Shadows of the Past (BBC Sherlock) -1-

23. The Aftermath

The news had spread like wildfire worldwide. Twitter trends began, and Facebook pages spawned surrounding the incident.

It had taken John and me a while to get back to 221B. I was mostly to blame, as I had wailed for hours in the street, bawling my eyes out at the sudden loss of...

For some reason, it was hard for me to even think his name.

It nearly killed me to deliver the news to Mrs. Hudson. When I'd broken it to her, she'd reacted like I had; only perhaps she was ten times worse. She'd been closer to him than I had ever been. I had thought back to the last time I'd spoken with him and our relationship as a whole. We had become as close as an American and a sociopath could be in the short amount of time we'd known each other.

That first night was rough for both John and me. I knew it'd been rough for Mrs. Hudson too; it was a given fact. Whereas she probably cried the whole night without sleeping one minute, I couldn't get comfortable. John had become an insomniac that night, slumped in his armchair, glaring out the windows in the apartment. As for me, I was probably the only one who got minutes of sleep. I ended up sleeping on the floor. For some reason, the couch wasn't agreeing with me that night.

It hadn't been the only thing that had disagreed with me that night.

I slowly opened my eyes, expecting to see him pacing around or sitting in his armchair, but he wasn't. I sniffled, rising up off the floor. I realized the living room was empty except for me. I guessed John had gone to bed finally, like me, at some point during the night. Maybe he'd given up not long after I had. We both needed sleep. We both needed a lot of things right now.

As I searched for John, I kept placing him everywhere I looked. I pictured him playing his violin. I remembered how his music had actually lulled me to sleep one night. I'd expected him in the kitchen, to be doing some experiment like John had told me he had a tendency to do. But my heart broke every time I realized he was gone.

You never knew just how much you missed a person until they were entirely removed from your life, no matter if they were the closest to you or merely an acquaintance.

I was befuddled as I came up empty in finding John. I pursed my lips, wondering. I turned my phone on, extremely tempted to call him. If he was out, I needed to know where he was, who he was with, and what he was doing. I felt responsible for him.

My phone vibrated in my hand at least six times in total, the last message appeared to be from John. He was visiting his therapist and could possibly be a while. Huh. I never knew John had a therapist. There were a lot of things I probably didn't know about him.

The nagging sensation of the theory came back into my brain. I pushed it aside, wondering if I should go to therapy.

I checked my five other unread messages. All were Amanda, like I should have expected. All were about The Fall. All involved the same things. Are you okay? How did this happen? Call me so we can talk! You probably want some space right now, but please call me soon! I know you'll want to talk.

I decided I'd call Amanda later once I ate. I found that difficult to do. Was this what it felt like, to lose someone close to you? Well, he wasn't exactly close to me, but we at least lived in the same apartment for a while. He had become a part of my life, playing a slightly bigger role than I anticipated.

I barely poked at the cereal in the bowl. The table quivered as my phone vibrated. I sighed, recognizing it was Mandy calling. I gnawed on the inside of my cheek as I answered.