Beside You- A Johnlock Fanfiction (BBC Sherlock) *UNDER HEAVY EDITING*

Chapter One- Unexpected

A/N- This chapter has been rebooted and improved, so please let me know what you think! 
A/N- Second reboot added. (10/02/14) 

 SONG- HOW TO SAVE A LIFE by THE FRAY.

These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die,
like fire and powder,
Which, as they kiss, consume

-  William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene VI

John

"I'm a fake."

Three simple words that will never be true- at least I know that, and I can’t be the last.

"Sherlock..." I believe in you- I know you're real. Nobody could fake being... you...

"The newspapers were right all along," he continues to try and sway me, but I refuse to listen- he's not. He can't be- how could he say this about himself? And how can he think I’m such an idiot I’d actually believe in? I’ve seen him, I’ve always seen him and what he can do and he’s real. "I want you to tell Lestrade, I want you to tell Mrs Hudson and Molly- in fact, tell anyone who will listen to you... That I created Moriarty for my own purposes."

"Okay, shut up, Sherock. Shut up. The first time we met- the first time we met, you knew all about my sister, right?"

"Nobody could be that clever.”. Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP, Sherlock. Stop it. Stop this.

"You could," I hear a small exhalation from the end of the phone, indistinguishable between a snort of laughter and a sob. Any other time, I’d assume it was a snort. This time, I’m not so sure.

"I researched you. Before we met, I discovered everything I could to impress you. It's a trick. It's just a magic trick." Somebody's making him say it. Sherlock's always so sure, and the voice at the end of the line is unsteady. His words have never shaken before- not like this. Maybe Moriarty’s holding him captive, like he did to me at the pool, and pointing snipers at Sherlock and forcing him to say all of this. Or maybe this is just another nightmare. God, I hope it’s the latter.

"No, alright, stop it now," I start to move forwards, and hold my hand out to reach for him- from what I can make out, he puts his own hand out to call me to a halt. I want to wake up now.

"No, stay right where you are," he orders me. "Don't move."

"Alright."

"Keep your eyes fixed on me. Please. Will you do this for me?"

"Do what?"

"This phone call... It's my note," he says. "That's what people do, don't they... Leave a note?"

"Leave a note when?" He's not going to... No, he wouldn't. Sherlock wouldn't. Wake up, wake up, WAKE UP.

"Goodbye, John," He tosses the phone to the side, but I keep saying his name, hoping he'll hear me- he stands for a moment, and spreads his arms out by his side. God, no. NO.

Then he jumps, and my heart stops as he starts to plummet to the earth in slow motion- A voice screams his name- my own- and I can't move. I can’t say anything else but ‘Sherlock’ and ‘No’. And then I can’t breathe. It feels like my lungs have threw themselves down to the floor with him. This wasn't really happening. This can't be happening.

But it was- it had happened countless times, and I felt my body shudder as I knew he was hitting the ground.

Again.