A Photo Of John

Their Last Chapter + Epilogue

Sherlock bent back down and ripped a piece of his jacket off.

" John, I'm going to put pressure on this wound."

The last thing Sherlock wanted was for John to bleed to death.

Sherlock was in his logical state of mind, without this, he would crack.

John grew more and more awake as he started to look around.

" Where...where am I? Whereami? whereamiglosrefdg..."

John started drifting off again.

A terrified look grew in Sherlock's eyes.

" John! Don't leave me again! I can't lose you! Stay with me John, stay with me. What is your favorite color? John?!"

" Hmm?"

" John, what's your favorite color?!"

John opened his eyes and looked at Sherlock's face.

" Blue. Or green. Whatever bloody color your eyes are..."

John closed his eyes again.

" John!"

"John!"

An ambulance pulled up to the gate of the cemetery, two men hopped out of the back, carrying a stretcher.

They ran to the coffin and placed John in the stretcher, with Sherlock following close behind.

As they placed his body in the truck, Sherlock tried to get in too, but was stopped by one of the doctors.

" What is your relationship to this man?"

Sherlock sternly looked into the man's eyes and stated clearly:

" I am his fiancée."

The doctor nodded and let Sherlock through.

He held John's hand all the way to the hospital, crying silently.

John was alive, John was here.

He would never let John go.

...

...

...

( One Month Later)

They were sitting in Lestrade's office silently.

Sherlock and John were sitting next to each-other on a couch, Sherlock's arm around his waist, hands clasped tightly.

They had not separated once over the course of the last month, by now everyone had accepted it.

Lestrade held a CD in between his fingers, as he stood next to a TV, pacing.

" John, you are healed now, correct?"

John nodded quietly.

When he had been taken to the hospital, they found multiple stab wounds and significant damage to the ribs and skull.

He sat down, and faced the two men.

" I understand this is difficult for you to recollect, but I need an explanation for this. If you were kidnapped by James Moriarty, I need to know what he did and as many details as possible in order to find him."

John took a deep breath.

" The body in the cab crash wasn't mine. It had most of the same proportions...but It wasn't me. As soon as I walked out the door of 221B I felt hands around my neck and everything went dark."