Johnlock one-shots

The death of me

John sat in the living room at 221B Baker Street when the phonecall that changed his life came. It was the police. The policeofficer seemed nervous while trying to say something about a shooting. John understood nothing, and asked the policeman to just tell him what he wanted.

"We think Sherlock is dead." He said. He explained the situation, and asked John to come identity the body. John started crying, but agreed to come identify him.

Sherlock had been working on a case, and was alone looking for evidences. The policewoman has heard a shot, and by the time she got there, Sherlock was dead.

John wouldn't believe it was actually Sherlock. It couldn't be, there had to be a mistake. With tears in his eyes, John took a cab to the place where the murder was said to have taken place. The cabdriver gave him strange looks, but didn't say anything.

As he arrived, he ran out of the cab and towards the police. "John, we are so sorry." A policeofficer said, before leading him to the body. It was covered in a white cloth, but the policeman pulled it away so John could se Sherlocks face. John looked down at the lifeless body laying there, and started sobbing. John threw himself to the ground next to Sherlock and began touching his face. The beautiful face that had once belonged to his best mate.

"So, is it him?" A policewoman said. John hadn't even noticed she was there. John nodded, while trying his best not to cry. "Are you sure?" The policeman asked. John nodded again. There was nothing in the whole wide world he was more sure of.

His Sherlock was lying there, cold and lifeless. He has stained blood on the left of his face, after the bullet that has hit him. But he was still beautiful. And it was still his Sherlock.

John went home. He hadn't stopped crying for a second since he saw Sherlock lifeless body earlier that day. He took out a knife from the kitchen counter. He held it in his hand, just feeling the weight of it, before taking it in to the bathroom.

He let the knife slid his wrist over and over again, just feeling the pain. "This world is nothing without you!" He shouted, before dragging the knife over his wrist one last time, cutting way too deep.