SHERLOCK I, II, III & IV • #wattys2016

Alone

"You almost feel ashamed that someone could be that important. That without them, you feel like nothing. No one will ever understand how much it hurts."  - Agyness Deyn

It's Christmas. God, already? Last Christmas you were receiving texts from Irene Adler and making yourself look like a complete fool in front of Molly Hooper. Remember that? Ah, I bet you do. I thought, for a change, that I'd visit Sarah. I hadn't kept up with her since we separated, but I thought that Christmas would be a good time for me to pop in. 

It didn't go quite well.

I gave her a ring to let her know I was coming. She said it was quite all right and that she had guests over. She failed to mention that her new boyfriend was with her. God, how completely awkward. I walked in there, actually pretty excited to see her again. Bloody hell, Sherlock, she was gorgeous. You should have seen her when she walked out from the kitchen, holding a tray of stabbed fruit.

Seriously, I could have fainted, or jumped her. But instead I gave her a babyish wave and cowardly made my way to the fizzy table. Later, I mustered up enough courage to kiss her on the cheek and wish her a 'Merry Christmas.' She was nice. She kissed me on the cheek and said 'Merry Christmas, John.' Right there, I think for a moment, I fell in love with her again. Though, that's when a big oaf came behind her, looked at me as if I was a parasite, and said, "Oh, you're the short chap Sarah told me all about." Also, right there is when I needed one of your solid one-liners to shut him up.

But...you weren't there. And I had to stand there and take it. On and on and on he went, touching her and talking about his wonderful career. And then he asked me what I was up to. I told him that I wasn't 'up to anything.' I don't think Sarah knew about your death. If she knew, she wouldn't have asked about you. Oh God! That was awkward. I about broke down right in front of the whole damn lot. 

She said, "John, where's your bizarre friend?"

I replied, "Oh, Sherlock? Oh, he's..." and then that's when I had to find a seat and gulp down my drink. Sarah came over and sat down. She was very kind, asked me what was wrong. I asked her if we could talk in the hall, so, we did. I told her what happened and how you died. She cried. Then I cried. And then I kissed her. Big mistake because her boyfriend came across me and started yelling at us. Everyone looked at us and Sarah, I suppose not wanting to ruin her reputation, asked me to leave.

I did leave. And I went back to Baker Street where I was greeted by your skull on the mantel. I had to laugh because Mrs. Hudson had put a Christmas hat on it. And, well, here I am. Back in the ol' cave. It's so quiet without your violin humming in the background. I still have it -- I wrapped it up and placed it under your bed. I don't take it out. It's just nice knowing it's there. Jesus, Sherlock. Why did you have to leave? Why did you bloody have to leave? Why?

You won't believe this, but this evening, I got mad at Mrs. Hudson. I yelled at her. Cursed and even broke something. I forgot what it was, but my hand and shins hurt afterwards. I've never gotten this mad-- not even at you. But you leaving has made me madder than when you were here being a complete moronic show-off. You know, Sherlock, you would be the only person I would talk about something as horrible as your death. But you're not here. In fact, no one is.

I'm alone.