I knew it the second that I woke up; it felt different in the room. I felt Sherlock laying on me but he was heavier, colder. I felt the lump in my throat that grew immediately and the stabbing in my heart. I didn't want to look but I couldn't do anything else. I shook his arm and called his name incessantly, but he didn't rouse. I knew he wouldn't.

"Sherlock….Sherlock!" I cried out into the emptiness as I shook his limp body. The tears were openly rolling down my cheeks now. My voice was hardly distinguishable.

I shook him as hard as I could. "Sherlock! You have to wake up, you have to!" I demanded, my voice shaking. "You can't be dead! You just can't…..I need you"

I hoped that he could hear me wherever he was; that he could hear me from the pit of death and that my voice and my desperation for him would be enough to pull him from there. But it isn't; he still remains unmoving and still.

I pulled him up to me so my face was against his and I cried. I cried until my whole body hurt. That part of me that was him is gone now completely and it had left me with a huge hole; how it could be possible to hurt this much and not die was a mystery to me. Nobody should ever have to suffer as much as I was in that moment.

I pull back from him and study him; his face is peaceful and the one thing that I'm thankful for is the fact that he died in his sleep. It must have been peaceful for him and I couldn't be more thankful for that. I put my hand to his face and ran my fingers along his cheek. I put my forehead against his. "Sherlock, how am I supposed to live without you?" I moaned. "Why didn't you take me with you?"

….

It's not easy to live as part of a person. Endless pain and emptiness plague you until that is all there is. Everything is meaningless; I give up my job at the hospital because I simply can't manage to leave the flat. I can't eat, I can't get decent enough to go out in public; I stay in all the time in my pajamas and Sherlock's dressing gown. The only time I leave is late at night when I go to Sherlock's grave. I go there often, though I don't know why. He's not really there and it always makes me feel worse, but I still go.

My heart pain continues to get worse all the time, making me weaker and weaker. I sleep more and more of the day. I can't sleep my bedroom, and I haven't since he left. Every time I go to his bed, curl up in the dressing gown and go to sleep, drinking in his scent that gets fainter and fainter every day. The day that I couldn't smell it all anymore, I cried.

I don't know how long he's been gone; time doesn't mean anything anymore. One day I think about going to his grave but I can't; my heart hurts so badly and I'm too weak to go anywhere. I drag myself to the indent in Sherlock's bed where I spend so much time. I flop down on the bed as my pain becomes worse. It's like someone is stabbing my heart with a knife and I just wish it would stop. It goes on and on; it's the worst pain I've ever felt. Much worse than when I actually had a heart attack. I feel my body wanting to tear its self away from the pain. It goes on for a long time before, eventually it stops. I'm so relieved that it stops; I open my eyes and all I can see is light around me.

I was confused because it doesn't make sense; it had just been night right? Who the hell knows anymore; I've lost all sense of time. I don't even know if it's been a week, month or year since Sherlock's death. How would I know if it was night or day?

But then I see him…..Sherlock is standing a few feet in front of me, smiling and vibrant. How can it be? Maybe I'm crazy, maybe I'm mad; I don't really care if it means I get to see him. I feel myself shake at the sight of him….I've missed him so much.

"Sherlock…..?" I manage to stutter out. My voice is so scratchy and raw from lack of use "you're here?"

He smiles at me "Of course I am. Where did you expect me to be?" he asks.

"You're dead…." I say, sorrow crushing me. "You died and you left me"

Sherlock smiles and then tisks at me. "Dear Dr. Watson, you didn't really think I'd leave you forever?" he asks.

He holds out a hand, beckoning me to come to him. Instead, I run at him and throw my arms around him, burying my face in his chest. I feel whole and complete; and for once, in a great long while, my heart doesn't hurt.

Well, that's the end guys. Please dont kill me :) they were together again in the end as it should be