60 Ways to Say Goodbye - A Johnlock Fanfiction

Chapter Two

Heyllooooooo Sherlockians and Johnlock shippers.

Tell me before Christmas what your favorite holiday song is! If it's one of my favorites (and I have many) you will get the chapter three dedicated to you! If its not one of my favorites, I still love you and you get bonus points for commenting.

And now, here is the second installment of 60 Ways

Thanks

~BB

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Chapter Two

"Hello, Molly," I said entering the examination room. She was turned away, marking something on a clipboard.

She turned around and looked startled to see me.

"Oh, John," she dropped the clipboard and ran to me, crying. It wasn't something that I'd expected. During his life, we'd both competed for Sherlock's attention, whether we knew it or not. I'd never really gotten the chance to know her, and that's why I'd come here this evening.

Molly threw her arms around my neck and I awkwardly hugged her back.

"I'm sorry," she said, taking a step back.

"No, it's fine. I was just here to see of you'd like to come to dinner with me tonight," I told her.

She looked as if she was thinking for a moment.

"Not...not as a date, right?" She asked.

"No, of course not. Just as two people who have something in common," I said.

"Oh, what's that?" She raised an eyebrow.

"The loss of our dear friend," I said. Wasn't it obvious?

"Oh, yes. Of course," she nodded.

"So would you like to come?" I asked.

"Yes, that would be nice," she smiled weakly.

"Just come by after work is done, we'll go somewhere," I suggested.

"Thank you, John."

"Yep," I nodded and headed out the door.

~

On the way home, I stopped at a small flower stand and picked up yet another yellow rose. Yellow roses symbolized friendship. Though I'd admitted to myself that I loved Sherlock, I wasn't ready to admit that to...his ghost?

I took the short walk to the cemetary. It seemed more gloomy today than it had been yesterday. It was probably due to the fact that it was raining lightly, whereas yesterday, it had been as clear as it gets in London.

I walked back to the spot where Sherlock's grave rested.

As I got closer, I saw that the rose I had left yesterday was gone.

They probably collected them this morning I thought. Flowers can't just build up forever.

I left the yellow rose pressing against the tombstone and thought about yesterday when I had found the money.

Who had left it?

I felt a presence around me. It was probably just the wind. Maybe I was just being silly, but in a graveyard you can never be too careful. I turned in a circle, checking for someone or something that was watching me, but just as yesterday, I found nothing there.

I shrugged my shoulders and cleared my throat.

"Good day, Sherlock," I said as if he were standing right in front of me.