"Sherlock! Don't leave me! I-" It was no use that line had gone dead. Unable to move, barely even able to breath, John looked up at the figure of his best friend atop a building. "NO!" he shouted, beginning to run forward but then he stopped.
He had promised Sherlock he wouldn't move. He owed him at least that. Nonetheless, he couldn't bear to see his friend fall to his death
but he didn't dare look way. As his body flew from the top of the building, John felt himself take in a large breath of oxygen, nearly choking on it. The body hit the ground hard
and John felt a tear trickle down his cheek.
Quickly, he ran over to his friend, is dead friend
but no one could deny that he was more than just a friend
he was his other half.
"You damn bastard
" he whispered to the corpse, taking his hand and checking for a pulse. "Don't die. Please
I need you Sherlock." He whispered, ignoring the crowd that was gathering around. He placed his ear to his friends,