John hailed a cab. He had been thrown up on three times today and had a surgery on a child. A girl, about ten or eleven, that broke her arm while on the swings. She didn't fight, she just cried and held onto a toy bunny that she had brought.
"221B Baker Street please." John said to the cabbie. The trip was going well until a man ran into the street at the wrong time and the cab smashed into the cab. The man was thrown backwards and landed on the street. John jumped out of the cab to go and help the man.
The man was tall, black hair, blue scarf, and a long black coat. It was Sherlock. Sherlock had died a year ago. John had seen him die, yet here he was, hit by the cab that John had been in. He quietly dropped down next to Sherlock.
"Sherlock? Can you hear me?" John asked. Sherlock was still alive, only shown by the slow movement of his chest moving up and down.
"John.... I'm sorry." Sherlock said and pulled something out of his pocket. It seemed like a small box, now covered with dark red blood. John took it and opened it.
It held a beautifully made ring that had rubies embedded into the diamond band.
"I wanted us to grow old together." Sherlock said before he died.
YOU ARE READING
Random Sherlock Oneshots
Fanfiction"I know this is a bit stupid. But..... Happy Birthday Sherlock........... I know this was a waste of time...... Why would I say happy birthday to a grave?" -John Hamish Watson
