snowwhite and the doctor (sequel, Johnlock)About two to three hours were passed by but John was still not there. Sherlock sat in his chair, thinking about what had happened. What did John say?
"I have had a crush on you since we met and all you can do is fool me? It's no surprise no one likes you!"
Sherlock sighed and shook his head. His flatmate, John Watson, the guy who claimed everyday that he wasn't gay, had a crush on him? That couldn't be. But then he remembered the kiss. John had been the one who kissed Sherlock, not the other way. Whatever, Sherlock thought. He was sure, that John would come back soon. If not, he probably would stay at Sarah's, because every time when they had a dispute, the doctor ran to Sarah. That meant, that Sherlock hadn't to worry about John, but he still did.
The detective sighed again, rose from his chair and looked out of the window. Dark clouds were hiding the starry sky and Sherlock knew there would be a snowstorm soon. Of course John would be back before the storm, except he would sta
all because of one sheet (Johnlock)"John?"
"Mhm?" John looked up from his laptop and raised one eyebrow at his flatmate. "What i-..." He blinked and tried not to concentrate on the completely naked detective in front of him. "Sherlock? What the hell are you doing?"
"I can't find my sheet."
"Put on some clothes!" John stared at his laptop, he didn't dare to look up again, even as Sherlock was laughing.
"I just wanted to ask you, if you have seen my sheet somewhere. But as a result of your reaction I deduce that you haven't. You are ashamed to see your flatmate naked, or possibly like it, because you blushed and you can hardly keep yourself from looking at me again."
"Would you please shut up, Sherlock?"
"I'm right, am I not?"
"Damn, no, Sherlock! You aren't right! And I don't like this experiment very much! I'm begging you, put on some clothes!"
"Why do you think it's an experiment, John? I'm just looking for my sheet, but I can't find it. Maybe Mrs. Hudson put it away..."
"Yeah, maybe." John grumbled. "Go and ask her!"
never stop waitingJohn got out of his bed, put on his clothes and walked sleepy to the kitchen. He sat down, yawned and mumbled, "Morning, Sherlock..." Then he grabbed for the teapot maybe Sherlock has put again a hand or a eye in it, but he didn't care and wanted to fill his cup.
Now he noticed, that the teapot was empty and he rose his head to ask Sherlock, why he didn't make tea this morning. But the chair across from him was as empty as the teapot. There was no Sherlock. There won't be a Sherlock anymore. Because Sherlock was dead.
John sighed and blinked the tears away. Since one week, every morning the same. Every morning again he believed that Sherlock wasn't dead. But he was. And John was also dead, physically. Since Sherlock died, he didn't eat anything. He rarely drank. The flat was a totally mess. John himself, his thoughts and feelings were a totally mess.
He rose from his chair and switched on the radio. Maybe music would be able to stop him from thinking about Sherlock. But t
three years after reichenbach fall (3)"... me too, John."
I blinked and rose my head, as I heard Sherlock speaking. What did he say? He did what too? I was confused. Did I say something? I couldn't remember. Maybe I was thinking out loud. But... I didn't think anything, didn't I?
"Oh... I see." Sherlock laughed. "You have forgotten, that you said something one minute and thirty-three seconds before. I should have expected that."
I blinked again. I really said something? Over one minute ago? Now Sherlock was back and time was passing so fast, while time was sneaking, when he was gone. I sighed. "What did I say, Sherlock?", I asked. I really couldn't remember. Maybe Sherlock was teasing me, but I don't think so. Sherlock never teases. If he said I said something, I really said something. But what?
Sherlock was smiling, I was just confused. "Sherlock! Don't look at me like that! What did I say? I want to know?" I couldn't say why, but I got nervously.
"You said 'I love you.', John. I'm surprised you've forgotten it
three years after reichenbach fall (2)I laid my cheek into Sherlock's palm, while he was softly stroking my face. I felt a little bit like a dog, which has missed his owner, but I didn't care. I just was happy about Sherlock's comeback.
Now I opened my eyes again, which I closed a moment before, and looked straight into Sherlock's. He smiled, I smiled back. I still can't believe I wasn't dreaming.
"Sherlock...?", I whispered, while I was grabbing his hand, just to hold him. Just to assure he was real.
"Yes, John, I am real. I am Sherlock Holmes. I am not dead. I am alive. And I am with you."
I smiled. Same old Sherlock. No one else could see trough me like him. I closed my eyes again, leaned against his chest and put my arms around him. He hugged me too and for the first time after three years I felt safe.
But there was one thing different, I could feel it. One thing, but I didn't know which it was, wasn't the same any more. Could Sherlock feel it too? I lift my head, looked into Sherlock's eyes and tried to find something
three years after reichenbach fall (1)It has been about three years, I think, but I still can't believe he's gone. I even can't believe that only about three years have passed by for me it was about three thousand years.
Today I believe it was Monday. Or maybe Tuesday I really don't know and I also don't care. I'd never care about weekdays since Sherlock fell. I only remember that I've visited his grave in the last two years every second day but this year, I left it out. There was too much pain.
The last time I visited the graveyard was about a few months ago... I believe it was nearly Christmas, because of the lights and Christmas-decoration everywhere. And because of the snow fall. Small snowflakes fell gently on Sherlock's grave, which looked lonely and colorless within the white snow and the leafless trees.
I was stroking the tombstone and whispering some things like I miss him, I need him and this stuff, I always said. That's the only thing I remember of. I don't know how I get there, I