Hey everyone! Thanks for your continued interest in my drabblings and a special shout out to Ancki from Germany. Hello Ancki and let me just thank you for your fabulous review! :D Iona55, welcome to our hearty band of followers now at a grand total of 8! Whoop whoop! :)

If John couldn't feel solidness of the floor beneath him, he'd be tempted to believe he was plummeting from a rooftop. An extremely high one.

John staggered to his feet, the barn spun around him but his terrible grief anchored him down amidst the chaos.

Sherlock is dead... Sherlock is dead...Sherlock is dead...

The three fateful words circled round and round, in an endless, inescapable loop.

I failed him... I failed him... I failed him...

Cried out a second loop following the first.

None too gently he flung himself onto Sherlock again. Maddened with grief John shook him, rocking him back and forth until he could no longer see through the waterfall of tears. Slumping tearily beside him, John stared down at Sherlock. The beautiful, genuine smile on his lips looked so out of place on the face of a man who was considered a machine. A monster. A freak. It was almost scary. How could anyone be so blind? Sherlock Holmes was a great man; caring, sensitive and protective.

People chastised him for his sociopathic tendencies but it was his version of safety. Only now in Death were the walls torn down, the curtains ripped open and burnt. All those raw emotions, all that raw passion was shimmering below the surface just for John.

" Oh Sherlock..." John looked deeply into Sherlock's kindly eyes but there was no comfort hiding there. Death had stolen him from the Earth without remorse and John was so alone. All that was left was John Watson was a shadow. One that longed for the presence of his significant other. No matter the cost.

John shakily placed a hand on Sherlock's chest, on his heart. Despite already knowing what he'd find, the emptiness and void of life was unnerving. John doubled over and wept. Mournful wails eminated from his chest as his heart sang out in anguish. He clasped his hands in prayer, squeezed tears from his eyes and whispered,

" Oh please God bring him back. He's a great man. Don't let Death seperate us, this isn't fair... Please!"

John looked sky-wards, past the delapidated barn roof and began searching the night sky for a Heavenly answer. A sign. Anything. The stars danced, twinkling brightly as if everything was right in the world. But John knew that his world was anything but.

Staggering to his feet, John hurried over to the open door. The chilly night breeze coursed toward him, raising mountainous goosebumps on his exposed skin. Shivering, John let the last of his tears roll down his cheeks, their descent slowed by their transformation into ice droplets. John sniffled. His head flopped to his chest despondently as he stared at the puddle by his feet. In it he saw himself. Wretched. Lost. Alone. But then he caught sight of the vivid blood love heart on his cheek. It proclaimed loudly of his and Sherlock's love even as the rain tore at it, smudging it and trying to erase it from existance.

Why is the world so intent on ruining what is perfect? Why?

Behind him, a bright white light began to pulsate around Sherlock. At first, John was so overcome that he did not notice it but as it grew stronger, it demanded his attention. He unfolded himself and turned around. An ethereal light swirled and contorted the very air above him. John stared, mouth agape. The ghostly form of a man rapidly emerged, taking on the features of an incredibly familiar face.

Hey! Guess what guys? EDIT: This fanfiction has been viewed by 700+ different people! Revel in the power of the internet! Seriously though, if your reading this now you're amazing. :D