John sighed as he trudged through the cold snow.

Today was the day. The 1 year.... the word anniversary sounded too cheery for John. This was the day Sherlock had died. Exactly 1 year ago. And John was on his way to visit him.

Today was different. John did not get a yellow rose, but a red one. He didnt really care anymore about what people thought. He knew he loved the Sociopath, but sadly he had never had time to tell him.

He moved through the 2 inch snow, and smiled a little as he saw Sherlock's grave in the distance.

He jogged over, as if he were seeing the actual detective.

"Hi," John panted as he made it to the grave. "I um...." he scratched his head, and shrugged.

"I got a raise today," he chuckled. Not really caring about the snow, he sat down on the grave, and leaned his body against the cement engraved with the words 'Sherlock Holmes'

"Its um.... its been one year..  since you..." he swallowed. The tears were coming. The tears that he had shoved down, were coming back up again in pools of sorrow through his blue grey eyes -they werent that blue anymore... just sort of... dull-, and he continued to speak to the dead detective.

"Since you... jumped," John tried to make it sound pleasant, but it only made It worse.

"I um... I brought you something," he pulled out the red rose, and placed it next to him.

"I know its not the usual yellow one, but..." he heard ruffling in the trees, and he turnd his head lightly, to look behind the grave. There was nothing.

"... not the usual yellow one," he continued, turning back to look forward. "But...." he sighed and closed his eyes, leaning his head back.

"I..." he never thought it would be this hard, especially since hes... dead.

"I... I um.... Sherlock you left and... and I miss you... I wish you were here," he began to draw circles in the snow, while he spoke. "And I know that... its too late and pointless, and I know I'll never get to see you again, or hear your deductions, or feel your feet on my lap because you're to lazy to move them," he let out a cracked chuckle, and tried his best to not let the tears fall.

"But... you're too amazing, and I cant do it anymore. So wherever you are, I hope you're listening," he said, looking up at the sky.

"I cant keep it in anymore,  he sighed, and then took a big breath. "I... I love you," his voice cracked, and he quickly shut his eyes, a tear falling from his right. "And you never got to hear me say it.. I dont... I dont even know if you love me back..." Another tear. "I guess thats best right," he let out a forced chuckle.

He sighed, and stood up, wiping away the tears.

"Its really cold out, so I best be going," he turned around, and took one last look at the grave.

"Goodbye Sherlock, i'll... see you soon," and he turned around.

Sherlock sat in the tree, covered in shock. He watched John leave, and suddenly, his memories recollected, and a tear fell.

He shut his mouth, and jumped from the tree.

He walked over to the grave, and picked up the red rose in the white snow. He looked up, seeing his blogger leaving the cemetery.

He smiled to himself, but it quickly turned into a frown. He felt his heart drop a bit, and his eyes widened

John never says goodbye.

Out of all the times he had visited...

He had never said goodbye

Why suddenly had he decided to do it? Did he not care anymore? He said he couldnt do it, he said he-

Sherlock froze, eyes wide. He choked on his breath, and felt the rose fall from his hands and onto the snowy ground.

"Oh god..."

***

John let out a shaky breath and set down the note with the scrawled out words scratched into the paper. He glanced over to the gun beside him and sighed. He took a deep breath, and looked over to a picture with Sherlock in it. He was smiling. 

John felt his heart lift a little, and only hoped he would be soon seeing his detective again.

He gripped the pistol, and stared at the picture.

He let one tear fall, and he closed his eyes.

He wanted this. He wanted him. And if this was the only way, so be it.

He swallowed, a brought the gun to his head, when suddenly he heard someone burst through the door.

"John! JOHN!"

His eyes snapped open.

it couldnt be...

But it was.

There standing at the doorway, panting, sweating, and disheveled was his detective. His Sherlock.

Sherlock ran over to John, who was only staring at him, his brain not computing with what was happening.

Sherlock began to say things, but John was not listening. His mind racked and exploded, his body shivering.

"John. John, say something. JOHN?!" 

Sherlock began to shake John by the shoulders, tears falling from his eyes. 

John came back to reality and blinked, seeing the crying Sherlock.

He let out a breath he had been holding, and blinked again.

And blinked again.

And blinked again.

And then his fist connected with Sherlocks face.

"YOU....! YOU BLOODY..! FUCK!" He watched Sherlock collapse to the floor, gripping his nose which was now swirling with blood.

"You! How!" John pulled Sherlock up by the collar, fire in his eyes. Rage.

"J.. John," Sherlock ignored the pain, and gave a pained smile, his eyes filling with tears. He reached up to carress Johns cheek, but John shifted away, and dropped Sherlock, his head hitting the ground with a loud clunk. 

John turned around and tears began to well in his eyes. 

He fell to the ground on his knees, and put his face in his hands and began to sob.

Sherlock groaned and sat up to see his shivering blogger weeping in misery.

"J.. John," He moved swiftly, still hurt by Johns reaction, but he crawled to the front of his blogger.

He peeled the hands from his bloggers face, and gasped.

He was absolutely broke. His eyes were rimmed with red, his lips shaking. Those lips that Sherlock so desperately wanted on his own, were tembling in sadness and fear.

"How.. Sherlock," He croaked, tears falling.

The blood had stopped now, and Sherlock was holding John against him.

They were both on the ground, each on their knees. The sun barely shining through the old window in the room. John gripping Sherlocks right bicep with a trembling hand, and his face buried in Sherlocks chest, still weeping. The detective held Johns shoulders, and put his chin on his bloggers head. 

They sat and held the embrace. The desperate embrace they both had thrived for. Needed.

"Im so sorry John," Sherlock whispered, feeling a tear fall.

"Im so, so sorry for everything. The pain. The hurt. Everything. Im sorry," He choked out, and pulled John from his chest to look at him in the eyes, to show him his sincerety.

"I had to... or.. Moriarity's men.. they would have killed you. I needed you safe. Im sorry John," He looked away for his blogger.

John was no longer crying, but taking in the relief that Sherlock was alive and breathing and... everything.

Everything John had wished for in the last year.

"I... i understand," John swallowed and looked away.

After a long silence, Sherlock looked back up at the blogger, who was looking at the ground.

"John," He said, and John looked up.

They held gaze, and Sherlock breathed.

"Why did you try to do it?" It was a slight movement of his eyes, that John knew what Sherlock was asking.

He looked at his hands, and sighed.

"I missed you," he mumbled.

"I... John," Sherlocks voice cracked, and John looked up.

"It was the only way i could have... seen you again and i... i just...." He stopped, and they both just looked at eachother, hoping for the other to understand.

"I love you too," Sherlock whispered and Johns eyes widened. His heart swelled suddenly, and his mind stuttered.

"You.. you what?" John swallowed, not taking his eyes off Sherlock.

"I love you too," Sherlock said again, except this time prouder and more full of love and compassion that he has ever felt.

"I love you so much John," He said.

And John was undone.

He grabbed his face, and slammed their lips together in a kiss of desire and need.

Need.

So much need. So much yearning.

Sherlock pressed back, and John slowly leaned back onto the floor with Sherlock on top of him.

And they kissed.

They kissed for what felt like forever.

Because thats how much they wanted it to last. For them to last.

Forever.

And forever they sha'll be.