Chapter Text
John Watson was not depressed. John Watson had a flat that he loved, a job that he loved, and a girl that he loved, therefore he was not depressed. Two years. John would keep counting the days, the years, and the months, since Sherlock Holmes had died. But, for now, only two years had passed.
Mary had heard a little about him. The guy that John mentions something about when something exciting happens, or even dangerous. The infamous Sherlock Holmes. Mary wasn’t stupid, of course she had done her own research on this particular man. She hadn’t come across any pictures, but she did know that Sherlock had committed suicide, because he was pretending to be a fake genius, and had made up dozens of cases just to keep up the act. Mary was a little concerned for her boyfriend, but seeing as he was still recovering from the loss, left him alone about it.
John, on the other hand, was not thinking about Sherlock Holmes. Definitely not. All right, yes he was. But John knew that, instead of dwelling on his death, he should think about the fun memories of him. And so he did. Even when Lestrade came by with a box of Sherlock’s stuff from the police department, John only thought about the good things he knew came out of Sherlock’s life. It wasn’t until John put a tape of bloopers of Sherlock’s on did he actually talk to himself. “What do I do?” Sherlock’s voice rang out across the silent flat, kind of scratchy from the CD. “I can tell you what you can do. You can stop being dead.” John answered him, smiling sadly to himself as he took a swig of his scotch. The door rang at that moment and the video had to be paused, and sadly, never watched by John Watson again.
But, after John had left the room, without him realizing it, the CD unpaused itself, because of an improper TV wire. Sherlock continued his little speech to a quiet, empty room. “Ok… Hello, John. I’m sorry i’m not there at the moment, I’m very busy. However, many happy returns. Oh, and don’t worry, I am going to be with you again, very soon.”