I'm dead without you (johnlock one-shot)

Its been two years since he died. I have been so miserable. I met a woman named Mary, but my spiral into depression made it end. Molly doesn't talk with me, neither does Mrs. Hudson or Lestrade. All my friends knew I loved him, and I was too late. I can't live without him. I just can't. The first year was okay, the first six months I was alone, and then I met mary. I loved her so much, but after six months I realized what I lost. I lost him. Mary dumped me for another man, and I became more depressed everyday. I found his stock of beer and cigarettes. I drank until I blacked out. I woke up to the destroyed flat and a smashed phone. Drunken rage I suppose.

I smoked three cigarettes and drank today, while journaling. I became drunk as I finished off the last beer and wrote things. Sherlock sherlock... three pages full of his name. God, I miss him so much. I stumbled to the bathroom and found the razor, and cut myself on my arms. I blacked out and woke in a pool of my blood. I cleaned myself up and decided to end it. But, I need to see his grave one last time. I run down the stairs, and I was almost to the door when mrs. Hudson grabbed my arm. 

"Dear, you look terrible, come in please." She looked sad, I pulled my arms back and ran out the door. I walk the rest of the way to the cemetary, silently crying. I reach his grave and begin to pour out my heart.

"Sherlock, listen. I need you. I love you so much." Stutter out, falling to my knees. 

"I-I love you so m-much." I rest my head on his gravestone, sobbing. I calm before speaking again

"I'll be seeing you again soon. I hope anyway. I am going to off myself, I am a piece of wasted space Sherlock. Wasted goddamn space." I take the razor out from my pocket and roll up my sleeve, hoping this would draw him out from his hiding place. If he were alive. Slit, slit, slit. The cuts are deep, and I pass out again. 

 * * *

"Oh my god. Oh my god." I say, sitting up. Sherlock lays next to me in a cot, in a random building. 

"John, its okay. its okay." He tries to say to calm me down, but it doesn't help. This isn't real. He's not real. I pass out, out of shock. 

* * *

I wake up, it was all just a dream. The building part anyway. I sit up in a pool of blood again, and I feel so weak. its light still, thankfully.  I place my bloody hand on the tombstone. 

"I love you." I say, standing up. Its time to do it, commit suicide. I turn and begin to walk when someone says my name, someone familiar. I turn to see Sherlock, standing in my pool of blood in front of his grave. I run and jump into his arms, my heart pounding the whole time.

"I love you too." He says, and carries me all the way home. 

* * *

"John." Sherlock says, while sowing up my arm. 

"Yes?"

"Don't do this, ever again."

"I promise."  I say and kiss him. We cuddle on the bed all night and talk. I have him back 

My Sherlock.

_____________________________________________________________

Hey guys! I hoped you enjoyed and I really appreciate you reading my story! Should I continue this as a story or leave it a one-shot? let me know in the comments!