Excuses, excuses

Chapter one.

~I woke up this morning in a panic, blood was pumping through my veins faster than it should be. I'd had another nightmare, it was horrible, I hated them but they still happen every time I close my eyes, I see him, that skinny stuck up foolish man that had been my only friend. Now he was gone forever and I was left alone, alone in this dark, damp flat. I used to love coming home from the surgery and seeing that old door with 221b on it but, now every time i see it, it's just a reminder that it's only me and Mrs Hudson going though that door. No more deducing happened in that flat, no more violin being played at silly hours in the morning, no more cups of tea were made for two, and no more boys, just boy, just me. John Watson.

It took me several months of more counselling after he left me. I thought I was done with all that, he had made me better. He fixed me with the thrill of the chase and the excitement of solving crimes, but now I'm a nobody. I'm nothing to anyone, just some sad, lonely, pathetic man who sleeps in his dead friends bed every night so he feels closer to him and doesn't miss him quite so much. My counsellor was a man this time. I wanted to get away from the woman therapist I used to have when I met my consulting detective. My counsellor was so understanding and nice to me. He was good and I always remembered to thank my counsellor for trying to help me, but every night when i went home, made myself a lovely dinner and went to sleep, I closed my eyes and dreamt of him. I dreamt of his last words, the phone call, or as he worded it, his "note", I didn't understand, but now I clearly do understand every word he said to me because every night those words played over and over in my mind. "Goodbye John". Those words were what always woke me up in a panic, wiping the sweat off my brow and laying down in the hot bed. A tear began to slide down my cheek as i started to think of those words again. I've only broken down three times this year, whether or not this was thanks to my new counsellor, I couldn't tell. The last two years, I was a mess, but, after my new years resolution that I made to Mrs Hudson after her begging me to stop crying so much and keeping her awake with worry, I decided to try to make this year a good year. The first time I broke was when I had to walk past St.Barts to get to the restaurant I was meeting Harry in. I had agreed to meet her for some sunday lunch and a catch up, but I walked into the restaurant with tears streaming down my puffy, reddened cheeks. The second time? That was when i had gone back to 221b Baker street after spending a couple months away from it. I walked back in and the smells of his old experiments had hit my nose, and back came the tears once more. The third, and hopefully the last time, was tonight. The tears increased and fell down my nose onto my cheek then dripped down my chin, I felt the warm tear fall all the way down and then another started its journey down my face. I looked around the room, studying every little detail, thinking of all the things that happened in and around this room. I couldn't stop the tears and began sobbing into my... his pillow. Eventually, my tiredness from lack of sleep wore me out and I fell back asleep in a pile of damp sheets covered in tears.

The next morning, I awoke to a cold breeze on my face. I sat up in his bed and looked at the window, which was covered in a steamy mist of nighttime condensation. Did I leave that open all night? My thoughts were so caught up on him, I had forgotten to close his bloody window, it's freezing in here! I push my body off the bed and landed in a pair of blue fluffy slippers Harry had bought me for my birthday. I walked over to the window to close it when I saw... marks? Marks that I had not made, finger prints. I yelped back in shock because they, obviously, were not my finger prints, did someone break into my flat? Did they steal anything? Is Mrs.Hudson ok? Suddenly I pricked up from the sleepy slouch I was in and ran to the kitchen where his stuff was. Thankfully, it was all safe and I felt an ease come over my body as I relaxed. I hated the thought that I would lose anything of his. I held onto his stuff like a puppy to its favourite chew toy. It was my only reminder and I wasn't going to let anyone else touch them. When I walked back to the room and closed the window, I went to the draw beside my newly claimed bed and opened it up. Inside were a couple of objects, a knife for safety, his favourite book, "The adventures of Bennie and his magnifying glass". It was a childish book but for some reason he always loved it, and I loved it too, so i kept it, there was also a third item. An item that I had barely even touched since he left me, once to check a text from Mycroft, and a second time to check another text, from Harry;

John I'm worried, please contact someone MH

Brother, please I'm so worried, no one will tell me where you are and how you are, ring me, text me. Anything. HW

I answered neither of those texts when they first arrived and had thrown the phone back in its draw, however, today I held it in my hand, the device where I heard his last words, his "note" to me. I hated holding it because so many horrific memories came rushing back me, but I was scared, I was scared about the fingers marks by the window so i turned the phone on, went to messages and opened up a new message, there i typed;

I need your help with a little case JW