I decided I hate having a heart. It ceased to beat as strongly after Sherlock left, it must've shrunk. I started to hate the world around me for letting him die; I began to hate myself for letting him die. I believed him my true love as corny as it seems. Now I'm left to wonder if I can ever be worthy of love again after letting him jump, after not being able to tell that he needed help. I pray everyday for him to come back, for me to feel something besides anger, to be with Sherlock in heaven. He told me he was on the side of the angels but he wasn't one; he is now. He told me not to make a hero of him it was too late then, I already had. He rescued me from the drone of life after the war, he made me feel alive again, he made me love life. In my story Sherlock had been the hero, but what is a story without a hero. I killed for Sherlock, I'd do it over and over again without hesitant. A man with a shattered heart will go to all means to repair it, this ending helps me to conclude that standing on the edge where he stood is perfectly logical, as Sherlock would've wanted. I won't leave a note, there's no need, everyone should be able to conclude what happened (besides Anderson, of course). I look down over the edge of St.Bart's at the place I watched Sherlock's body land, perhaps I'll land in the same position. I take a deep breath and release it as well as all the anger I have at the world. I'm sick of teetering on the edge, I jump.
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Johnlock Oneshots
FanfictionWarming myself up to write a Johnlock story! The cover is an original Strand Magazine illustration by Sidney Paget of Sherlock and John. I accept oneshot theme requests as long as their Johnlock.
