Time Makes it Harder (JohnLock)

You Can't Bring Him Back

(A/N Probably sad)

 John stands at the podium, his hands shaking as he holds the bundle of index cards. Glancing out at the crowd he looks at everyone, trying to figure out who he knew. He can recognize both of their parents, both sniffling and dabbing their eyes with tissues. Everybody is dressed in black, and the whole area seems somber. He takes a shaky breath and steps towards the mic.

"He was the brain. He always knew what to do and when to do it. I was the heart. I held all the feeling in the relationship. Granted, he felt it too, he just didn't always show it. When he did, it was a rare and special occasion. Like the time I picked him up from the train station half a year ago from the war. When he lost his brain, the ability to know what to do and when to do it, he lost himself. When I lost him, I lost my heart, so I lost myself." His voice cracks and in order to stop himself from breaking down completely, he backs away from the mic, leaving all the card behind.

He had so much left to say. So many stories about Sherlock, their love story, his crazy quirks, his hilariously pessimistic view on life.

Sneaking out the back door he sinks against the rough stucco of the church building. Cars line the front and back of the church.

So many people loved him. He looks up to the sky.

"I'm sure you didn't kill yourself because no one loved you. I just wish I knew why."

John buries his head in his hands and begins to cry. First small tears drip from the corner of his eyes, but within minutes, he's gasping for breath through the heaving sobs that overwhelm his body. He can faintly hear himself screaming out for Sherlock, and the world seems blurry, out of focus and in slow motion. The faint sensation of someone touching him snaps him back into reality as he's led to a black car.

His body shakes and his arms yearn to hold Sherlock one last time, his lips to touch his again, to lay next to him at night.

But there's no bringing him back.