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Literature Text
This one comes and this one goes
So here we are across the road
"Sherlock?" __________ couldn't breathe. "H-He-"
Oh, I have seen your beauty grow
Where all this fades, you shine in gold
Our love will be legend
If we let it go, let it go home
So here we are across the road
"Sherlock?" __________ couldn't breathe. "H-He-"
John nodded, swallowing hard. "He's gone. O-Our flatmate is gone, actually."
She watched as they wheeled him away on a stretcher. She wanted to reach out for him, to see him, but she was terrified as well. ___________ felt her eyes flooding with tears. She couldn't stop them.
Even in death, Sherlock was the only person able to make her cry so outright.
John turned away and clenched his fists. "That idiot."
_________ felt the sob erupt from her body, suddenly and sharply. She felt cold air channel into her nose as she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. She couldn't. She felt her knees tremble, and John caught her. He pulled her close and rubbed her back.
"I-I know. I know."
In whispers, in whispers
You say: let it go, let it go home
You say: let it go, let it go home
They spent months in the quiet flat, hardly able to breathe in the scent of the place without being reminded of Sherlock.
Occasionally, John caught ________ wearing Sherlock's clothes.
Occasionally, _________ caught John brushing the violin carefully, as if he were truly afraid to touch it.
________ expected people would offer their condolences. She dreamed she would angrily push them away. "You never talked to him! You never cared!"
But no one visited. No one stopped by. People avoided her as if her cloud of sadness would rub off on them.
Finally someone said it.
"Let it go."
It wasn't Lestrade or Mycroft or anyone.
It was John.
Taking all our time we rode
Through the town where we grew old
Our stories and pictures
Oh we let them go, let them go home
Through the town where we grew old
Our stories and pictures
Oh we let them go, let them go home
"John?"
"Let it go, just let him go."
"John-"
"You need to."
"I can't, John. You haven't either, John. He's your best friend and you've let it go? Don't tell me you have."
"Yes, you can, just as I have. You're a strong young lady and I think-"
"John-"
"_________. He'd want you to. He'd say it was a 'petty flaw in your life and that you'd need to start over again' or something remarkably cruel like that. Don't you understand?"
She nodded and smiled soberly. "I'm going to bed, John, it's midnight. I'll see you in the morning."
He nodded and sat down to blog.
Only it wasn't his blog. It was the blog regarding the truth about Moriarty. A futile attempt at shaking off the blood and the arrogance and the foolishness attached to the name "Sherlock Holmes".
His blog had no followers, but still he sat every night typing and typing until he fell asleep with his neck craned and his eyes tired and dry.
___________ sat in bed, scrolling through pictures on her phone.
One of Sherlock glaring.
One of John and Sherlock sitting at the table, drinking tea, scowling at each other.
One of her and Sherlock on the ferris wheel.
"This is idiotic."
But a smile had spread across his face, even if it was.
"I thought we'd grow old together," she mumbled, tossing her phone away. She buried herself under the covers and closed her eyes, trying not to let the tears out.
Oh
Whistles
Whistles
Suddenly her phone let out that little whistle noise and she sighed. She wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone.
Oh, I have seen your beauty grow
Where all this fades, you shine in gold
You've gotten more beautiful each day I've gone. Since I'm gone now, you're not cloaked in my shadow any longer. You can shine on your own, my dear. I love you. Though these words are strange on my tongue, I cannot deny their truth. Please go on, and forget me - SH
Our love will be legend
If we let it go, let it go home
Surely this love will continue on, I am no idiot. You still wear my clothes, if I am deducing from death correctly. But, if you let this love go, it will be legendary. It will be the substance of stories you tell your children. It will be the most wonderful memory you can remember. It will be the remains of me, and all you must do, is let go. Go on, as I've told you before. Knock me off of my pedestal and dismiss your tears, for I wouldn't want them to fall as I have. That likens you too much to me. Always remember that I love you. - SH
Literature
Hurt (Sherlock x Reader)
He set in his chair, staring at the fire as it burnt in front of him. Today had been a long, hard day for the old detective. Years you two had spent together. Years. And today was the last time he ever saw you. Your eyes were closed like tall those times he woke up with you sleeping by him, but this time, he wouldn’t see them fluttering open.
John tried to follow him, but Sherlock shut the older man out. Everyone he knew was shut out because the one person he wanted to be there was gone. You were gone and it was eating him up inside. But he decided to do something he hadn’t done since you got sick. He picked up his violin. He kne
Literature
Apology - Sherlock x Reader
‘I’m home,’ you call up the stairs of 221B Baker Street.
You lugged the shopping bags with you until you finally reached the flat that you shared with your best friend John and his roommate, Sherlock. You’d been living with them for about 2 months now and you were never bored with the antics that were going on.
‘Thank god you’re back (y/n), I need to go out. Anywhere but here, just make sure he doesn’t blow the place up or something,’ John sighed as he indicated to Sherlock who was lying on the sofa curled up and facing the back of it. John threw his coat on, kissed your cheek and ran out the
Literature
Insecurities (BBC Watson x Reader Drabble)
It had been a long day. Your boss had not only spilled his coffee on you and your most recent project but had also chewed your head off for the failure of a project that wasn’t yours yet he some how felt you were responsible for. You’d missed the bus and had to either walk home in heels or wait for another hour and a half, wanting to get home you’d chosen the prior, and to top it all off your boyfriend had canceled your dinner plans because his flatmate insisted he go on a case with him.
All in all, you were ready for the day to be over and it wasn’t a surprise when you crashed and burned on the couch, fully clothed,
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CASE THREE -
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