Johnlock One-shots

257.Peaceful Death // Hysterical Death

I'm sorry, but if one goes down, they both go down...
----

Sherlock got into bed last night with his fiancé, John, unaware that that would be the last time they would ever speak to each other.

“Goodnight, my Love.” Sherlock said, curling up in John's arms. John smiled and wrapped his arms around Sherlock. “Get a good rest, tomorrow's our big day,” he rubbed John's cheek softly, cupping it and staring into his eyes. “I can't wait to marry you.”

“I can't wait to become a Holmes,” John whispered, kissing Sherlock quickly.

“A WatsonHolmes,” Sherlock corrected. He frowned then, staring into John's eyes. “Are you sure you're going to be okay? You've been sort of weak the last few days.” He rubbed John's back and pulled him closer.

“Ah, yeah, I'd never postpone our wedding, Sherlock. I'm going to be fine, I'm just a little sick.” He smiled and leant up, kissing Sherlock's lips. “I love you. Do you know that? I love you.”

“Yes, I know. I love you too, John. Goodnight.” Sherlock kissed him back, then pulled away. They closed their eyes.

“Goodnight, Sherlock… I love you.” John coughed into his hand and cuddled into Sherlock's comfortable body.

But John's eyes never opened again. Sherlock woke up in the morning, yawning. He stretched and kissed John's forehead before getting up. They fell asleep pretty early, and John was still resting? He shook his fiancé’s shoulder. “Rise and shine, Lovebug! We've got to get ready for our wedding.” He frowned when John didn't wake up. “Baby, it's time to wake up…” He could sense something was wrong.

John wasn't… he wasn't moving. His chest was still. It wasn't moving. He wasn't breathing.

Sherlock panicked. “No! No, John, not you!” he shook his shoulder again. “John! John, please, John, let this be a prank!” He started pressing on his chest and trying to get him to breathe. Not knowing what else to do, Sherlock started sobbing hysterically and ran downstairs, in only his sweatpants, screaming for Mrs Hudson. She saw the state he was in and they went back upstairs, running into the room.

Mrs Hudson called the police and ordered an ambulance, Sherlock tried to bring him back to life. He was crying so much, he could've been crying out a river, or even an ocean. He sobbed and pressed on his chest, connecting their lips to pump air into his lungs. He was frantic.

“John, please! This is our wedding day!” He begged and begged. “John, please! Please, I love you! John! Don't die, please, I can't live without you,” Sherlock knew there was no use. He fell over onto the bed, his head on John's bare chest. He cried loudly, squeezing his hand. “John,” he whispered. “I need you… I-I can't live without your smiling face to get me through every day…”

The next thing Sherlock knew, they were taking John away on a stretcher. That happy, sleepy smile on his face. That's how he died. That's how he'll be until his body decomposed. Sherlock followed them, yelling to them that he was his fiancé and they were going to get married today, so he needed to be saved.  

But that didn't happen.

John died in his sleep, and their wedding turned to disaster. Sherlock got incredibly high and stumbled in, he told everyone that John was gone, then he took a knife and started to cut his wrists, screaming about how much he loved John, how he couldn't live without him. Everyone there had obviously been waiting for the two men to show up and get married. They didn't expect this.

Lots of people stood up and started to try and help Sherlock. Others stayed at their seats and called the cops, or just sat there, shocked.

“I love you, John!” Sherlock yelled, stabbing the knife into his stomach. He vomited and fell over, but kept stabbing at himself, his organs, puncturing his skin and damaging what was inside. He knew that he would die. He needed to die.

“Sherlock!” Mrs Hudson yelled, bending down next to him. He couldn't hear her anymore, her voice was so far away. He looked around at the blurry scene around him, then his pretty green blue eyes closed.

“I… I-I love John…” He whispered. That was his last words. He stopped breathing after that, his sweatpants and hoodie stained with blood and holes. That's what he put on to go to the drug den, and he didn't change to go to his 'wedding.’

He died and was buried next to John.