Sherlock stood for the second time on the roof of Saint Barts. The view haunted him. He looked down, his feet hanging dangerously off the edge. It didn't seem so far if you imagined that you were jumping to your death.
Jumping from that roof....had mixed feelings. The wind around him, Sherlock thinking that the plan might not work, and if it didn't....
John.
It was always John, wasn't it? Sherlock thought to himself with a smirk. It was always for John.
He tried, he really did He stopped cases to let John eat. Not to keep John happy, but eating showed that John was happy enough to eat. He faked his death so John could live. He was scarred and tortured to get back to John.
And John hadn't moved past him. Sherlock had first seen John and deduced his last three years of his life.
Not able to open his email in fear that he might open his blog. Three years since his limp returned. Two and a half since suicide entered his mind again. One and three fourths since his eating disorder returned.
But John was getting married now, wasn't he? He was getting married because Mary had been there when Sherlock had not.
And now Sherlock stood on the edge, the fronts of his feet hanging off the edge.
"Don't jump. Not again." a voice said, before two arms wrapped around him and gently lead him away from the edge.
It was always John, wasn't it?
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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
