A/N: Thanks to SilentRaven97 for her relentless encouragement and help.

I decided to live in the flat Mycroft chose for me. There was no way I could live in 221 B after what happened. Sherlock was 221 B. I could never live there knowing that I wouldn't see Sherlock shooting the walls anymore. Or, that I would wake up at inane hours for his cases. His violin…he played beautifully when he wanted to. There would be no waking up or sleeping listening to him. I could not live there, where I'm reminded of the past I could never have again. It was too cruel and I did not want to do that to myself.

I made a fake-prescription to buy hypnotic drugs that would numb my mind. There was no way I could live through even a single day feeling like this. I started drinking too (Not as much as Harry though). To me, everyday was numb. Dull. Nothing happened to me anymore. Wake up. Go to the hospital. Do required work. No social interaction of any kind. Come home. Drink a bit. Sleep. Repeat. I live like a robot. Greg tried to talking me into going to pubs but honestly, I had no patience for that sort of thing. How boring it all seems now. Molly visits at least twice a week, checking as to how I felt. I would say I'm fine, she would act like she believed me. It felt nice, however, to know that she truly cared for me. I must do something for her before these three years end. Mrs. Hudson would call once a week. I never had the courage to take the call. That is my life now, the life of a robot. The life of the man I was before I met Sherlock. A life with no purpose. A life without meaning. Mere existence. Plowing my way through time, waiting for three more years.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHS

Today was my birthday. But honestly, who cares? People sent me cards and wishes but I just ignored them. There could be no happy in my birthday. The only gift I wanted was an essay on "Suppressed Hate Upon Close Proximity" entirely based on my friends. I wanted someone to tell me how ridiculous it was to celebrate the day of birth. How all my friends hated me. I wanted Sherlock. Wait, there's the doorbell. It's Greg. I let him in, knowing fully that he would break my door otherwise.

Well, it's good to see you Greg.

I smile and pretend. I did not want people suffering because of me. I knew, firsthand how it felt.

So, how you've been?

Wishing I was already dead. Drowning my sorrows with pills and alcohol. How about you?

Yeah. Much better. So, what's in the…?

Oh yeah, that's some stuff from my office, stuff of Sherlock's actually. Probably should've thrown it out but if…

Greg starts stuttering. I understand that he is scared as to what my reaction would be. I'm not sad actually. This was a chance to know more about Sherlock. I wouldn't have missed it for the worlds.

No, fine, yeah.

He seems reassured by my reaction.

There's something in here, wasn't sure if I should have kept it in. You remember the video message he made for your birthday? I, uh, practically threatened him.

I could see that Greg was trying to lighten the mood. I smile, knowing that I never mattered to Sherlock anyway.

This is the uncut version. It's quite funny.

He smiles, clearly relieved as to how I was taking it. I smile back, but there are a thousand emotions in the back of my head. I would see Sherlock again. I would hear him talk again. It was the best gift I could have gotten this birthday. For the first time in months, I feel a little alive again.

Maybe, I shouldn't have brought it.

Greg must have seen the internal battle going on inside of me. I try reassuring him.

No, it's okay. I probably won't even watch it.

Who was I kidding? I was dying to watch it.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHS

My hand reaches to my DVD player but I stop. I realize I would see Sherlock again. But, I would also have to deal with the fact that he isn't here anymore. Watching Sherlock talk again would take me back down to a trip in the memory lane. I would be forced to deal with the fact that life in the present is nothing compared to the life of the past. Sherlock's loss would hit me again. Was I ready to deal with that?

Unsure, I open a bottle of scotch and quench my fears. Dealing with all of it would be worth it only if I could see Sherlock again. Even if it's on a television screen. I put the DVD in and press play.

What do I…What do you want me to do at the end? Should I smile and wink? I do that sometimes, I have no idea why. People seem to like it.

For the first time after many months, my heart beats fast. Sherlock's voice and Sherlock himself….how I missed him. I wonder idly if that was why he winked and smiled when we first met. But, the majority of mind is only thinking one thing: Sherlock.

Of course I'm going to miss the dinner. There will be people! How could John be having a dinner party? All his friends hate him.

I smile. I feel a little bit like Sherlock's John, pissed at his inappropriate deductions. I feel a little angry too, at him for leaving me in this state

What was my excuse again?

You had a thing.

Yes, a thing. A thing.

You might want to elaborate.

No, no, no. Only lies have details

I shake my head. I remember the night of my hallucination. Everything was so clear, so detailed. I feel pissed at Sherlock for saying it was a lie. Especially when he was right.

Just give me a minute to figure out what I'm gonna do

I could tell you what to do. Stop being dead.

Ok.

The entire world stops. My heart stops. Time stops. I'm feeling millions of things.

Hello John. I'm sorry I'm not there at the moment, I'm very busy. However, many happy returns.

Sherlock, you bastard. I don't know what to do anymore. I don't understand as to what I should feel. Sherlock was dead, and he was still wishing me a happy birthday and apologizing for not being here. Even after being dead, he still has managed to mess up the world I created. I feel very angry, frustrated that how he could control me. How, even after his death, he still managed to have a hold on me.

And, don't worry. I'll be back with you very soon.

No, Sherlock, I'll be back with you very soon.

Will I? Doubts start creeping in. For the first time, I feel incredibly angry at myself. Angry for letting him control me. Why should I mope around for a man who never truly cared about me? Who may/may not have loved me? It was high time that I moved on. Maybe I'll ask that nurse out.

A/N: As usual, I will continue if anyone reviews/favourites/follows or does anything to let me know that they want me to continue. Your opinions are love!