60 Ways to Say Goodbye - A Johnlock Fanfiction

Chapter Fifteen

Today is the 1st Anniversary of the day I heard about Sherlock. It was two days after the airing of Reichenbach. I remember my friend, Olivia coming to me in math (which we hadn't had the previous day). She looked really sad. She asked if I knew the show, and I didn't at the time. Then she asked if I would ever watch and I told her no (ha!). So she told me why she was so upset. That John and Sherlock love each other and Sherlock jumped off a building because Moriarty's dead and then Sherlock's dead but Sherlock's not dead. I was just like wtf.

Remember, comment, fan, vote and tell your Sherlockian friends to read :)

~BB

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 15

I was still confused about why Sherlock left so suddenly last night, but I couldn't hold onto that thought for very long.

I woke up this morning to the sound of someone banging on the door downstairs.

I rolled over and looked at Sherlock. He had his head covered with his pillow.

"John, door," he grunted.

I tore the covers off of myself. I didn't want to get up. I wanted to sleep longer. I was having a good dream. I couldn't remember it now, but I know it was good.

Taking one more look at Sherlock who was still comfortably in bed, never bothering to get up, I dragged my feet to the front door.

I opened it to see Mycroft. Out of instinct, I tied my robe tighter.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, kind of annoyed.

"You were sleeping? Don't you have work today?" He asked. I wished he would stop following me.

"Day off, actually," I notified him. "Now if you would tell me why you're here, I would appreciate it."

"I'm here to congratulate you and my brother," Mycroft said. He held up today's newspaper.

I snatched it from his hands.

The headline read: Sherlock Holmes; The Genius is Back!

I read the article. They used some of the quotes Sherlock had given them at the interview yesterday, not excluding the line about our relationship.

I handed the paper back to Mycroft.

"Well thank you," I told him.

"Can I see my brother?" Mycroft asked.

"Why would you want to do that?" I asked him. They had their whole rivalry thing. Sherlock being dead for a while wasn't going to change that. Was it?

"Why would I want to see my brother? A strange question for most people, but unfortunately fitting for our relationship," Mycroft analyzed. He always made the problems that they had seem like Sherlock's fault.

Someone came up behind me, slipping their arms around my waist.

"Mycroft," I heard Sherlock acknowledge his brother.

"At least you're wearing pants this time...well kind of," Mycroft commented.

"Sweatpants count as pants, Mycroft. They have the word 'pants' in them!" Sherlock argued.

Mycroft sneered, taking his defeat.

"See, this is why you should stop coming here," I told Mycroft. "You two can't be in a room for more than a second without arguing about something."

"I just wanted to say that I'm..." Mycroft looked as if it pained him to say the words," ....happy for you. It must have taken quite a bit of convincing to admit your feelings for this sociopath."