John Sat down on the big bench they had put there specifically for him. It was lovely and white, and had flower engravings along the sides. John Sipped at his coffee and sighed an emotionless sigh. There were birds everywhere, and the sun was shining brightly, which is such a rare and treasured moment.
"Lovely". John whispered taking a sip.
Sherlock's grave reflected the lovely sky above in great detail.
"I suppose you may not care as much. I'm sure you'd at least appreciate it." John continued.
It had been a week since. . .well. John came everyday. Sometimes twice.
When questioned why he did this he simply replied: "To talk to him. I don't want him to get bored." before shuffling off.
The Doctor visited the day after Sherlock's death and sat with John by the grave for a total of five hours in complete silence. John never asked him to go back and save sherlock because he knew the doctor well, and if he could, he would've done it. Before the Doctor left he pulled john in an embrace and said simply "This only get easier. Maybe by such a small amount that it's hard to tell but it does. Time has a funny way of surprising us." And left.
John now sat sipping coffee, waiting for the Doctors statement to come true. For it to be easier. This was actually the third time he came today, as he had been told that there would be other visitors for Sherlock.
And sure enough, Sam and Dean, with solemn faces came strolling up to the grave. They honestly visited quite often due to the fact that there were no demons or monsters to worry about. They came up and stood in front of the grave next to John and said nothing, waiting for John to speak first.
It was several minutes before he did.
"Suicide of Fake Genius." John muttered after a few minutes of silence. "Right across the newspaper, too big to miss." John said without emotion. Sam and Dean were silent.
"He wanted it though." John muttered. "He wanted people to think he was a fake."
"We know he wasn't." Dean said softly.
John blinked. "He wanted me to think he was."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.
"He told me to tell anyone who would listen, that it was all a trick." John said, his voice trembling. "A trick."
Sam and Dean sat on either side of him quietly, Johns eyes filling with tears as he muttered "A bloody trick. The bastard."
