Hello once again audience. This is my new story and i hope you like it. For the record i wholeheartedly agree with Sherlock's outlook on the prospect of feelings but that doesn't mean that i cant recreate other ppl having them. please review to tell your thoughts of the story or to explain to me how crying helps review. it would be appreciated.

Chapter 1

John was sitting on in his chair reading a book, when there came a knock at the door. He stood to answer it, and was met by the sight of Sherlock Holmes standing at his door in his usual billowing coat and silk shirt. John was at a loss for words, he took a step forward.

"Sherlock?" he asked.

"John I'm home," Came his reply.

"Oh, god I have missed you so much Sherlock! More than you could ever think. I love you Sherlock."

"I love you too John."

They leaned in to kiss, and went over to sit on the couch. John cuddled up to Sherlock and drifted off to sleep.

Xxxxxx

John awoke with a start and looked around. He was in his room and there was no Sherlock. He had been dreaming. Again. He put his face in his hands as he attempted to stifle the tears. He could not let himself cry this morning, he just couldn't. He would most likely fail in his attempts though, and he did. He cried for his friend for a good length of time. It didn't make him feel better but it gave him something to do. Reluctantly he swung his legs over his bed and grabbed his cane. He limped heavily over to the door and slowly made his laborious way down the stairs.

He made himself some tea and toast out of habit and sat down with his phone as he opened his messages. He scrolled down to conversations with Sherlock. He looked at the date and choked. It was the anniversary, how could he have forgotten. His dreams had gotten so bad that he had lost the need for checking the date. He had made up his mind. He opened the messages to Sherlock just as he had for the last three years and composed a message which read:

I will see you soon.

He sent it and got busy getting ready to visit the roof of Barts.

Xxxxxxx

Sherlock awoke with his head throbbing, he had just finished with his goal of capturing all of Moriarty's men. He had stopped to sleep at a motel just out of London before he collapsed out of exhaustion. He had been on his way home to John. He had missed his blogger so much. It felt strange not to have John by his side as he caught the criminals. When he succeeded, every time he would expect an exclamation from his side, but when it wouldn't come he would remember that John wasn't there. He would also remember the reason he wasn't there.

Sherlock knew he had to fake his death, but he most certainly didn't like it. He knew he had hurt John and Mrs. Hudson, but he didn't have the slightest idea of what Lestrade had thought of it. Sherlock had gone through various scenarios in his head of what John's reaction would be like. Ranging from John being extremely happy, to Sherlock getting punched in the face repeatedly

For once in his life Sherlock was nervous about something. When it came to John the guard around his emotions had been demolished. He still didn't express that John had made him put down his guard, but he knew it on the inside.

It was ok though, he would see John again and order would once again be restored to his life. Then at promptly 8 am he received his daily text from John. He opened it and read:

I will see you soon.

What did that mean? Did John know that Sherlock was alive? He pulled out his phone and dialed his brother.

Mycroft answered on the second ring as usual.

"Hello Sherlock, to what do I owe the pleasure of this early morning call?"

"How has John been lately?" he promptly asked.

"Why-"

"Never mind that now. How has he been?"

"I am sorry to say that the good doctor has been in a state of deteriorating health."

"Explain."

"After your death he had gone back to using the cane, and of late has been a victim of severe depression and antisocial behaviour. Why the sudden interest?"

"I just got a text that from him-"

"Wait- he texts you?"

"Every day. But this one read 'I will see you soon'. What does it mean?" Sherlock asked, he heard Mycroft curse on the other side of the line, he spoke frantically to Sherlock.

"He still believes you to be dead, I believe he had intentions to-" Mycroft paused before continuing on, "I believe he had intentions to join you."

"Sherlock's mind raced, if John thought him to still be dead how could he possibly join him- Oh, oh god he couldn't! He wouldn't!

"You don't mean?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes I believe John intends to kill himself, Sherlock you have to hurry if you plan to stop him before it happens."

"Mycroft watch him and give me updates," Sherlock hung up and gathered his pistol and left all of his other belongings in the rundown motel besides his scarf and coat. Sherlock dashed down the street and hailed a cab. He told the cabbie to go as fast as possible to London. They sped off down the road weaving in an out of cars. When they passed the city limits of London they were promptly pulled over by the police. Sherlock groaned and the cab pulled over. He looked behind himself at the car. Oh, shit, this was going to make this so much more difficult.

DI Lestrade got out of the car and approached Sherlock's cab. The cabbie rolled down the window.

"Why were you going so fast? What's the rush?" the DI asked.

"Why don't you ask the fella in the back?" the cabbie replied.

Sherlock sighed as the DI knocked on the passenger side window motioning for him to step out of the cab. He took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped out with his back to the DI.

"Turn around Mr.-"Lestrade implying that Sherlock was supposed to tell him his name.

Sherlock swirled about while saying:"Mr. Holmes, Sherlock Holmes."

Why hello, i hope you liked the beginning of this tale. plz review. Feel free to tell me about any spelling mistakes because they bother me a lot and i don't always catch them. the next chapter should be up an couple of days.