The School and The Sociopath [Teen!Lock]

Epilogue

A head of dark curls hung before the polished gravestone. His shoulders bouncing lightly as he sobbed silently for the loss. He was grieving, badly. He was supposed to protect her, he said everything would be fine. But it wasn't, her death was his fault, and his alone. If she hadn't of gone with him, she would still be alive and well. Probably aimlessly chatting with somebody, her brown hair would be pulled back into a ponytail, her brown eyes would be shining with life. But they weren't, they are closed forever. The tears rolled down his face, tracing over his sharp cheekbones, past the scar that he now wore on his face. It had started to heal, but slowly. His immune system wasn't working, due to lack of eating, and sleeping, and the amount of cigarettes he now smoked. It was all for her. He couldn't understand who it was, or why they did it to her and not to him. His mind was blank, hence the cigarettes, and lack of eating or sleeping. He had also turned to drugs, his arm was decorated with faint spots from the needle breaking into the skin. It enabled his mind to think, only for a short while though, after a short period of time it would go blank, back to her, back to the day he lost her. 

He laid with her limp body after the bullet hit, she wasn't dead instantly, that was the worst part about it. He stayed with her in his arm as she cried out in pain, he held her close as the colour drained from her, along with her crimson blood. Her final moments were spent in the arms of the boy she loved, it sounds romantic really, and it would be if she wasn't in as much pain as she was. The bullet had gone through her stomach, if she would have lived, she wouldn't of had a very pleasant life. But she would still be alive, her face would still light up every time she saw him, her brown ponytail would still bounce up and down as she walked, she would still stutter and stammer when trying to make conversation. But no more, she was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it.  The people around him tried to support him, failing badly. They eventually grew impatient and after 2 years of trying, they gave up. All except one. Me; John Hamish Watson. Well, DR John Hamish Watson now. I stayed with him every single day, and every single night that he stayed up and sobbed into my shoulder. I was there when he confessed everything to me, about his childhood, his drug abuse, everything. I was the only person left to help, even his family had finally given up on him. But not me, I'll always be there for him. Always.

The End

((A/N: Damn that got a tad emotional while I was writing that. Thank you to everybody who has read the story and supported me, HUGE THANKS. I couldn't do it without you. I really hoped you all enjoyed the story because I don't just write because I enjoy it, I write to make other people enjoy it as well. So, yay. -MU))