All of the grief, all the pain his loss brought, floods my brain at the mention of his name. 'Sherlock is... dead, Anderson. He's gone.'
Anderson scoffs, with a maniacal gleam in his eye. 'Oh, please John, you don't believe that! Come on, he's Sherlock!'
"He dead." I command and but it slips in one of his ears and out the other.
"He's not dead. Why would he die? Because people called him a fraud? I know people who've called him worst to his face and he would just call him an idiot."
I smirk at that. 'You mean you? What, do you think that just because you believe hard enough he'll come back? He hated you! If he won't come back for me then he won't come at all.'
Everyone's staring. I must've shouted. Blinking back tears, I limp back to work. Yes, limp. After Sherlock died, it came back. He became my crutch, I guess, and then it was Mary, but she left months ago. With our daughter. I don't blame her for it, after all, I'm a mess.
YOU ARE READING
The Broken Home
FanfictionThis is a BBC Sherlock fanfiction created by me and my friend, who'll I'll call ~H. We are only the creator of the character Sherly. Other characters and the Sherlock story is not ours. In our version, Sherlock doesn't come back after two years. Thi...
