Sherlock spent a year in the fog. On the anniversary of John ceasing to exist, if you could call it that, seeing as it was hardly cause for celebration, Sherlock finally looked at the list Mycroft had given him months ago. The list of people who had received parts of John to hold inside them forever, to carry where ever they went. Sherlock hated them for that, for taking that away from him. He wanted John all to himself, or at least part of him to have near. But nothing was fair any more.
He looked at the list of people John had saved, and made a note to add it to the other list of people John had saved before. There were so many of them.
But for now, he crumpled it up and threw it across the room.
A package arrived that day. Sherlock eyed it suspiciously, wary of its contents, but finally took it up to the flat to open.
He was glad he did, because inside was the best thing anyone could have given him. John.
Not all of him, because he was scattered through people all over the country, but the part that mattered the most. The skull.
Sherlock collapsed into John's chair and blinked back his blurry vision.
"That's a skull." "Friend of mine."
Indeed it was.
Sherlock picked up the phone and dialled one of the numbers on the list.
They met in a cafe. He was young and healthy looking. They both knew who he had to thank for that.
Conversation was light, and Sherlock was civil.
It was nearing the end of the meal (Sherlock had forced himself to eat) when Sherlock asked him.
"I was wondering if you could do something for me. It's not a lot, but it is a bit... personal," Sherlock explained, pleading with his eyes for him to agree.
"Anything," the young man breathed.
And so Sherlock pulled out his stethoscope, John's stethoscope, and placed it to the man's chest over John's heart.
Sherlock closed his eyes, and for a minute, he could pretend it was John.
And when he opened them, the world didn't seem as bad.
Because even though John had been wrong, that he had not been fine despite his claims, Sherlock still might be able to make it.
I'll be fine, he told himself.
And he could almost believe it.