Hey my name is Macy I'm xxCharmspeakerxx's friend and since she doesn't use this site anymore she's allowed me to use it so drop a review and I hope you like my story that I've written. I don't own any characters in the story by the way. Love you!
It's been three months since Sherlock faked his death, three months too long. It's been three months watching John's heart breaking into pieces finally understanding the true meaning of heart break. It's been three months since John gave up everything and just wanted to sleep for the whole day. It's been three months since John was diagnosed with depression and it's been three months since John has decided to move on.
Sherlock felt terrible for what he did to his best friend and in those three months, he's hated himself for what he's done to John. Sherlock gave John depression, Sherlock made John take drugs for his depression, Sherlock made John's heart break, Sherlock made John so anti-social that he won't even say hello to Mrs Hudson.
Sherlock watched John all day everyday hoping that he would do something to cure his boredom but all John did was lie on the couch in a ball circling stories in the paper or dress in a suit and visit his fake grave. John did not cry once and Sherlock was proud of him for that but he was also confused on why John didn't let out his emotions.
In those three months, Mycroft would visit John each day trying to get him to give into his offer. Money for information, John would never approve. John never really replied to his brother, but at times Mrs Hudson would have to physically push his brother out of John's flat. Bless her soul, bless Mrs Hudson's soul. One time –the only time John spoke to his brother– was when Mrs Hudson was telling Sherlock's brother to get out. Mycroft yelled at Mrs Hudson to shut her God damn trap up. That's when John lifted himself from his couch, jerked to Mycroft, grabbed the colour of his shirt and pinned him to the wall.
"If you ever yell at Mrs Hudson or threaten her I will get a knife and carve your heart out of your body." John threatened in a quiet hushed voice. "Do you understand, Mycroft?" As Mycroft left, John threw a vase point blank at him so that he would hurry up and get out of his flat.
Since then, Mycroft has set up cameras around the house keeping an eye on his best friend who basically did nothing every day. Sherlock is pretty sure that John noticed the camera after a day or two after they were put up but he also knew that he didn't care if anyone was watching him.
At night, Sherlock would stand by the widow just watching his best friend sleep soundless and almost dead-like. Every night, Sherlock was tempted to go to the window and check up on John, making sure he's alright emotionally even he already knows that he isn't, the other reason is because he hated seeing his best and only friend emotionally and physically drained from his soul.
Each morning, Mrs Hudson would make John take his medicine after he had his breakfast with a glass of water and then another glass of coffee. She would make him breakfast, lunch and dinner since she didn't trust John with a knife in his state. When Mrs Hudson wasn't in the room, John would quickly dump the food out of his window giving it to the alley cats and he would also pour the water down the drain and lay back on the couch resting for another nap. Each night before bed, Mrs Hudson prayed to God and his angels to keep John safe.
Three more months has past and John is getting a taxi to his new job at the local market. Sherlock was still watching his best friend from a safe distance, reading his every emotion that he portrayed. John had trust issues and yes, Sherlock knew that from the first day he met him. Each day, John would small talk to costumers, press a fake smile on his face and hope that the day would end quickly for him which it never did. Sherlock knew that John was just getting worse and worse by each day and thank God, he quit that job after two weeks.
Mrs Hudson offered John a job at his flat; keep it clean and you get one hundred pounds a week but knowing John, he stubbornly refused. Mrs Hudson would slip one hundred pounds under random objects but make sure that they were noticeable for John to see and take. Each time John found money, his heart would break even more. Sherlock read his eyes and all he saw was two pair of very sad eyes which were still saddening.
One night, John was all alone. He declined to go to Mrs Hudson's granddaughter's party and Mycroft wasn't going to come by any time. Sherlock could see that John was on the breaking point of his emotions and he needed to get rid of them quickly but knowing John, he wouldn't think about his emotions because he's an idiot.
