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


3. 3

Sherlock raced after John. Screaming at him to turn around, to pay attention to him. But John continued to run, staying just out of arms reach of Sherlock no matter how fast Sherlock ran. He yelled at John, screaming apologies and compliments. John however kept running, saying not a single word.

"John!" Sherlock awoke in a cold sweat, his heart pounding and his breathe deep and forced. He sat up and walked out to the kitchen, leaning on the counter he poured himself a glass of water.

"Sherlock?" Mary asked from the doorway as she tightened the string around her robe. "I heard your scream."

"Sorry." He muttered and took a drink. His heart was still racing.

Mary didn't say a word, she simply walked up to him and wrapped her tiny arms around his waist. Sherlock rested his bandaged hand on hers and rubbed it gently with his thumb. "I know you miss him Sherlock." She rested her head on his bare chest. "But that won't bring him back, he's gone and we have to live with it."

Sherlock simply stared at the wall, swallowing more of his water and holding onto Mary. He felt confused, he didn't know what to do. Gently he shrugged off Mary. "I think I'm going for a walk."

Mary smiled and let him go. "Be safe Sherlock."

He grabbed his coat and threw it on over his grey sweatpants. It was late but cool, the weather didn't bother him much tonight. He raced quickly to Bart's hospital. He wasn't quite sure why but he found himself stumbling up the stairs and onto the roof, a place he was quite familiar with. He stood beside the edge and slowly stepped onto it.

Last time he had been there he had been talking to John,and this time would be the same. He looked down at the street below him and spoke. "I'm here John." He shouted. "I need you!" Once again he let his tears flow. "John please!" He sobbed. "I need you"

Goodbye John

His supposed final words raced through his head but was quickly replaced by new words.

Hello John

Sherlock stared at the street, he has done it once,this time would only be slightly different, instead of living, he would die. He took in a deep breath and filled his longs with the chilled air. He stepped closer to the edge of the building, his feet extending past slightly and hanging into the air.

"Sherlock step back." A familiar voice rang from behind him. The voice of John.

Sherlock kept his eyes focused to the pavement below. "You're just a fragment of my imagination."

"Even so." The voice if John got louder. "You can't do this to them, any of them."

Sherlock turned to see John standing only a few feet away. "John" he cried. John held out his hand and Sherlock took it as he helped him off the edge and onto the safety off the roof. Although he knew this was all in his mind he wrapped his arms around John, letting his tears fall onto Johns chest. "I'm so sorry John."

"I forgive you" John spoke the words Sherlock had been longing to hear as he disappeared, leaving Sherlock alone on the roof.

He quickly made his way back to the flat, he had no idea howling he had been gone for but he knew this would remain his secret, his close attempt at suicide, and his vision of John. Both would remained locked away deep in his mind palace.

Back at the flat Mary had been waiting for him, as soon as he stepped int he door her arms flung around him and she kissed his cheek. "I was getting worried." She mumbled as they walked upstairs. "I made you coffee"

"Thank you." He forced a smile.

"How was your walk?"


The conversation fell flat as it tended to do with the two of them. Neither however could sleep, they simply sipped their coffee together in silence. They both missed John, they both wanted him back, they both knew that was impossible.

Sherlock and Mary had met through John, when Sherlock revealed himself after his two year death charade. Mary had been fascinated by him. His ability to read her, to remain mysterious and abnormally melancholy. But how she watched him fall apart in front of her.

Sherlock fell to the floor screaming, hitting the carpet repeatively. Mary attempted to hold her back but stopped as soon as Sherlocks hand nearly hit her face in his fit. Reign cried from upstairs causing Mary to race up as Sherlocks mental attack subsided into a fit of soundless tears.

Mary returned after a moment and gently rubbed his back, shushing him and reassuring him he was alright. Sherlock however recalled only his true last moment with John.

John had been recovering quite well from his sick, his white blood cell count had begun to lessen, meaning a lesser need to fight off viruses. John had a smile on his face and so did Sherlock.

"go catch us a killer" John laughed. "Before you know it I'll be back and we can fight this immorality together."

"I'll be back later" Sherlock had groaned, not wanting a simple goodbye to be drawn out. "Take care"

"I'll be waiting"

And with those words Sherlock had left. Holding an empty promise he wouldn't keep.

Mary continued to comfort him until they both drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

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