Hello again.
I realized that I keep forgetting a disclaimer so: I do not own Sherlock it's property of the Mofftiss and the BBC.
So anyway Reichenfeels time y'all.
Please Review.
The beggining quote and name for this chapter was inspired by a youtube video that was created by Liisakee called Are You Watching Closely? / Sherlock (go watch it, it's good)
"Every great magic trick consists of three parts or acts. The first part is called 'The Pledge'. The magician shows you something ordinary: a deck of cards, a bird or a man. He shows you this object. Perhaps he asks you to inspect it to see if it is indeed real, unaltered, normal. But of course... it probably isn't. The second act is called 'The Turn'. The magician takes the ordinary something and makes it do something extraordinary. Now you're looking for the secret... but you won't find it, because of course you're not really looking. You don't really want to know. You want to be fooled. But you wouldn't clap yet. Because making something disappear isn't enough; you have to bring it back. That's why every magic trick has a third act, the hardest part, the part we call 'The Prestige'."
- Opening line 'The Prestige'
-One Week Later-
"Would you just turn that off?" John screamed as he packed. I'd been playing violin music to fill the gap Sherlock had left.
"How about NO?" I screamed back. John and I hadn't stopped fighting since Sherlock.
"You're just maintaining that fiction that he's still here!"
"Yeah well maybe I need to!" I was near tears. He threw the rest of his stuff into his bag, John couldn't be near Baker Street anymore without falling to pieces or getting extremely angry. I, on the other hand, couldn't leave, I was truly in denial, I still secretly slept in his bed and listened to a ton of violin music.
"Oh don't act like you two were any closer than him and I were!"
"Actually we were closer than you every fucking knew!"
"What?"
"John before his death Sherlock and I were together."
"Haha, Sherlock is incapable of those kind of feelings," I broke into tears.
"See for yourself what kind of feelings he's capable of!" I shoved my phone at him, "And I loved him back and I never got the chance to tell him!" John dropped my phone to the floor.
"We are no longer friends. I can't believe you two kept this from me!" With that John gathered his stuff and stormed out. We haven't talked since.
-Two Weeks Later-
"I saw John the other day," Mycroft twirled his umbrella, "He told me some interesting news."
"Oh did he now?" I snarled. Mycroft was on some sort of customary 'sympathy' visit which I'm pretty sure was just Greg convincing him to check up on me considering I haven't left the flat in a month and Mrs. Hudson had gone to live with her sister indefinently.
"Yes."
"Look, Mycroft, I know sentimentality isn't your thing. Hell it was barely Sherlock's, but you're here because Greg asked you to check up on me. Just leave." The truth was that I was angry at everyone these days, but denial of the death of the one you loved will do that to you.
"Well then..." Mycroft stood, "What should I report to Greg?" I stared up at him with burning eyes.
"Tell him I'm fine."
"If you believe you are then I will."
"Of course I don't believe I'm fine," he sat back down, "You know what John told you."
"Ah yes. I was hoping you could elaborate on that."
'Bastard' I thought, "I could, but I'm not sure you'll want to hear." He stood again.
"No I suppose I don't. Well, I guess I'll come up with something to tell Greg." he twirled his umbrella again and walked out. People are hateful.
-John-
*sigh* John settled into his chair. 'One month,' he thought, 'One month since I lost everything.' He looked towards the drawer in his desk, the one that held his gun, 'No he wouldn't want it that way.'
-One Month Later-
'Depression seems to be my new emotion. Not that things have gotten any better, I tried going out of the flat once. Greg made me, I swore I saw you. No more after that. - TC'
My text received no reply as usual. Texting a dead man, isn't that some form of insanity?
-Next Day-
'My friends from before tried to stop by. I don't seem to be able to talk to anyone who didn't know you anymore. - TC'
*ring* My heart lept just momentarilly, but then I discovered that it was DI Lestrade.
"Hello?"
"Two months later and the press have flocked to your door."
"What?"
"John told them about you and Sherlock."
-John-
He rolled himself out of bed nursing what seemed to be a now constant hangover. However John knew what he had done. John Watson knew that in a druken rage he had further ruined his two best friends.
-One Week Later-
'I issued a retraction today. According to the papers our relationship was just rumors. I used all my power not to cry. - TC' I hadn't stopped crying since I got back to 221B. I flopped myself onto our old bed and smelt the scarf that I kept by me at all times.
'Your things still smell of you. All cinnamon, ginger, and chemicals. I wish I was smelling it on you. - TC'
-John-
He stared at his phone. Perhaps an apology was in order, but he didn't dare pick it up and dial.
-Two Weeks Later-
'I stood on top of Bart's today. Almost jumped, I couldn't. - TC'
-John-
'She almost jumped,' John thought to himself after his call with Molly Hooper. That would have been two lost to the same fate.
-Three Months Later-
Violin music. I opened my eyes. It's been half a year and I still haven't been able to get over the hole he left.
'Must have left one of the CDs playing.' I thought as I pulled on my sweats and stepped out. I stared in disbelief at the tall figure who was making the music. A figure I recognized all to well. Shakily I tried to grab my bearings.
"Sh-sh-sh-Sherlock?"
Bum bum bum...so he's back what will happen, how will Tristan react?
