John awoke in a cold sweat, panting and shouting. He was calling Sherlocks name over and over again. He soon heard the now familiar footsteps of his carer running down the hallway to his room. He had been put into the St Andrews care centre a year after Sherlock had jumped off St Barts, and been there for three years now. It was a house for nutters, and he had been out into it by the people who held him dear, Mrs Hudson, Lestrade and Mycroft. They had decided it would be for 'his own good', and he almost agreed. Ever since that terrible day, Johns thoughts and memories had been scarred, he had been getting nightmares every time he had gone to sleep, but recently, they had turned into dreams full of passion and love, yet John was not sure which was worse. These new dreams only made John miss Sherlock more.
His carer asked him about his dream and he told her everything. He told her about the case, the drunken sex, the holiday and even that Sherlock had proposed to him and he had accepted. By the time he had finished explaining the dream, John had broken down and tears were falling down his face. He knew he would never get Sherlock back, and he wished that he could see him, just one more time, but there was no undoing the past, and no one could tell what the future held for him.
Hey guys thanks for reading this little story, I hope you enjoyed it! Sorry I made it sadder at the end, but I thought it would be a good twist and an alternate ending ( I would never actually want it to happen of course...!) so thanks for reading, please review and yeah! Bye!