The Lovely Holmes

Chapter 1

(A/N if you have read "The Lovely Bones" by Alice Seabold I kinda based the story off of how she wrote her story. It is a Johnlock finfiction but if you haven't read the book then it shouldn't matter I just wanted you to know that I based this partially on her book.)

POV Sherlock/

I knew it was going to happen. I had been expecting the pain, but what I wasn't expecting was how quickly it was over.

I was dead, and I knew it. I had died to save my friends, but they'd never know that. They would remember me how I wanted them to: a fake.

I haden't actually meant to die. Molly and I had thought of a way for me to jump but when I actually jumped I must have done something wrong and, well... died.

I never believed in god, or heaven, or even hell but there was no denying that I was in heaven.

It wasn't like people had described it, there were no angels, or harps, I couldn't fly and I wasn't surrounded by loved ones. Instead I was surrounded by tables with lab equipment on them, with plenty of body parts to use them on.

I was not the only on in my "heaven" though I wished I was. There was one other person; Charlotte Cooper.

Charlotte was my "guide" who would explain things to me as I began to ask questions. My first was "How does heaven work?" She explained it simply.

"In your life you had done good things, so when you died you were brought here, as a reward. You are basically allowed to do whatever you want, as long as you really want it. Now since you were a man of science the laws of physics do apply here but will cease to if you really want them to."

My next question was; can I see what's happening to my friends still on Earth?

She said that if I took a knife and cut a "hole" in the "clouds" I would be able to see what my friends were doing. I would also be able to feel what they felt, experience what they did but no matter how much I wanted to I could never communicate with them.

I thought they were pretty simple rules. Then I asked if there was really a god. To this she answered.

"Your heaven is whatever you want it to be, so if you believe in god then yes there is one, but if you don't then no there isn't."

She then moved towards a table and picked up a knife, which she handed to me. With it I cut a fairly large hole in the "floor" and looked down.

At first I saw Earth like I was looking at it from space, all green and blue. But slowly it began to "zoom-in" on the person I was thinking of; John.

He was dressed in a black suit and standing before a grave, my grave. I couldn't tell what he was saying but I could tell he was deeply saddened. He was talking but I couldn't hear what he was saying.

I looked up at a patiently waiting Charlotte and asked her why.

"You need to focus ONLY on the person, you can't let your mind wander." she told me.

When I looked back down John had gone from my grave to ou... his flat. When he placed his hand on the door I felt his breathing increase and his adrenalin levels surge, an anxiety attack. He started gasping for air as he opened the door.

He had to crawl up the stairs on his hands and knees.

When he made it to the top he curled into the fetal position and began to sob and wail. There was a point at which he literally couldn't breath and I felt my hand fly to my chest.

John was like this for several hours and when his breath did come back he stayed there, curled up on the floor, not daring to move.

At some point John fell asleep and I could see his dreams.

I was standing on the roof with the phone pressed to my ear. I was talking to John, but I already knew what I would say.

Then I saw John, the look on his face was even worse up close then hearing his voice. At least it was his voice I heard in my final moments.

I watched myself fall and John rush to check my pulse.

That was when he started to scream.

I could hear the scream, I was pretty sure from the look on her face that Charlotte could too.

It was like nothing I had ever heard, so full of emotion and pain. I could swear there was a tear on my cheek.

John was awake now and he was whispering something to himself over and over again.

At first I couldn't make it out, not because I wasn't focused, but because it was barely audible.

I gasped and felt Charlotte's eyes on me.

The word John was whispering wasn't a word, it was a name.

It wasn't just any name, no no no.

It was mine.