Disclaimer: I do not own BBC Sherlock.

A/N: Will continue if anyone reviews/favourites/follows or does anything to let me know they want me to continue.

No ring. I wriggle my fingers, trying to feel the cold metal, but no, the ring was gone. Gone. I violently struggle to free myself from the ropes and yelling

"Mrs. Hudson. Untie me at once! I swear I will not kill myself!"

Mrs. Hudson helps me untie my ropes and I look at my hand. She was right. No ring. I frantically search in between the sheets and under the bed. Still no ring. My heart that had been racing, stops suddenly. I feel numb and darkness surrounds me once again.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

I wake up again, in the middle of the night. And, my heart thumps loudly when I see a silhouette near the door. The shadow moved closer and I realized who it was. It wasn't Sherlock. It was Molly. Molly Hooper. How irrelevant.

"John" she begins. Her face is covered with tears. Sherlock's loss hit her too, then.

"Spare me the lecture, Molly. I most certainly did not hallucinate the event!" I yell. My anger at Sherlock for making me doubt what happened was killing me.

"John" she starts in a soothing voice. I completely detest the voice. It was the same tone in which Ella talked to me. I don't reply. Frankly, I was too weak after I yelled at her.

"John, Sherlock…"her voice broke, tears streaming her face once again. I feel guilty for shouting at her. She was going through the same thing. I realize Molly and I were in the same boat. Only difference was that was there for me while there was no one for her. I feel very sorry for her.

"Molly" I said in a low voice, "I know you loved Sherlock too. I'm sorry. But, I'm telling you, he's alive"

"John, I'm so sorry. I really am. I know you..we are going through a lot of things which we do not understand" she took a deep breath and continued,

"But Sherlock is really dead. I recognized him and he's dead, John. No matter how much I hoped, reality hit me John. Sherlock is dead. The hospital has issued a death certificate."

I don't know what to say. Molly began crying again but I hardly pay attention to her. My world was collapsing. I was on the brink of insanity. I feel many things, so many things that I don't know what I feel anymore. Sherlock was here yesterday. I was surer of the fact than my own name. I don't understand. Forget understand, I didn't even know what was happening to me. But, then, something hits me.

"Molly" I say. She turns, her eyes fearful. "It has all been done before. Remember how Adler faked her death?" I know I'm grasping at straw but I don't care. The other alternative cannot be true.

"John" she says and her voice breaks down. She tries talking but can't. She steadies herself and replies,

"Adler's head was bashed up. Sher..his head was fine. There wasn't a problem identifying him" she said.

I hit a dead-end. No other possibility occurs to me. A fear that Molly was right starts creeping in.

"No. No. No. No no no. Please Molly, tell me he's alive. Please tell me he'll be back after three years. Please, Molly. Please, I'm begging you" I plead with her with tears in my eyes.

Her face completely morphs.

"I can't, John" she says, and runs out of my room. However, I could still hear her sobbing outside my room. It all felt unimportant. Was I really mad? Was yesterday a hallucination? Was it my mind's way of recreating my hopes, recreating my dreams, recreating all that could have been? For the first time, I'm glad they've tied me down.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

It was the day of my discharge. Also, the day of Sherlock's….funeral. I did not want to go. Going would mean that Sherlock was dead. That it was over. That what happened that night was a hallucination. Some small part of me wanted to kill myself, but a bigger part wanted me to wait. Wait for three more years. Three years after which I could kill myself. I smile, for the first time in days. In three years, either he was going to join me or I was going to join him. I attend the funeral in this maniac mindset.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

I'm here because…..

What happened, John?

Sherl….

You need to get it out

My best friend..Sherlock Holmes….is dead.

The truth of the statement hits me. Hits me hard, very, very hard. I realize that Sherlock is dead. What happened afterwards was indeed a hallucination. I would never see Sherlock again. We would never run in the streets of London. There would be no more entries on my blog. There would be no more deductions. No more Mycroft. No more dead bodies. No more shooting the walls. No more experiments. No heads in the fridge. No more life.

I decide to kill myself, for real this time. My gun was at 221 B. I decide I would do it there. It would be more symbolic. I leave Ella, telling her I would visit Sherlock's grave and say the things I didn't say. She smiles, believing me.

I walked out the door and something made me stop right dead in my tracks. Even in the drenching rain, I spotted a big graffitied "3" on the wall opposite to Ella's office. My eyes bulge out, my hand shivers and I fall. I don't know what's real or not anymore.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

I wake up, this time in a new apartment, and there's Mycroft sitting opposite to me.

"John" he says.

Mycroft was the last person I wanted to see. Especially when he could deduce that I wanted to kill myself. Well if he noticed it, he didn't show it.

"What do you want, Mycroft?" I ask roughly. Mycroft was the reason of Sherlock's death. I hadn't forgotten that. I contemplate hitting him but I was bound. Again.

"John, I have only one piece of advice. Wait. Don't kill yourself now. You hallucinated that Sherlock asked you to wait. Do that. Don't kill yourself now. You are not rational enough to decide right now"

I knew that with Mycroft around, there would be no way to do what I wanted. I nod, my plan still in my head. In three years, I would join Sherlock, no matter what Mycroft did. The time-limit was to set matters straight with my sister and my parents. I wouldn't do the same thing Sherlock did to me. I nod, and Mycroft seems satisfied. He leaves.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

You told me once. That you weren't a hero. There were times when I didn't even think you were human, but let me tell you this. You were. The best man…the most human human being I've ever known and no-one will ever convince me that you told me a lie. So…there. I said it. I was so alone, and I owe you so much.

Thank you, Sherlock. This is my way of thanking you.

But, please, there's just one more thing, one more thing. One more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't. be. Dead.

Or I will be. Soon.

Would you just do that to me? Just stop it. Stop this.

Please stop this madness, Sherlock. I don't even know what to believe in right now.

A/N: That's the end of Reichenbach. If you want the story to be canon-compliant, you can stop here. You can believe that John hallucinated. However, if you want to believe that Mycroft intervened, just let me know so that I'll continue the fic. It's all upto you.