John was tired as hell after his day at work. A little girl had broken her arm, crying the whole time. Another one was a homeless man, who had gotten lung cancer from smoking too much.
To say his day in short, he was tired, he missed Sherlock, and he was depressed. He hailed a cab, letting his mind rest for a few minutes before he had to pay for the ride and leave. Right when he was going to enter his flat he saw a familiar shade of yellow.
John turned to look at it. It was a sprayed message on the wall next to his flat, with the same yellow hue as the ciphers in "The Blind Banker".
It read
I believe in John Watson.
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
