John was making himself a cup of tea after Sherlock's death. It had been two months. Suddenly, the tea is his cup starting to spill.
"OH GOD. NO. NO. I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE!" John screamed. Mrs. Hudson rushed upstairs to see John, crying on the floor.
The tremor in his left hand had returned.
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
