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However, I know exactly when the thoughts started. It was snowing outside, quiet crystals drifting to the ground. Muffling the rest of the world.

The world was so dull without Sherlock.

The thought comes to me suddenly, and for the first time in months, hope bubbles up in my chest.

'Maybe, just maybe, I can see him again.'

I drag myself out of the armchair, his armchair, and hurry to the bathroom. Reaching shakily out for the medicine cabinet, I dare not look in the mirror.

I'm afraid of the aged old man I'll undoubtedly see.

I turn the knob and reach for a bottle of benzodiazepine pills, awkwardly stuffing as many as I can swallow into my mouth. I'm not very sure about how to do this. After gulping down the first mouthful, I repeat the action and sit on the toilet seat to wait, satisfied that this will be enough.

Ugh. I don't feel so good. Suddenly, I lurch forward, catching myself just in time. Is the room spinning??? I hear someone screaming who is it and why is it so muffled I can barely hear anything?????? I'm going to throw up my head hurts pain splitting pain kill me now pain pain pain pain pain pa-

Sherlock's frantic face, icy eyes sparking as he gestures for me to stop.

A tear glimmers as it tumbles off his (almost transparent?) alabaster skin.

The world is black.

End~
(A/N I'm so sorry. I had other plans for the end of this (similar tho) but I've had absolutely no motivation to finish it lately so I cut it short. sherlock is a ghost in this btw and the part at the end actually happens. whether or not it's a hallucination bc of the drugs is for you to decide. okay im done here bye)