Say Something (JohnLock)

The flat had never felt as lonely as it did now. Without Sherlock everything felt wrong. I sat there for hours. The chair across from me, I could still see him. Maybe just... just an outline, but I could see him. Sitting with his violin, plucking the strings as he looked off into space in deep thought. God knows what he was thinking about. I tore my eyes from his chair and turned to the window. Again with his violin he stared into the streets of London. I really miss him. The thought of him follows me everywhere. I think everyday "don't be dead." thinking that some kind of miracle will bring him back.
Another outline of him stood in front of me, looking down at me with his piercing eyes. "damnit, Sherlock." I mumbled out loud. I followed with my eyes as he wondered about the flat. He soon took his seat in front of his microscope. Half the time I believed there wasn't even anything under it. He sometimes wouldn't talk for days on end, wouldn't eat. It worried me.
I walked to the microscope and just watched Sherlock. Tears began to form in my eyes as I remember. All the times I could recall him sitting there and ignoring his surroundings. All the times I hated him for ignoring me. I wish I could take back every bad thing I might have said to him. "Sherlock..." His small faded outline didn't look up at me. "Sherlock...? Say something... please." I felt myself completely consumed by my emotions. "Damn it, SAY SOMETHING!" I slammed my fist on the table which shook the glass instruments and knocked over a few. The outline looked up at me finally. Calmly as if I hadn't even said anything. "John." I heard his voice echoe in the back of my mind. "I'm not dead.".
It wasn't until I felt the heat of a hand press onto my shoulder that I realized those words weren't in the back of my head. They were behind me. Clear as day. I couldn't turn around. I just couldn't. I wanted so desperately to hide the tears that were finding there way down my cheeks and onto the floor. "No... You're... you're dead. I saw it happen. You can't." I couldn't believe anything that was happening to me. Sherlock, behind me. The man I saw jump off the top of a building. I checked his pulse and everything. "John..." I felt him force me to turn around. I did, and I crumbled in fear and sadness in front of him. My knees weakened and I fell to the floor. All I could do was look at him. "Fuck...". I couldn't wrap my mind around it.
Sherlock held his hand out to me. Reluctantly I took it. I was swiftly pulled up by him and without any warning, I was also pulled into a kiss. "Now stop crying. Let's get lunch, I'm starving." I somehow managed to get my head straight, assuming he would answer questions later "Yeah...Alright.".