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Summary
Every second that ticks by is a reminder of the deafening quiet Sherlock has left behind. John feels his soul slip out of his fingertips, inch by inch, with every passing day.
At some point, he stops trying to hold on.
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She crouches down next to him and holds his head in her hands. “John, are you alright?”
He continues to laugh even as he shrugs his shoulders, eyes blinking up at her with incomprehensible sadness. “I don’t know,” he chokes out, pressing the curve of skin between his thumb and index finger against his eyebrows. “I don’t…I can’t…feel anything.”
Panic rattles down her spine, cold and sharp. “Well, you’re very drunk, John,” she tries, and her voice doesn’t sound quite as lighthearted as she’d hoped.
“Not now,” he says. He scrubs a hand violently over his face. “Not just now. Always. I—Fuck, I don’t even feel sad ‘nymore.”
“What do you feel?” she whispers.
John’s eyes are wide and terrifyingly blank. “Nothing.” He starts laughing again and draws his knees up to his chest. “Isn’t that odd? I should feel something, shouldn’t I? Angry or…or bloody sad at least, but I feel…” He balled his hands into fists on either side of his head before splaying his fingers wide. “I don’t feel anything.”
A hearth wrenching story that will make your soul bleed
Set after the events of Reichenbach -
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在夏洛克快要回家的时候，约翰自杀了……当然，这是he
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Fav
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Bookmark Notes:
johnlock + suicidal john