Void

I was supposed to die first I wasn't supposed to be left without him It's not supposed to be like this My best friend John Watson is dead ~Sherlock Holmes

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"Some idiot was on St Bart's last night, just stopping by to make sure it wasn't this idiot!" Sherlock was awoken by the voice of detective inspected Lestrade.

"He was here all night." Mary lied, crossing her arms and looking down at Sherlock.

"Why is he sleeping on the floor?"

"It's been a rough few days for us Greg." Marys voice was stern. "I don't think you understand."

"I know that's it's hard, I knew John too Mary, but mopping around won't change anything."

"Leave the girl alone." Sherlock groaned as he sat up. "Why are you here?"

"Checking up on you two." Greg smiled. "Just making sure you are alright."

"We are fine now leave." Sherlock stood up and gestured to the door.

"So are you two a thing now?" Anderson's voice rang from behind the door.

"Anderson?" Sherlock groaned. "Leave!"

"Stay safe." Greg spoke then left with Anderson trailing behind like a lost puppy.

"Where's Reign?" Sherlock asked, stretching his arms above his head.

"Still in bed, you can go wake her." Mary smiled and threw Sherlock a dark grey shirt to throw on.

He pulled himself up the stairs that had previously let to Johns room. A full size bed covered in black sheets, a wardrobe and a desk were all the room held. Sherlock sat on the bed beside the curled up toddler. He brushed her soft blond hair out of her face and noticed a small bump protruding from the back of her neck. "Mary!" He shouted with a tone of concern.

"What's is it?" Mary rushed up the stairs. Sherlock held the hair back from the bump. Mary stared at it with a look of fear in her eyes. She crawled onto the bed and looked over her sleeping child. "Reign" he held back tears. "Reign baby?"

Reign slowly opened her eyes and stretched. "Ma-ma" she held out her arms.

Mary held her in a tight hug before turning to Sherlock. "Go get a taxi."

____________________________

Mary held tight onto Sherlocks hand as they sat alone in the emergency waiting room. Reign had been taken in immediately and was suffering through test after test, scan after scan, her blood being drawn every twenty minutes. Sherlock and Mary were told to wait, that it should only be a moment. However they had been sitting in the same black leather chairs for over four hours.

Mary's tears stained Sherlocks coat as she sobbed on his shoulder, worried to death about her daughter. Sherlock too was worried, Reign was after all like a child to him as well. He remained strong however, he knew John would've wanted him to. He kept his head high and let Mary rest her head on him.

"Mr and Mrs Watson?" A stout doctor appeared before them.

"Act-"

"Yes" Mary interrupted Sherlock. Quickly she wiped her eyes.

"Follow me please" he led them to a small office. Sherlock and Mary sat across the desk from the doctor. "Your daughter" he spoke slowly. "She has an inoperable tumor on her brain stem" Mary gasped. "Don't worry ma'am it does not seem to be cancerous and it should not cause her any complications other than a slight discomfort. You may take her home, if out test find anything I will be sure to call you."

"Thank you doctor." Mary stood up and shook his hand then left. Leaving Sherlock alone in the room.

Sherlock raced after her "Mary?"

She sopped in her tracks and turned to him. "Sherlock." She paused. "You've done so much for me, but please leave." She turned and continued after the doctor.

Sherlock stood for a moment, comprehending what had just happened. Mary had left him, his last remembrance of John. He wasn't quite sure why Mary had said that, but he didn't question it. Keeping his head up he left the hospital and made him way slowly to Johns grave.

Sherlock knelt on the freshly planted grass. He placed his hand on the heavy stone. "Hello John." He spoke calmly. "The doctors said Reign will be alright." he sighed, falling against the grave. "I don't know what to do John. I really don't like not knowing!" He let his tears fall against the headstone. His chest rose and fell as he sobbed quietly.

"What would you do? If you were in my situation?" He asked the stone. "When you were in my situation?" He waited for a response he knew wouldn't come. "You'd go on with life and get engaged?" He forced a smile. "That's not the life for me John."

He lay on his back, hands folded over his chest. He spoke to himself as though he was talking to a friend. "I wish you could see the sky John." He smiled. "The sunset is beautiful." He watched the purple and orange sky fade behind the trees. "I used to be alone before you, you know that right? I thought being alone was best, but I don't like it anymore John. I miss you."

He continued to lay as the stars rose high in the sky. "You still there John?" He paused for a moment. "Good" Sherlock rested his head on his hands and smiled. "I know, I know, I shouldn't be out here, I don't mind John."

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock shot up, frightened by the sudden voice. He squinted through the darkness at the oncoming figure. "Anderson" he groaned and laid back down.

"Sorry" he paused. "I'll leave if you want."

"No" Sherlock pouted. "Why are you here."

"Came to pay my private respects to John, not really private I guess." Anderson sat cross legged beside Sherlock and placed a single rose at the grave. "You're here for the same?"

"Nope"

"Then why?"

"A place to be alone."

"I can leave" Anderson began to stand but Sherlocks hand cuffed his ankle.

"Please don't"

Anderson sat back down and in silence the boys remained beside he grave. Anderson examined Sherlock. His hair was an unusual mess and his clothes weren't as classy as he was used to, barely a step up from when he had been on drugs. His concrete face was stained with tears. He could tell Sherlock was lonely. "My wife left me" he sighed.

"Why do I care?"

"You don't." He glanced at the headstone.

"Sally isn't answering your calls." Sherlock sat up.

"How'd you-?"

"You're nervously feeling at your phone, waiting for a call, I'd say from your wife but by the lack of empathy you could care less about that."

"Could've been subtle" Anderson coughed.

"Don't be getting sick!" Sherlock jumped.

"I'm fine. Sherlock are you okay?"

"Yes" he collected himself. "Just-"

"Broken?"

"Void"

Anderson was at a loss of words. He had never guess that Sherlock Holmes was capable of caring for another human being. He had always seen him as a self centered man, getting off on his cases. But John had softened him up quite a bit, John had made Sherlock somewhat human. Anderson stood up and offered his hand to Sherlock who reluctantly took it. "Let's get you home."

The walked in silence down the dark London streets until they reached Baker Street. Anderson stopped as Sherlock walked to the door. Sherlock paused for a moment before turning back to face Anderson. "There's an extra bedroom upstairs."

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