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

Chapter Two- The Reunion

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) 

And I don’t want the world to see me
‘Cos I don’t think that they’d understand
When everything’s made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

-          Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls

John
"John, p-please. Look at me," the voice said again. This wasn't real, though! This was just my mind playing tricks on me, and now I was going so crazy that I could even feel his breath on my back and hand on my shoulder. I'd turn around, I’d feel nothing and I'd see nothing, just snow and a deserted graveyard.

I removed my forehead from the cold marble, inhaled shakily and turned around. When I dared to open my eyes, the face in my thoughts wasn't gone- a pair of startling eyes the colour of a storm itself stared down at me. And they were crying. Which meant they weren’t real, because never in a million bloody years would Sherlock Holmes cry. At least not in front of anyone.

"I'm real- I promise you I-"

"NO, YOU'RE NOT!" I yelled, then said through gritted teeth, squeezing my eyes shut; "You're just another bloody illusion, I'm going mad. I'm seeing what I want to see. You're not Sherlock," I slumped backwards against the headstone. "You're just my head."

I opened my eyes again to see that the illusion was still there, then snapped them shut hastily. "Please... Leave me alone, I know you're not real- just like every other time," usually, this would work- there was nothing for a few moments, until I felt a very real hand clutch my own. It felt smooth and safe. Maybe I was sticking his face onto the body of a man in a white coat who was going to drag me off to a psychiatric ward. That was probably for the best, because after tonight I would have probably checked myself in.

"Do I feel like an illusion to you?” And I let my lids drift open to see Sherlock crouching in front of me. He was even thinner than before, if that was possible, and his usually sleek black curls were soaking, plastering to his forehead- but it was him.

"Sh-Sherlock?" I whispered, my lip trembling as he pulled me up to my feet, still holding my hand.

"I'm sorry, John," a single tear slipped out of his eye, followed a moment later by another which fell to the floor below us, thawing the snow slightly. "I don't deserve your forgiveness, or expect it- but I am so, so sorry."

“Two years.”

“I-”

“I thought I was mad.”

“You’re not.”

“You let me grieve…”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

"Sherlock... You… You cock. Why the hell did you leave me like that?" My voice quivered. "I had to bury you!"

"Moriarty's men were going to kill you if I didn't jump, and die as a fraud to the rest of the world- there was no calling them off, so if I hadn't done it, I would have had to bury you."

I couldn’t talk, and I couldn’t breathe either. Everything was hitting me all at once

He let go of me for a moment, and closed his eyes, spreading his arms out at his sides. "Go ahead," he said. "I deserve it."

"You- you did it… to save me?”

"Mrs Hudson and Lestrade, too- Molly assisted me- Moriarty forgot to target her," that's why she'd seemed to be coping better than the rest of us. "Well?" Sherlock opened one eye, and I gulped, before flinging my arms around him, and burying my head into the folds of his coat.