DON'T BE DEAD

CHAPTER 5

A/N: Sorry it's taking me so long to update but I am preparing for University and it's taking a lot of my time hahahah. 

You can listen to this song while you read this chapter!!! Please leave a comment with your feedback, it always makes my day :) 

Thanks a lot for the support and for reading it!!! 

Anyway, here is Chapter 5! I hope you enjoy it!! <3 <3 <3

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The next morning John woke up, showered and prepared himself a nice warm cup of tea.

Sherlock didn't sleep much because he knew that John was going to visit the flat and he was afraid of how John would react when he saw that Sherlock wasn't dead.

The detective finally got out of bed and found Mrs. Hudson leaving a tray with a cup of tea in the kitchen.

"Morning Sherlock!" she said with a warm smile

"Good morning Mrs. Hudson" replied the detective, who suddenly frowned and asked

"So it has always been you who brought tea every morning?"

"Of course! What were you expecting?" said the woman laughing. The detective just shrugged and said

"I thought it just sort of... happened". Mrs. Hudson laughed at the comment, hugged Sherlock and went back to her apartment.

Several hours later, John dressed up and got on his way to 221B.

Meanwhile Sherlock had been waiting the whole morning for the doctor, but he didn't show up. The detective started getting nervous. Did John regret the idea? Did he think he wasn't truly ready to visit 221B? He entered in a spiral of negative thoughts, with a sad smile on his face.

After a while, Sherlock laid on his bed, and involuntarily, he fell asleep.

John arrived to the flat late in the afternoon. He pulled the key out of his pocket and held it in his palm, staring at it. After a few seconds, he inserted the key into the lock of the door, hearing the familiar "click" of the door unlocking. He pushed it  open and went inside. Partway down the hall, John stopped, staring at Mrs. Hudson's door and breathing out an anxious breath. In his head, he starts to hear Sherlock's violin playing. Then, he looked up the stairs as a snippet of an old conversation sounded in his mind "That was the most ridiculous thing I've ever done" "And you invaded Afghanistan!". John smiled sadly as the memory faded out from his mind.

Then, he saw Mrs. Hudson opening the door of her apartment. He went inside, where the woman gave him a cuppa and some biscuits. John noticed how mad she was and apologised for not keeping in touch with her. The woman understood how much he had been hurting and how hard it must have been for him, but still, she would have liked a phone call. Nevertheless, she forgave him. Sherlock had asked Mrs. Hudson not to tell John that he was alive yet, since he didn't know, and she obeyed. John stayed there for a little while, talking to the landlady, until he decided to finally go upstairs to see the flat he had been living in for five years.

Once he got in there, he started to remember everything: their first case together, their afternoons drinking tea silently, Sherlock shooting the wall or playing violin...

It was a bit dark because it was getting a little late. John sat on his armchair and his stomach twisted at the sight of Sherlock's empty chair in front of him.

The detective opened his eyes and looked at the time. 'I must have fallen asleep' he thought to himself. He was going to get out of his room when he started to hear someone crying 'John' he thought. How was he going to tell the doctor that he was alive?

John stood up and started pacing around the flat; nothing had changed since he left. Mrs. Hudson hadn't dared to clean the flat nor rent it. Then, all of the sudden John heard it, he heard his voice. It couldn't be right, it couldn't be him, no.

"Great" he said chuckling "I am definitely going mad!". He bursted into a nervous laughter, but stopped laughing when he heard it again, louder and clearer this time

"John." The doctor turned around to see him standing there in front of him. He was thinner than usual; his cheekbones were more marked than ever; the detective's dark curls were a little bit messy and longer that they used to be; he had a slightly pained expression on his face.

John's mouth hung open and his eyes started to burn, causing tears to flush his face. He couldn't believe his eyes. Once he steadied himself a bit he said

"What the-? Sherlock?". His mouth hung open. The detective nodded and took a few steps closer to where the doctor was standing, with a shy smile on his face and said

"Well, short version: not dead"