This story was told from the wrong point of view. The person who told was not a bad person,he just didn t know everything. Like I do, but I wish I didn t. It comes with a price this story, but since Mycroft has me in a detention facility in the middle of nowhere, probably in the desert I will tell you. I was actually a nobody before. But that s what happens when you get in too deep. You can t dig your way out.
There is always an effect to a cause, and cause to an effect. In this case, Sherlock dying was the effect. The cause was Sherlock s biggest fan. Moriarty. People think Sherlock has no heart,or soul if that makes more sense to you. But his is bigger that all of Britain combined. He died to save the people closest to him. He cares but nobody knows, not even him. You are probably wondering who I am, what am I doing in a detention facility with nobody around to save me, how do I know all of these things about Sherlock Holmes. I am John Watson s wife, Mary Watson.
Sherlock and John were best friends as most of you know. If you know that and have more knowledge than just that, then I applaud you. Congratulations on knowing most of the story, you may think you know all of it but you probably don't , just sayin . I tried to be nice to Sherlock, after he came back from the dead. John sometimes,after Sherlock told him what happened , he walked out of the room if it became too much for him to handle. Which left me alone with Sherlock quite often. I tried to make small talk at first, but he pretended not to hear me. Then,h e started me questions. It was mostly questions about our relationship,like how many dates have we been on, then he moved on to asking about on how we met, and stuff like that. I can never read his expressions so I never know what he going to ask , or say ,next.

*Flashback*

John, Sherlock said while me and John were watching telly.
John sighed, Yes, Sherlock? There's been another murder. Sherlock turned from his desk to face John. We ll need to go to Barts tomorrow. I think John thought back to the fall and left the room.
Me and Sherlock sat there for about a minute, then I was about to get up and go check up on John when Sherlock said my name.
Mary no tone used in his voice, like it was the first time he had said it.
My back still pointed at him, Yes? I wasn t sure what he was going to say . What would Sherlock want to say to me. You stole my best friend? Why are you here? or, something totally random like, your fly is down.
Tell him- He paused like he was debating whether or not to tell me, Tell him I m sorry. I will, I wanted to add no need to worry, he is still your best friend but I knew he would pretend like I didn t even say anything else. Under my breath I whispered, I m sorry, Sherlock Thank you, He said also as a whisper, but just loud enough for me to hear him. I wasn t sure if he heard me when I whispered, he is just too confusing.
I walked out of the room, up the stairs to where John s door to his room was slightly ajar . John? She walked into his room slightly brushing against the door.
Yes? He hasn t been sleeping much lately.
Are you alright? I know how he is sometimes. I walked over to him and sat on the edge of the bed a few inches away from him.
I know. I m sorry for leaving. I couldn t believe he was apologising to me.
Hey, I scooted closer to him, until our legs were brushing each other. You know that he cares a lot for you, have you even asked him any questions about, you know. You know? he turned to look at me. You mean-, He stopped, you could tell he was trying to decide if he was going to say it or not. The fall? .
Yes, it will make you feel better, please. We waited there in silence minutes , until we heard the door slam shut down stairs.
John s phone rang, he took it out it was a text from Sherlock.

I m sorry, John.
A few minutes later his phone rang, it was Sherlock again. It read:
Goodbye, John.