John's POV
John curled up on the bed, trying to calm himself. Like a mental patient he was dangerously unstable, barely an inch away the edge. Only one more thing could send into an unescapable abyss. He looked at the desk next to his bed, only inches away. He slowly got up, very slowly.
He stumbled over to the desk, almost like half dead zombie. In one of the drawers was Sherlock's phone with his note recorded, every heart breaking word that lead up to him jumping off the roof. Another drawer held a gun, a Glock 17 semiautomatic pistol with one bullet in it.
It was a choice that he had made for the last month since the funeral. Was he going to live through the ordeal again, every horrible moment that Sherlock stood on the edge of that building, about to fall to his death?
Or was he going to follow him?
Sherlock's POV
Sherlock was in a bunker somewhere under England. He didn't bother remembering or caring. He held a picture in his right hand, which was wrinkled from the times he had crumbled it up and flattened it back out. The edges were fringed and torn but the picture was there.
It was Christmas, John on the left, Sherlock in the middle and Mrs. Hudson on the right. Mrs. Hudson was in the middle of laughing, her head thrown back and her mouth in a smile. She was drunk, going from the half empty champagne bottle at her feet. John was wearing a ridiculous Christmas jumper. Lestrade was in the background, his mouth gaping in surprise at Molly's dress. Molly was smiling nervously, drinking a glass of champagne.
And in the center of all of that chaos was Sherlock Holmes. The man who kept calm and collected, whether it was a life or death situation or a Christmas party that went out of hand.
He missed it, he wouldn't believe that he was thinking about it. Mrs. Hudson, trying to get him to wear the antlers that were abandoned on the couch and the days that John would drone on and on about him and his habits. John complaining about the experiments that he would never clean up. Sherlock and his drug habits. Sherlock and his 'nonhuman' solution for human problems.
Wouldn't you miss it too?
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
