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by Wendoott

by Wendoott

[773 words]

oof huge time skip

Sherlock opened his phone, suddenly getting bombarded with two years worth of drunk texts from John.

[12:59 AM] Sherrlockc i neeed helo

[12:59 AM] I miss yoiu

[02:15 AM] Dont ve dead pleasr

[08:03 AM] I'm sorry Sherlock.

[03:48 PM] I'm a real doctor now. :)

Shrock smiled at the last one he read before scrolling down some.

[05:36 AM] Sherrloxk pleasr comeback

[02:22 AM] I've met someone but they cant compare to you.

[02:22 AM] No one can compare to you...

[04:46 AM] I can't sleep because when i do, all i dream are dreams of you.

[04:51 AM] I love you.

His heart raced, knowing this was from two years ago made the warm feeling instantly cold again. He quickly scrolled down to the most recent one. Ten months ago.
[10:57 PM] Why aren't you answering your phone?

[10:58 PM] Oh yeah.

[07:08 PM] i miss u :(

He couldn't keep reading after that, remembering what he texted to John on Christmas so long ago.

It broke his heart to lie to him, it did but he did it for John. Mycroft set Sherlock off with information on John's where abouts later in the evening, hoping their reunion would go well. But before seeing him again, he had to revisit 221b Baker Street.

He wandered in, greeting Ms. Hudson like he had never left. When he looked inside of the flat, he saw everything the same. Smiling to himself and joking around, he saw his violin case hadnt been touched. and his sheet music had been neatly put away. The two chairs for him and John remained in their place as did the cluttered kitchen table. Still holding a mountain of fragile glass tubes and graduated cylinders. He looked around the cabinets and the drawers and stopped at the drawer John kept his gun.

He froze, seeing how worn the small wooden knob was, like someone had repeatedly opened and closed it over and over again. There was a few stains of old alcohol on the floor and small shards of glass remained. Sherlock frowned and got out of the flat.

He decided to visit everyone else first, John would be last and Sherlock would tell him he loved him like he planned to two years ago on when John left his family dinner for him. He smiled as he reminisced their relarionship, hoping it'd return to the way it was and maybe even more. He approached the restaurant that Mycroft said John had a reservation at, and sure enough he could see John in the window sitting alone looking anxious.

Sherlock got the idea to wait it out for a few minutes before plopping into the seat infront of his old friend.

"Excuse me, I think you have the wrong tabl.." John's face turned from worry to anger when he saw Sherlock's sheepish smile.

"John." Sherlock smiled lovingly, the feeling going to his eyes as his pupils dialated.

John snorted and stood up. "Two years." He muttered, "Two years you made me go through." tears pricked at his eyes, making him look to his feet. Sherlock stood too, moving his hand to try and cup John's face, only to be smacked away. The look for hurt clear on his face, trying his best to put the blank stare back on.

----

Sherlock contacted Lastrade, asking about John. He had arrived back at 221b but with a bloody nose and bruised cheeks.

"It may not be my division, but almost every night i would get a call from him and have to drop whatever it is i am doing to make it to the cemetary..." He paused taking in a breath. "John would be sitting against your grave, drunk off his arse, crying for you, and whining your name as i pulled the gun out of his mouth." Sherlock's heart broke. The thought of sweet John wanting to die with him made him hurt. For the first time in very long, Sherlock felt bad. He felt the heavy thumps of his heart, the fire in his lungs and the way the tears trickled down his high cheekbones and down tracing his jaw until reaching his chin to fall onto the floor. He felt the physical pain that came with it, his body telling hin something was wrong but not knowing where to find the problem. Throat screaming in pain from the dry and quick breaths being taken in, his skin suddenly felt itchy and he needed something or else he thought be would die.

He needed John, it was always John.