I have a BUNCH of these sitting on my computer from when I'd just watched Reichenbach Fall and was all depressed and just wanted happy John. So I'll probably put them all up. Sorry guys. They're all real short though... Still. Enjoy and review? :D

It started out as mumbling, whispers, of something that John had written only once, but still didn't quite understand what he had meant by it. It was more than just words… It was a ray of hope, in a way. He'd heard the words being said, only in hushed tones to start with, all around London; it had gotten louder and louder, until everyone was saying it. But he never thought it would become something as big as it was now. Something that people would proudly shout off the rooftops, spray paint on walls, wear on shirts, jumpers, scarves, hats, anything they could, something that would make it to the evening news.

I believe in Sherlock Holmes.

They were on Sherlock's side. They believed in him. It was something John had never thought would happen, that anyone else would take his word that Sherlock wasn't a fraud. That he was that good. But he had taken the pessimists approach to life- that it goes on, even after the death of a great man.

He was wrong, because people did care. London cared. The walls, the streets, the people were proof of that.

John smiled. Maybe Sherlock had underestimated the power of ordinary people… And maybe he had too.

Hope it was ok! I can't really tell, I'm writing horrible-ness lately. But I think it's acceptable.