Thank you so much for all your kind reviews! Most I've ever received! w Makes me very happy everytime I get a new one. Sorry this chapter is so short. It's more a snippet of life.

"Do you still visit his grave?"

"When I can find the time, I don't know, it sort of helps to talk out my problems with him. That's ok, right?" Skull just attracts attention. Easier talking to his grave instead of a skull, through.

"It's great John. You've been doing really well."

"No I haven't, not really." She gave him a sympathetic smile. Which he hated. Always thinking she knew best. Maybe she did, about other people. He knew she didn't totally believe him, about Sherlock, but screw her, he did and she damn well would never convince him otherwise.

"Have you gone back to your blog?"

"What? God no, thats what was the cause of this whole thing."

"It would help, John, to write down what happens to you. How you feel. You said you still had a lot of old cases you hadn't yet written up. You should. You don't have to write up what happened just yet. But you told me that telling Mary some of your "adventures" helped you deal with some of the pain. Made him come back to life in your mind."

"No, no I can't.. I just..if I never wrote that bloody thing, none of this would have happened."

"You don't know that John." Neither do you.

"I guess we'll never know, will we?"

"Have you told her yet?"

"About Sherlock?.. No..I don't want to, she think's he sounds wonderful and impossible and can't wait to meet him, I don't have the heart to tell her, that he's dead. Besides, when I'm with her I can at least pretend." A small sad smile appeared on the corner of his lips.

"You'll have to tell her one day."

"Yeah, I know."

John knelt in front of the grave, closing the manilla folder shut and placing it beside him. "It helps, reading these out to you. God knows Im thankful Lestrade still sends them and I have been some help to him. Medical wise however, with the&bodies. He's pleased with my work." John grinned and sighed.

"He's a rock. He's..a really good friend, Sherlock. We still go out for drinks every week, hang out every so often. His wife left him for that P.E teacher. Poor guy. We got blind stinking drunk and threw eggs and loo paper at the guys car and house. It was bloody crazy and hilarious and we both needed that outlet."

"I met this girl, Sherlock, in my new flat. I think you'd like her. She's very smart and adores mysteries, adventures stories and detective novels. She has this sense of adventure that, I don't know. I just really like her. I think she might be the one. I've been thinking of bringing her to meet you at some point, told her all about you, cept that the fact you're.. no longer with us. It's gonna break her heart but it's only fair I tell her the truth."

"Heard Molly got a new boyfriend. Some red-headed bloke. Good on her, she needs someone in her life. Anyone, frankly, is better than Jim. She comes over, every so often. We sit and have coffee. I know, pretty boring. She misses you. She gets this sad, faraway look in her eye when she talks about you. I know that look."

"It wasn't really fair on her, Sherlock, choosing St Bart's of all places Course, it wasn't bloody fair at all. Did you even think about her? Did you? Probably not, you always forgot about her. Heh, look at me, still insulting you. 'Cept you aren't returning the compliment." He stood, with the aid from his cane.

"I better get back, I don't work very often right now, but they understand. Still, need to get back into practice, literally. I promise I bring Mary, thats her name, over to meet you soon. Thanks for the help" He waved the folder and limped off.

He didn't even notice the hooded figure who had been listening from behind the tree. So he didn't see him slide to the ground, bring up his knees and clasp his hands together in front of his face. And he didn't see the stray tear either.