you know…"

"I understand. Uhm, look, don't take this the wrong way, but stay here for a while; as long as you want, actually. That way neither of us has to be alone. I'll sleep on the couch and you can take my bed."

"I couldn't possibly…" John began, but McKinleigh shook her head. "Are you sure?"

"I don't want to stay here by myself and you can't possibly afford a hotel for much longer."

John chuckled. "Well, you aren't wrong there." He nodded slowly. "Alright, let me go get my things and I'll check out of the hotel tomorrow. Thank you."

"You're welcome." McKinleigh smiled a small, sad, half-smile.


You've been gone a month. Feels like longer. I don't know why I'm texting you. It's not like you'll answer. –MK

We visited you today. They finally got your headstone up. Auntie started going off about your bad traits (which happen to add up when you start to list them) in an attempt to not be upset. I yelled at you, told you I hated you. John told you to stop being dead. But people can't just stop being dead. –MK

Could you do that for us? Please, stop being dead. –MK

We need you. –MK

John has been staying in the flat with me. He sleeps in my bed with me now, but don't worry. My couch isn't very comfortable to sleep on and neither one of us likes being alone. He likes to cuddle in his sleep, but that's about as far as it's gone. –MK

I don't think of John that way. He's like a brother. Promise. I couldn't do that to you. -MK

We miss you. –MK

I miss you. –MK

We left you a cuppa on the table in your flat. You know, in case you get thirsty. We're headed to bed. Goodnight. –MK

I guess you weren't thirsty. Cup is still full this morning. –MK

It's been three months. I think we're going to stop leaving you tea now… -MK

Not yet, though. John thought maybe we should leave you a cigarette. –MK

Oh, I started smoking again. Did I tell you? John doesn't approve, really, but he understands. –MK

Did you just open my text message? It says it's been read. Maybe my phone is finally kicking the bucket. There's no way you read my text. –MK

Well, cigarette is still here. I guess you didn't want it. –MK

John and I got in a fight over the damn cigarette. I can't stop crying. –MK

Over you, not John and the cigarette. –MK

Okay, can a phone be wrong twice? Or is someone really opening these messages? –MK

Sherlock? –MK

John's asleep, but I'm sneaking out to leave you another cigarette. Just in case… It's been a month since we last tried. -MK

Cigarette is gone. John has no idea I left one. Did you take it? –MK

You couldn't have taken it. I don't even know why I'm still texting you. –MK

Is it too late to tell you that I truly do love you? –MK

I'm leaving you another cigarette tonight. –MK

It's gone again. What's going on? –MK

How can 6 months go by so fast? I mean, really. –MK

I think I'll start leaving one every night. The tea doesn't seem to be wanted, but the cigarette is. –MK

John joined me on my cigarette break tonight. He didn't smoke, just sat with me. Today is 8 months. My smoke break was extra-long tonight. –MK

10 months today. Things are getting easier. –MK

Well, kind of easier. John still sleeps next to me, though. –MK

Today has been a year. This is the last text message I'm going to send you. Cut myself off cold turkey. It's for the best. –MK

I love you, Sherlock Holmes. Good-bye. –MK

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