You're More than a Bullet

Chapter 1

Sherlock looked down at the street full of cars and the children playing their games. He saw all the people walking, taxis driving, and the squirrels running about. He paced along the edge of the roof and every so often glanced down at the people. The cold fall wind froze his button nose and chilled his face. He turned on his heel; his long coat swung around his long slender legs. He walked towards an old bench that seemed to be older than his grandfather. He sat down and started to reminisce about his time with Watson. A tear fell down Sherlock's cheek. He wiped it off and forgot about it. He started to cry intensely. As the tears drizzled down his face, he decided to ignore it, for there was no one to be embarrassed in front of. As soon as the tears stopped streaming down his delecate face, he wiped off the drops and put his head to his knees.

Sherlock gazed up to the sky and saw the beautiful stars light the almost black sky. The wind breezed through his short black curls. Sherlock realized that Watson was so entirely correct- that the sky was important.

Everything seemed to remind him of Watson. Even just being on the roof reminded him of when they jumped from building to building to catch the serial killer taxi driver. He let out a small chuckle, then quickly stopped. Sherlock bit his lip to restrain from crying. Holding back tears was his biggest weakness. He suddenly realized that he could never show his face near him after being "killed". Sherlock would never be able to see the closest thing to a friend he had. He put his head back to rest it against the metal back of the bench.