"Just don't be…you know…dead." There were so many other things he wanted to say. To share the smallest details of his life. It's funny despite how much they had talked how little they had known each other, but John knew the most important thing: Sherlock had made him feel alive.
The last two years had been more exciting than any war. Adrenalin had been coursing through his veins each morning he had woken up; the anticipation of what their day might bring.
Mrs. Hudson had said it hadn't been decent that they had enjoyed the sickest cases, but fuck decent, he needed it like air in his lungs.
As he turned away from the grave, his limping returned with a vengeance.