Oneshots Part One

Just a Random Sherlock Oneshot

A/N: Trigger Warning: Suicide

Sherlock looked around the reception, his smile slipping from his face. Everyone looked so happy dancing together. He quietly moved through the crowd, avoiding touching anybody and went to retrieve his coat.

“Leaving so soon?” the man said.

“Sooner than you think”, Sherlock replied with a sad smile, taking his precious coat off him and heading for the exit. He took one last look at John and his new family, and his eyes filled with tears.

“Goodbye, John”, he whispered, and then walked away, putting on his coat. He hailed a cab, as they always seemed to stop for him, and inspected the driver before getting in. When they arrived at 221B, he paid the man and took a few steps then stopped, and looked at the front door. He absorbed every detail about the flat as he walked in, memorising every speck, smell, feeling and memory, and then reached out to take his hat. He headed up the stairs, looking around as he did so, and then sat in his chair. He took a deep breath, and put on his hat, before reaching into his inside pocket.

Lestrade looked around at all the people dancing, laughing, then stopped when he realised someone was missing. His heart jumped into his throat as he realised that Sherlock was no longer at the party, running to the door, he didn’t bother to tell anyone. He quickly got into his car, and sped to 221B, not bothering to obey the speed limit. When he arrived, the brakes squealed to a stop and he thumped on the door several times before kicking it open, running upstairs to their apartment. He burst in the door and found Sherlock, on the floor, his hat falling off his head and an almost empty bottle of sleeping pills next to him.

“Jesus Christ, Sherlock!” he yelled and knelt down next to him, calling an ambulance. The light in Sherlock’s eyes started to drift away and he tried to smile.

“I’m glad you’re here, Greg”, he whispered in his last breath, before his eyes closed forever. Lestrade covered his mouth with his hand and tears ran down his face.

“What did you just call me? No, no, no, no, Sherlock! Don’t you dare… not now”, he begged, shaking him frantically, “Hey! Wake up. Come on, there’s a triple murder case and the police are stumped as always! WAKE UP!”, he yelled and hearing the sirens approach in the distance, he whispered, “Please”.