John sits silent, staring, at the empty chair. All hope has faded. He is hollow, bereft.
He cannot move for numbness, hardly breathes. He cannot cry.
A cascade of memories stutter through his mind, all Sherlock - Sherlock playing the violin, Sherlock, hands folded in careful thought, Sherlock drinking tea, Sherlock leaping from the chair as he solves another problem, Sherlock curled up on the chair, dozing, happy in the aftermath of a case, Sherlock frantic with excitement, Sherlock bored, grouchy, laughing, teasing John, Sherlock -
John takes a breath, hiding his head in his hands. For a long while, he sobs.