Only Yours

1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, they are all owned by the BBC!

John stepped forward and knelt down on the cold, hard ground. He couldn't believe it had been two years since Sherlock had... jumped. John carefully laid down the rose then stood up and for the first time, let himself relive that day.

John had driven all the way around London, looking for his flatmate. He went to all Sherlock's favourite haunts, ignoring the pointing and whispering coming from the members of the public. To them, he was the best friend of the disgraced detective who had recently been revealed as a fake but for once John didn't care what people were saying.

He had looked everywhere. For some reason he felt uneasy, unsure what Sherlock was capable of doing in this state. John stepped out of the taxi at the last place on his list and looked around, but Sherlock was nowhere to be seen. He buried his face in his hands, realising that Sherlock could be anywhere.

Then his phone rang.

The black marble gravestone was newly polished, very neat. It had his name in block capitals but no other writing. John didn't know, or care, why Mycroft had decided not to include dates. Even if he had cared, he wouldn't have asked. Neither men had made any effort to contact each other after Sherlock had jumped.

Sherlock, are you okay?

Turn around and walk back the way you came.

Sherlock had seemed so desperate, swaying on top of the hospital. His voice had stuttered. John had never, ever heard Sherlock's voice tremble before.

I'm a fake.

Sherlock-

The newspapers were right all along. Tell anyone who will listen to you.

John could feel the tears brimming in his eyes and hastily wiped his hand across them. He had never believed Sherlock was a fake, which was why he hadn't carried out these instructions. When Mycroft had proved that Moriarty did in fact exist, John had wondered why Sherlock told him this. Then he remembered there was no point in wondering: he would never know.

It's a trick, just a magic trick.

No. Alright, stop it now.

This phone call... its my note. That's what people do, isn't it? Leave a note.

Leave a note when?

Goodbye, John.

When Sherlock had stretched out his arms, the world had seemed to stop. Then as he leaned forward and began to fall, it went in slow motion.

As John had watched his flatmate and his best friend fall, he had realised what he felt for the detective.This was when John had realised he loved Sherlock Holmes and always would.

Hello, this is my new Johnlock fanfiction which was requested by a reader! I watched all three series but if I get anything wrong I apologise!

-Jordan x