I believe in you - Sherlock Fanfiction.

Copyright: I dont own Sherlock, John, Mrs Hudson, Lestrade (ect, you know the characters.) I only own Holland and my other characters I have made up for the story. Enjoy.

Update: Hey guys! As I write this, this story and the sequel has already been completed and published. However I'd like to let you know in advance before you go ahead and read this story, that there is new (completely different) Sherlock fan fiction I've posted called 'Human Error' which is, in my opinion, more detailed and planned, filled with fluff and also Sherlock is more 'in character', I also have lots of throwbacks with young Sherlock!

When I started writing 'I Believe In You' I did not plan it out very well and in all honesty, my grammar is shit af. For some reason, however, I have received positive reviews about these badly-written books, and because of that I will not delete them. So feel welcome to proceed and read! Just a heads up that there is a better fanfiction on my profile that is not so cringe-worthy as this one. 

To give you an idea of how my writing has improved, I have edited this chapter. But hunny I am way to busy to be re-editing the rest of them to rid them of my grammar mistakes. Read at your own risk.

Anyway, thank you for choosing to read my work and I hope you enjoy!

~

"What?" Was all John could get out of his mouth.

Sherlock Holmes stands in front of him in all his glory, looking like he's just come back from a case, attired in an immaculately tailored suit with a slight crinkle at the bridge of his nose. I knew it was Sherlock Holmes since I read Johns blog and plus I've seen pictures of him in the paper. I wasn't a 'big fan' as some people were, but I was interested in Sherlock's and John's life. I was happy John had a friend like that when he came back from the army, and it came as a massive shock when he told me his friend had died.

After Sherlock died, John came in contact with me again and we met up for coffee and since then we've been close friends. I tried to help John move on from Sherlock and to pass over his grief by hiding the newspaper or changing the channel news every time they mentioned the most cleverest man on the earth had died and was 'proven' to be fake. It had been three years and John had finally moved on, but now, Sherlock is standing in our apartment which he let himself into. I guess he would do that, considering he used to live here.

"What?" John repeated again, unsure if what he was seeing was real. Technically, it is possible that he's hallucinating. He'd had a fairly good amount of sleep, woken up in the morning without the remnants of a nightmare behind his eyes, opened the door in the morning, bleary eyed and half-asleep, with nothing but the singular thought of retrieving his newspaper. It's possible that he was hallucinating, but he wasn't. As soon as he shut the door and turned around with his newspaper in his hands he saw his best friend Sherlock Holmes.

I heard a lot about Sherlock Holmes from what John had told me. The way he observes everything and the way he dressed and talked. It almost had an effect on John.

John observes because Sherlock had taught him how to, and the man in front of him is all flesh and bones and smelling slightly of standard airline shampoo and stale coffee, slight traces of dirt under his nails that clearly hadn't washed off despite repetitive attempts, eyes alive and bright and so very, very unsure—

Oh, Sherlock, Sherlock, what have you done?

Sherlock clears his throat and speaks, scratchily at first, like he's tasting the words in his mouth for the first time. "There is a thing on your face," he tells John, pointing a finger at his moustache. "Did you know that?"

AN: lol also guys season three hadn't even aired when I wrote this so yes, I am that clever and I can also predict the future. c;