You had first come to England to study abroad. You had never expected to meet anyone and make friends. But you had. You had met John Watson on a trip to the hospital. You had wanted to venture into the medical field, but you needed some experience. You had asked for volunteer help and he was your volunteer. You had to follow him around for the whole day.
That included outside of the hospital where he shocked you by taking you to his flat. He introduced you to Sherlock Holmes and taken you on a case. He even let you examine the body. Both men had been impressed by your observation skills. You ended up becoming friends and they took you on loads of cases in your spare time.
You had become attached to the two and had developed feelings for Sherlock. But being you, you didn’t want to tell him. And you planned to just get over it. But you needed distance, so you started to create one. You started to go on less cases and contact them less. It was easy for John to realize what was going on. He wanted you to just tell Sherlock,, but you couldn’t.
“I understand,” John had said, “But if you need me, Y/N, I’m always here.”
Then he had left. But you had spent the whole day smiling at his words. To hear that was unusual for you. You were so used to being alone. No one was ever truly there for you, so you were usually always there for yourself and others. But John made you feel like you had a brother and friend in him. If only you could get over the Sherlock situation.
Sherlock seemed frustrated about your absence, so he would often text and call. You just ended up ignoring most of them. Sherlock hated that and would give you long speeches of how rude it was. You tuned it out and waited until he would say something interesting.
Today, you had gotten 33 texts and 17 calls from him. You sighed and went back to your dorm. Surprise, surprise, Sherlock was waiting for you.
“Your phone obviously works and you get free periods,” Sherlock said, “So you’re just ignoring me. Care to explain why, Y/N?”
“I’ve been busy, Sherlock,” you lied.
“Doing what?” he asked.
“Work. School work. And homework. And trying to find a job. I have to support myself somehow, Sherlock,” you explained.
“I can pay you for the cases, he said.
“I don’t want your money, Sherlock,” you sighed.
“Then what is it? Is something wrong?” he asked.
“I just need space,” you said.
“Space? Space from what? What’s going on?” he demanded.
“From you, Sherlock. I’m developing feelings i shouldn’t. And i know you don’t return them. I just need distance so they can go away,” you repeated.
“You love me, Y/N?” he asked softly.
He had his thinking face on.
You hesitated before nodding.
Sherlock gave you a look that you couldn't recognize and he ran out, slamming your door behind him.
You flinched and you felt your heart break. You wished he had just said no or something instead of that reaction. You were heartbroken, and he wasn’t even yours. You tried to block out the emotions, but it was too strong.
You sunk down, your back sliding against the wall. The tears slid down your cheeks and you released a sob. You pulled your knees to your chest and buried your face in them. You were crying harshly now. You could feel your body violently shaking with each sob and your pants were getting wet from the tears.
A few hours later and you had control of yourself. You had cried all your tears and you were just busying yourself with small nothings. You didn’t want to hurt, so you were distracting yourself with anything you could.
Your phone went off and you picked it up.
“Hello?” you answered.
“Y/N, it’s Sherlock,” the caller said.
“Sherlock? What’s wrong?” you asked, listening to his distressed voice.
“I’m a fake. It’s all true. Moriarty is a creation of mine. And he has won,” Sherlock said.
“I don’t believe any of that, Sherlock,” you said, your breath catching.
“I’m on the roof of a hospital,” he told you.
“Well, get down,” you responded.
You could hear him softly chuckle.
“I can’t. But this is my note,” he said.
“What note?” you asked.
“My suicide note. I should’ve said something back in your dorm, but i needed time to process it. I love you, too, Y/N. And i am so sorry,” Sherlock said, “Goodbye, Y/N.”
“Sherlock, no!” you shouted, but it was too late.
The phone had been hung up. You were in shock. You just sat on your bed staring at the phone in your hand. You were waiting for someone to call you and tell you that it was a prank. But no one did.
John burst into your dorm and saw you. You looked into his red, puffy eyes and it was confirmed. You broke as he wrapped his arms around you and you both cried together. You buried him and cried at his grave. But for some reason, it didn’t seem real. Like a nightmare. But when John made his wish for Sherlock to not be dead, you knew that it was a living nightmare and you broke down again. John wrapped an arm around you and helped you get home.
You knew you could try and move on with your life. But you would never forget the nightmare the newspapers called “Reichenbach Fall”.
