The Days After

A/N: HELLO! Im kinda new to Wattpad....well as in I started a few months ago and read Sherlock and Johnlock stories ALL THE TIME but I never wrote anything.....soooo here is my first story! :D just taking a shot in the dark here..like Sherlock with John's alcoholic brother...and am writing this! Its a blog perspective of John...but maybe will change to 3rd person sometimes later...we shall seee!! ENJOY!

---------------------------------------------

"It was a cold day. A very dark, cold day . At least it felt like that to me. The temperature was that of any other day, but to me, it felt like it was at least 50 degrees colder. I was freezing on the inside. Cold. Icy. But everybody else in the world wasn't. Thats what disgusts me .Everybody in Westminster is running about their silly little lives, doing their silly little games with their silly little friends. I despise them. Walking around like there is no care in the world. Happy. It sickens me to see them like this. Especially after............what...just.....happened.

My head is numb. As numb as it could ever be. Number than it was when I got shot back in Afghanistan. No thoughts flows through my mind. No ideas. No memories. Just a word. One word. Sherlock. He had jumped. We both had fallen. But only one of us is dead. And I hate myself every moment for not dying. For not being the one instead to die. For me to fall and die. And him....live. I know me dying in that instant would not change the fact that he would still die, but a man can dream, cant he? I just wish I did something to stop him. Something. Anything. But instead, I stood there, staring up at him with my mouth gaping wide open. Talking. Watching. And falling.

Now, I have nothing. Without him, I am nothing. I am but just another human being on the Earth. A human being with no purpose to life. No purpose at all. And London is not a battlefield anymore. It is just a collection of shops and sites. Just as Mycroft had said. And 221 B? Oh Baker Street itself is almost unbearable for me. I keep hoping to walk through that door and see Sherlock sitting in the arm chair shooting the wall, exclaiming that he's bored, even though there are plenty of cases he could choose from. But he always saying that they were going to be a waste of his time and effort, for they themselves are boring and uninteresting. Thats what my life is like now. Uninteresting. Boring. Depressing. All the things that Sherlock hated. All the things he tried avoid, is my life.

How am I going to continue on with everyday life? I just cant. Everyday when I walk over to Barts to go to work or say hello to Molly, I keep seeing Sherlock on the rooftop. About to jump. Saying his final goodbyes. And finally, jumping. I always collapse when I see that. Every time. I curl up into a ball of pain, sadness, and desire for my only and best friend in the entire world to not be dead. To stop it. Stop this. To stop the pain. The stop the hurt. To stop the sorrow. To stop being.....dead. But he will never come back. Never say he's bored again. Never shoot the yellow smiley face on the wall. Never solve another case again. Never insult Anderson. Never deduce. Never live in 221 B again. And never, ever, ever be united with his favorite blogger again. And thats the worst. Just knowing that I will never see him again. Never run across London just to "pass the time". Never get saved again by Sherlock on a day to day basis. Never get purposely"drugged" by him again. And never, ever, ever tell him when he's living, that he is fantastic, amazing, extraordinary, brilliant, and....that I love him."

---------------------------------------------

Soooo....did you like it? Sad, huh. Made me cry when writing it. Please comment and tell me what you think. :) thanks! <3 EB