Disclaimer: Not mine. Song belongs to A Great Big World, and Sherlock belongs to Moffat, Gatiss, BBC and definitely Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
A/N: Not my usual style, but I was listening to this song (on repeat) and thought it fit Post-TRF very well. Pre-TEH. So here's how this is working for me. John's dialogue is taken (almost) fully from the song. A couple swears and a Sherlock or two, but otherwise it's all song lyrics only. Not necessarily in the proper order, a couple words changed tenses, and I tried to make it not song-ficcy at all. Sorry! I'll try to not song-fic ever again.
John Watson, Captain, Medical Doctor, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, stood before the black marble headstone with his head bowed and fists clenched. Even so, his eyes were glued to the name inscribed in gold. Sherlock Holmes. His best friend. His reason for... everything . He began to speak.
"Sherlock, I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you. And anywhere, I would've followed you, dammit! I am feeling so small. It was over my head, and I knew nothing at all." John lifted his head, tears falling from midnight blue eyes, darkened with grief.
"And I will stumble and fall; I'm still learning to love, just starting to crawl. I'll be the one, if you want me to. Say something! I'm giving up on you. " He almost turned away here, but felt he had to finish. He just had to. It was killing him to hang on; to have that hope.
"And I will swallow my pride; you're the one that I love, and I'm saying goodbye." John turned away, never seeing the shadow watching him from the trees.
Just one more miracle.
16 February, 2014
Word Count: 184