There's still time to save him! [SuperWhoLock]

The empty apartment

Hello, this is my first time posting my work on the internet so I'm a tad nervous! I would love and appreciate it immensely if you could take the time to read the start of my fanfic and comment (any advice or problems you have with it are very much welcomed and appreciated as well) There will also be some Destiel momemts and maybe one or two Johnlock moments. Thank you so much! xx

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John Watson sat alone in his apartment, staring at the empty armchair opposite him. The breeze from the open window swept through the army doctor's hair reminding him of how cold and alone he felt. It had been four months since his best friend fell and he had barely moved from that chair. He was paralyzed from the emptiness he felt, the same emptiness that surrounded him after he got shot. John had been visited a few times by Mycroft, Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson all offering comfort and support but all John could do was push them away. How could he get hurt again if there was no one left to hurt him? He stood up, placed his cold half-drunk coffee on the little table beside him and weakly walked over to Sherlock's door. John gently placed his fingertips on the loose door handle as he remembered the way that Sherlock used to slam the door whenever he didn't get his way. John smiled to himself. He had been trying to work up the courage to open Sherlock's door for the last four months but he just couldn't because if he did it meant that Sherlock defiantly wasn't coming home, that Sherlock Holmes was dead. John gripped the door handle tightly and slightly turned but he couldn't cope with the overwhelming sadness so he let the door handle slip out of his hand and rested his head upon the faded door. Not today. John Watson was so tired of missing his best friend and sick of the darkness. "Sherlock... I need some help" a single tear rolled down John's cheek. The defeated doctor let himself slide down the door until he hit the hard carpet. He had hit rock bottom... again. He wrapped his weak arms around his legs in an attempt to stop them from violently shaking as more tears fell to the ground. John wondered if he was ever going to get better, god he needed to get better.

John was startled when he heard a quiet knocking from downstairs, great another visitor he thought. John quickly dried his tears and miserably descended the stairs, with every step reminding him of all Sherlock's experiments that took place on that very staircase. John smiled to himself but it quickly faded again once it hit him that he would never walk in on any of Sherlock's experiments again. Waiting patiently at his front door was his landlady, Mrs. Hudson holding a bunch of yellow roses.