Rainy days, Rainy nights...

Part 2

The gun clicked.

"W-what?" he said out loud

He turned the light on and checked the gun. He noticed something odd, there was writing on the gun.

Nice try - SH

John lost all color in his face, he was stunned and couldn't move. There was a noise in the corner of the room.

John turned to see a ghost.

Sherlock Holmes was standing by the open window in his room.

"John.." Sherlock said.

John fell back, knocking his head on the ground.

"Ow! Shit!" john yelped and held the back of his head in pain.

Sherlock rushed to his aid, but john resisted.

"Who.. How.. Why?" John said in between grimaces of pain.

John still kept scooting away from Sherlock, his presents gave john a pain in his chest and chills, the man he saw dead was standing in front of him.

"John, im not dead." Sherlock said.

John was sitting on the floor, looking up at him.

"How...?" John whispered

Sherlock sighed.

"I was confronted by Moriarty."

John looked down.

"He told me that if i didn't kill myself, he would kill everyone i loved.' He paused, 'Obviously i knew his plan all along, so i planned ahead. It was all planned, it was all, perfect".

Sherlock smiled in pride at his wonderfully thought out suicide, then remained a plain face as he realized John's disbelief.

"John if i had just killed him and walked out of that building id see you lying on the ground with a gunshot through your head. Ms. Hudson, Mycroft... All of you dead because of me. Of course, Mycroft knew of the plan and helped me execute it."

John still sat on the ground, looking at the skinny detective. 

"Sherlock, i-" John started to sob "Why? Why didn't you tell me? I get that you told mycroft but not me? Hell, Sherlock-" He stopped to whip his tears, "I would have assumed that you would have told me! John Watson,  the only person to actually care about you, the only person who was your friend, the only one who- " he paused, thinking about the words that were about to come out of his mouth.

"John, I'm truly sorry..."

"No, just... Fuck, Sherlock! You aren't dead! Who else knows?" John was noticeably angry and had stopped crying, its was mostly just yelling, Sherlock flinched with each harsh word that followed, "Who else knows Sherlock?"

"Molly, Mycroft and a handful of my homeless network."

"Jesus Christ, Sherlock! Why couldn't i know?" 

"I was afraid that you'd let the cat out of the bag." Sherlock looked down at his feet, he could feel his toes curling inside his shoes. "But I realize now that was just stupid, I trust you john, Sometimes more than i trust my own brother. John, I'm truly sorry." Sherlock wiped a tear away, he tried to make it look like it was just one, but he was crying too. Sherlock had to sit down, he put his face in hands and hit his crying face away from the blogger. 

John stood up and walked next to Sherlock, "Stand up." he said. 

Sherlock obeyed, and john grabbed him and hugged him, digging his face into his collar, trying to convince himself that his friend wasn't dead, he wasn't dead, but John had to be sure. Sherlock hugged back, resting his chin on the top of Johns head, smiling.