Oneshots of John lock<3

After loosing sherlock. (Bbc)

"John, I understand this is really hard for yo-" One of Johns many therapists tried to comfort him once again, but what was he supposed to do? His heart ached, every time he woke up he felt sore. He knew Sherlock Holmes. Why did he do it, he knew John needed him, didn't he?
"No, no. That's where you stop. You don't know how hard this is. You won't know how hard this is, so if you can just shut up!" His injured hands gripped the armchair as he tilted his head away from the opposing lady.
"I'm not here to make you feel small, you just need a little push to get back on your feet. You don't need Sherlock Holmes." Although her words would probably make sense to a person who wasn't mourning, to him it felt like knifes getting stabbed into his gut.
"Okay, let's say I don't need him. What now? Ive lost my roommate, Ive lost my choice to write blogs about cases, I've lost being able to do solve cases, and quite frankly I've lost who I have, had feelings for." He wasn't going to cry, not again. He's spent hours crying over the death of Sherlock. He didn't want to spend another second of it.
"Your not the only one who's been through this," she tried to rant on about how someone else has been in the same situation as him but he wasn't having it.
"I hope you have a amazing evening. But I'm not dealing with this shit." He got up, reaching for his jacket which was hung on a hook attached to the wall.
"Please John, sit down."
"Have a good evening."

He walked the streets of London, what was he to do now? He's lost his partner in crime, he's lost his sense of mental direction, he didn't know where to go from here. There was only one place he could go, 221B Baker Street. It didn't feel right, not without Sherlock. He sat in his arm chair, and just started ranting on about his day. He talked about things as random as why he didn't like the texture of the dinner Mycroft sent to him, to what days he avoids work because of how crowded it gets. It was more therapeutic than any therapy session.
"Sherl, god what am I going to do without you? I've already left you voice messages.. which is rather stupid. But for fucks sake, please don't be dead." He tilted his head to the sound of his own words, tears built up in his eyes as he knew he had to accept it. "Please don't leave me here," he sighed, feeling a uncomfortable emotion run through his chest. He got up, making his way to the front door, he didn't want to come back any time soon. He smiled at the little things, the hat, the random science equipment, books piled up on the floor. It was the end, he had his memories and nothing more.

(I get this doesn't really count, but yk<3)