John (BBC Sherlock Fanfic)

I stood over his gravestone. It had the words "Sherlock Holmes" engraved in white, and the black marble was still shiny enough that I could see my own reflection staring back at me.

Even though I was standing at his gravesite, I still couldn't believe he was dead. It felt more like I was standing over someone else's grave, and Sherlock would be at home, playing the violin, and waiting for me to get back.

But I knew that wasn't true. I knew he was dead. I saw his lifeless body clinging to the sidewalk, and the blood dripping down his face as I pushed through the crowd of mortified passerby's.

He was gone. My one and only friend. The person who I loved and hated all at the same, and now I would never be able to see him again. I still never got to tell Sherlock how I felt about him. I suppose that part's what kills me the most.

I loved him.

I loved him more than anyone in the whole world and now he was gone.

"Just do one more thing, Sherlock. One more miracle. For me. Don't. Be. Dead."

At that moment I could feel the tears start welling in my eyes and a lump formed in the back of my throat. I tried not to cry, but my vision started to blur and I felt a wet streak roll down the side of my face.

I couldn't hold it in any longer. I fell to my knees and starting sobbing into my hands. The kind of sobbing where you can't breathe, and you're head starts to hurt. I rested my forehead against the cold marble headstone, and tried to breathe between gasps of sobs, but it didn't help. Nothing helped.

Then I heard his voice, and a hand placed itself on my shoulder.

"John."