BBC Sherlock Imagines

Sherlock x Reader | Goodbye, John

Description: (SPOILERS FOR SERIES 4) John commits suicide after Mary's death.
Warnings: Sad, Death, Swearing.
Word Count: 814
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I'll never forget the call.

I wake up at 4:23am to the sound of the phone ringing. It's been a week since Mary died, and Sherlock and I haven't heard from John since.

I get out of bed and go to the nearest phone. The number is John's house number, so I answer quickly.

When the call connects, I hear sniffling.

"John?" I ask.

There's no answer. Just more sniffling.

"John, what's wrong?"

"Y/n, I can't do this anymore."

"John, I'm coming to you, please don't do anything stupid." I say.

I run to the bedroom to wake up Sherlock, the phone still pressed to my ear. I could hear John sobbing through it.

"John, talk to me." I say, shaking Sherlock.

I press the microphone of the phone to my shirt while I talk to Sherlock.

"Get out of bed, lets go!" I whisper shout.

"What? Why?" Sherlock replies.

"I think John's gonna kill himself." I whisper.

Sherlock's eyes grow wide and he jumps out of bed and runs out the room. I follow after and bring the phone back to my ear.

"John? Are you there?"

"Y/n, I'm sorry." He says.

"John, stop. Sherlock and I are on our way, please don't—"

He hangs up.

"Shit!" I yell.

Sherlock and I run out the door and into my car. I speed all the way to his house, getting there in half the time it takes when driving normally. We run to the door and burst in.

"John!" I yell.

Sherlock goes upstairs and I go into the living room.

I find him, his limp body sits on a chair, a bullet wound straight through his head, the gun not far from. In front of him is a picture of Mary.

"Oh god." I gasp, I shrink to the floor, pressing my hand to my mouth, trying to call for Sherlock but my body won't let me speak, so all that comes out are strangled sobs. Tears start streaming down my face, and I shut my eyes in hopes it will all go away once I open them.

I hear Sherlock's footsteps come down the stairs.

"The gun has disappeared from the drawer—" he stops and stairs at the chair.

"J-John?" He whimpers.

"He's gone." I sob.

Sherlock turns away and leans his head against the wall. I hear him crying.

I take my phone out of my pocket and dial 911.

"911 what's your emergency?"

"I-I need an ambulance, John Watson, h-he killed himself!" I say through sobs. I'll be surprised if the girl on the end can even understand me.

I tell her the address, then hang up and begin to sob again. It's unbearable to lose him. I look at Sherlock, who is still leaned against the wall.

"Sher—" I start, but Sherlock interrupts by kicking the wall. He kicks it over and over making a huge hole. Then he turns and smashes the mirror on the wall. I stand up and go to him.

"Sherlock." I say, putting a hand on his shoulder, he turns towards me and shoves me hard, my back hits the wall with a loud thud. His eyes are irritated. And his face is wet with tears. I look down and shake my head, weeping. I leave the house and sit on the front porch. My head is tucked into my knees as I cry, and I listen to the sound of sirens get closer and closer, and soon they are right in front of the house. Police cars and ambulances surround the house, officers and medics rush in. I hear Sherlock start to yell at them, and then one takes him and brings him outside. Sherlock sits down next to me and lays his head on my shoulder. I can feel my shirt turn wet with his tears.

After almost 15 minutes of us sitting and crying on the front porch, they start to come out of the house. I bring my head up as they wheel out John's body on the gurney. The realization hits me like a bus, and I cry out, squeezing my eyes shut. I lay my head on Sherlock's and we sit and weep. Footsteps come near and I lift my head to see Lestrade standing in front of us.

"I can drive your car back to your flat if you'd like a ride." He says. I nod, and me and Sherlock stand up. I lock my hand with Sherlock's as we walk to the car. We get in and sit in silence. We've cried ourselves out, and now we're just in shock. I look at Sherlock, and his eyes, once so magnetic, now just look empty.

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IM SO SORRY

May we meet again.

SW