Johnlock Fluff (mostly) Oneshots

See Him

Hey yall, I've got 30 minutes before my English teacher sends me some more work so enjoy a small, slightly sad chapter from yours truly x

John's POV
I was at my therapists house and she was trying to give me some pill that would make my dreams of Sherlock stop but she didn't seem to understand why I didn't want them, or why I didn't want my dreams of Sherlock to go away. 

It was 5 months after Sherlock had jumped and I was still having dreams about it every night. Every night there was a dream but it was real. The dream would be a memory, some small thing that happened years ago of Sherlock and I when we were happy because we had just solved a case and we were celebrating or something like that. Those were the nice ones.

Then, there were the not so nice ones. 

The ones where we fought.

The ones where he got hurt. 

The ones where he jumped. 

But what my therapist didn't seem to realise that I needed those dreams. 

I needed them more than anything. 

Because that was the only way I could see him, speak to him, hear him.

Without those dreams, I wouldn't have coped. I couldn't have coped. they were my only means of sanity because it meant that I had someone I could actually talk to. 

But now my therapist was trying to take that all away. 

She was trying to get me to be alone again, without Sherlock in my dreams.

She kept on saying that I would feel better without seeing him in my dreams.

She kept on saying that I would get over him quicker,  that I would forget him and move on quicker.

But I didn't want to move on.

I didn't want to forget him. 

Eventually, she gave up on trying to get me to take the pills. I think she gave up on me completely because I was too goddamn stubborn to forget him. But she didn't understand that those dreams gave me hope that he was still out there, even though I knew it should be impossible. 

Everyone thought I was crazy for thinking he could come back. 

Everyone seemed to think that he was gone forever.

Everyone seemed to just accept it.

No one seemed to care.

A few months passed and I stopped going to my therapist. She just made everything worse. All I wanted was to see him again in person. 

I wanted to tell him I was sorry for not being there for him. 

I wanted to tell him I was sorry for making him jump.

I wanted to tell him I loved him. 

So that's what I told him in my dreams. When I started to tell him those things, my dreams always started to... change. If I told him I loved him, he would yell at me for being in love with him and how he couldn't return the feeling because he was a sociopath and he was married to his work and that I should know that.

That's when I wanted the dreams to stop. 

But I couldn't stop them. I needed to see him. I needed to hear his voice, even if he was yelling at me. 

Another year passed and I had basically given up all hope. If he was coming back, he would have come back by now. It didn't mean I didn't want him to come back thought. I wanted him to come back more than anything. 

One day, I walked into the living room to see him standing at the window, playing his violin softly. 

"You- I- you're supposed to be dead!" I practically yelled at him. He spun around and smiled at me.

"Long story short, not dead" 

I couldn't help myself. I ran towards him and engulfed him in a huge hug, tears streaming down my face. 

"Don't ever leave my again" I sobbed. "I love you"

"I'm sorry. I love you too" He whispered into my hair. 

My brain was trying to comprehend what was going on. 

He was here.

I could see him. 

He loved me.

I could see him. 

He's back.

I could see him. 

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Hey yall hope you enjoyed, I finished this 3 minutes before I have to get back to class. Anyway, I'll update later or tomorrow, baiii x