Sherlock Imagines and Preferences

Wait For Me To Come Home

Song: Photograph by Ed Sheeran

Loving can hurt, loving can hurt sometimes

But it's the only thing that I know

When it gets hard, you know it can get hard sometimes

It is the only thing that makes us feel alive

''Sherlock!'' You yelled as you ran up the stairs to his flat. You just saw the news and just couldn't believe it, you had to know if it was true. You unlocked the door with your key and rushed inside. The entire flat was empty. You shook your head vigorously as tears rolled down your cheeks. You sank to the floor and held yourself as you cried your eyes out. It was true. You didn't want to believe it but it was true. Sherlock Holmes killed himself.

We keep this love in a photograph

We made these memories for ourselves

Where our eyes are never closing

Hearts are never broken

And time's forever frozen still

A week had passed and you were on your way back to your flat after attending his funeral. The others were still there but you couldn't stay a single second longer. You held yourself together during the cab ride home but as soon as you closed the door of your flat, you broke down. You curled up on the couch and cried. You were lost without your consulting detective. He was the best thing that ever happened to you. Your relationship was perfect in your opinion and you loved each other very much. But he's gone now.

So you can keep me

Inside the pocket of your ripped jeans

Holding me closer 'til our eyes meet

You won't ever be alone, wait for me to come home

It's been three months since Sherlock died and you still couldn't move on. John had met someone and left 221B Baker Street. You abandoned your flat and spend most of your time in Sherlock's old flat, staring at pictures of him and crying on his bed. You quit your job because you just couldn't focus anymore. John had recommended a therapist, like he did to cope with Sherlock's death but you didn't want to talk to a stranger about your feelings. You hated talking about your feelings and with Sherlock you never had to. He knew exactly how you were feeling and what to do if you weren't feeling well. He never asked you about it, whatever it was at that moment, and you were grateful for that. You stared at yet another photograph of you and Sherlock as you cried more and more.

Loving can heal, loving can mend your soul

And it's the only thing that I know, know

I swear it will get easier,

Remember that with every piece of you

Hm, and it's the only thing we take with us when we die

You haven't been to 221B in two months. You completely isolated yourself from your family and friends. You spent most days alone in your flat with a bottle of alcohol or whatever else you could find to help you numb the pain. Nothing worked and you ended up crying again as you did almost every day. There was a knock on the door but you didn't bother to check who it was. You cried silently on the couch, clutching the empty wine bottle. ''(Y/N), open the door. You can't do this forever. It's been five months, (Y/N). You need to go on with your life again.'' John pleaded. ''Go away.'' You croaked. You heard John sigh on the other side of the door but he didn't leave. ''Open this door or I will open it myself.'' He threatened. You ignored him and didn't move. After a few seconds of hearing nothing, John took a few steps back before he kicked your door open. He saw you on the couch with the wine bottle and rushed over to you. He sat down next to you and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly.