This is My Note part 2

"JOHN!"

Bang.

Sherlock took two steps into the flat before falling to his knees. John's now-lifeless eyes stared up at the ceiling, looking towards the Gods. Blood streamed down his cheek, pooling on the floor and staining his clothes in the velvet red. 

His friend was dead. His only friend... Gone. Sherlock was once again along in the world.

John's face as he pulled the trigger, surprised and anguished. He had seen Sherlock... He was his last sight before he had gone and killed himself. Before he left to be with Sherlock, in the Hell/heaven he had gone to in John's mind. John was willing to die, just because Sherlock was dead... To be with his friend. 

Sherlock sat there for a long time before slowly crawling over to take John's computer, the note still painting the screen in it's text. He read it through, his mind not excepting what he was reading.

John's life was nothing without him in it, that is why he had killed himself. Sherlock understood. Opening a new post, he begun to type:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am Sherlock Holmes, and I am not dead.

Everything I did, my whole death, was a lie. A trick in order to save John H. Watson. He is now dead. Dying moments after posting his last blog. He had shot himself. He said his life was empty without me in it, saying that is why he killed himself. I feel the same....

My life is nothing without John in it. I will not go back to the loneliness of an empty flat. A flat that only John Watson could fill.

He wasn't just a live in or my blogger to me, he was my best and only friend. I will not breathe another moment without him in my life. He made me a better man, a better person. John Watson made me human. He made me feel emotions, made me learn the way of a normal life. Even though it may have seemed like I didn't care of appreciate it. I did.

My wish was to die with him, it has been for a long time. I will have my final wish.

I believe in John H. Watson.
-SH

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sherlock pressed the post button and took John in his arms. His life-less form limp in his arms, Sherlock took him over and sat in John's favorite arm chair. Gently, he pried the gun from the cold fingers, setting the safety off and aiming it at his temple. 

John spread across his lap, Sherlock looked into the lifeless eyes one last time.

"I will be with you soon, John."

A deep breath. "One..."

Another. "Two..."

A final breath. "Three..."

Bang.