It was dark outside.
It was dark inside.
Snowflakes were falling outside.
One by one by one.
Tears were falling down his cheek
One by one by one
Outside someone was laughing.
John doesn’t remember the last time he laughed
“Are you wearing any pants?”
John took a drink
Time ticked by
He took another drink.
Another tear fell.
Christmas music was playing somewhere
“Remember our last christmas?”
Haunting. It’s like you’re haunting me.
“It was the christmas with Irene Adler.”
He needed another drink.
He stood up and walked to the kitchen.
“I remember how we went christmas shopping together. I, of course, thought it was boring but you wanted to get presents for Mrs. Hudson and Molly. We walked through the shops and I was always complaining.”
John stood by the window and watched the snow fall.
One by one by one.
The brokenhearted man standing in the dark watching the snowfall alone mourning the man he loved while drinking.
“Merry christmas, John”
John fell to the floor and held his hands over his ears.
Why are you still here? Why do you still talk to me? Why can I still see your pretty face and those beautiful curls? Why can I still see your body and hear your soothing voice? Why?
Why do you keep haunting me?
Go away. Leave me alone.
I said: LEAVE ME ALONE
God was he sobbing?
Look what you are doing to me, Sherlock. Even though you are dead you still effect me like this .
A warm hand on his shoulder
It feels like falling.
Just like Sherlock fell.
“John are you okay?” He blinked at John with concern “You had a nightmare.”
Oh. Of course.
Sherlock wiped away the tears that were rolling down John’s cheek. John’s hands were shaking. Actually his whole body was and the loneliness and the grief he just felt in the dream was still present and tearing his mind apart.
“John I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s okay. You’re okay. Promise”
Sherlock put his arms around John’s chest and pulled John’s body against himself. John could smell Sherlock’s scent and felt his silky curls against his cheek. John felt protected and loved but was also terrified that this might just be a dream. John grabbed Sherlock’s shoulder and pressed his face against Sherlock collarbone.
“I thought.. Oh god Sherlock I thought…”
“I know. Shh. It’s okay.”
And there they sat entwine together, three years after that hateful and lonely christmas where John believed Sherlock to be dead. Sherlock rocking John’s body in his arms kissing his forehead and John crying into Sherlock’s shoulder not daring to let go in fear he might disappear.
Outside the snow was falling through the dark night.