John reached under his bed and picked up a grey metal box made in the nineties which has been used for a very long time. John opened the box and took a photo out of it, just staring at the photo, just that one photo. Tears start dropping onto the photo one by one, just each drop on the photo it landed. John hadn't cried for months, he didn't cry at Sherlock's grave when he visited, he didn't cry at Sherlock's funeral, John didn't even cry when Sherlock jumped from the building. John didn't cry once until now. Nine months later and John has finally let his tear spill from inside. John brought his knees to his chest and rocked his body back and forwards screaming out Sherlock's name hoping that he's come and rescue the day once again, but Sherlock knew that he couldn't do that to John again.
John just kept on crying and crying and crying like he couldn't stop crying. Sherlock felt a build-up of emotions filling his gut and that strange lump in his throat that you get when you feel upset; yeah Sherlock had that lump in his throat. An hour past and John was still just rocking his body just crying with the picture in his hand. Sherlock covered his ears but that just made John's crying and his pleading just louder and louder then what he could handle. Next thing Sherlock knew, he was silently crying along with John wanting to call his name out but he knew that that would just hurt his best friend even more.
"John . . .?" Mrs Hudson came in to see John on the floor still rocking his body back and forwards. The picture was facing down and his hands were on his ears like Sherlock's were. Mrs Hudson called a doctor while trying to calm John down. "Hi, how to try to get a person to calm down while they're having a break down?" Pause. "Most likely a mental or emotional, can people have both?" Small pause. "Okay, thank you. Bye." Mrs Hudson hung up the phone and hugged John who surprising hugged back. She tried her best to calm him down every way possible but nothing was working. About half an hour later, another person came in with a brief case in hand. The guy opened the brief case and injected something into John's blood stream. After about five minutes, John calmed down and stopped crying and was soon asleep in Mrs Hudson's arms. Mycroft came about half an hour later with a gun in hand, but made up a story that he heard that John was in trouble. Bastard, Mycroft was.
The next morning, John woke up crying. He didn't know how he got into his bed or when he fell asleep but he didn't care. All he wanted to do was be with Sherlock. John turned over and felt weight pushing the bed down. "How are you, honey?" Mrs Hudson asked giving him a cup of coffee. John didn't reply or take the coffee; he just stared at Mrs Hudson trying to speak but nothing came out of his mouth. Mrs Hudson smiled and placed the coffee on the bedside table and left. Once Mrs Hudson had left his room, John pulled out a gun and checked if it was filled up with bullets. Sherlock ran up a tree that was planted behind another person's flat and started to climb up the tree. Sherlock didn't want his best friend leaving without knowing that he was loved by everyone, by him.
"Goodbye, Mrs Hudson." Sherlock heard John say. Sherlock jumped from the tree and started running to John's window. "I'm going to miss you, so very much."
Sherlock climbed up into the window and rolled inside. "John! Please stop!" Sherlock looked up to see John packing a back pact with wide eyes. John walked back into the corner of his room shocked by seeing Sherlock trying to calm him down. "John, it's alright, it's just me, Sherlock."
John jumped at Sherlock, wrapping his legs around his waist and kissing him deeply. They both smiled into the kiss and didn't let go of each other for a long time. After ten minutes, Sherlock and John were laying on John's bed just cuddling in complete and peaceful silence.
Once Sherlock figured out that John had fallen asleep again, he looked down at the picture and saw that it was a picture of them kissing. It was a close up picture and you could see their smile. Sherlock smiled as he remembered their first kiss together. A group of them were playing this strange game where you had to keep a certain card on your lips then give it to the next person without using your hands. Sherlock received the card and as he went to put it onto John's mouth he dropped the card and kissed John instead. Let's just say that Mrs Hudson was really happy that day and ever since then she's been happy when she sees them spending time together when they're not on a case.
Now Sherlock has his best friend/ his lover and John finally had his mad man again. Everything was just amazing. Two weeks later, John and Sherlock were solving cases together again and everyone was shocked when Sherlock arrived hand in hand with John into the police station. Their first case since Sherlock's fake death was the best case, because that case was getting John better and that Sherlock had a lot of trouble with but it also went like a summer breeze.
The end
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