Angst. So much angst. I honestly don't know what drove me into writing this...

I'm kinda suffering from a writing block on my other fic and needed a valve.

This is a post-reichenbach one shot written from Johns POV. Trigger Warnings: Major Character Death

Limbo

lim·bo

n. pl. lim·bos

1. A region or condition of oblivion or neglect

2. A state or place of confinement.

3. An intermediate place or state.

(source: thefreedictionary limbo)

It happened so fast. I can barely recall how I ended up here. It's like someone stopped the world from turning and everything went numb.

It happened too fast. I somehow felt that something was off with this case when we stormed out the door this afternoon. I told him to be careful. I told him to wait for me. Now I'm cradling his head, kneeling in a dark alleyway. The sky is falling down on us. I can't distinguish between tears and the rain on my face anymore. I don't know if he's crying, too.

Too fast. The last thing I remember is whirling around to see him fall. Again. There is blood all over him, probably all over me, too. My throat hurts from shouting. I don't hear what I'm shouting for anymore. There is only silence in my head. I remember calling Lestrade, asking for an ambulance. I remember yelling at him, to hurry up. That was what feels like hours ago. My fingers went numb from pressing onto the wound. His scarf is soaked in crimson liquid. "John." I've never heard his voice so hoarse and thin. "Just hang on. They're almost here.", I'm surprised by how calm I sound. His hand grasps at my jacket. I can see how he's struggling. I take his pulse and feel it getting weaker with each beat. The bullet hit him good, missed the heart but didn't fail to damage. The doctor inside me knows how this is going to end, but I'm not ready yet. I hold him tight, wishing I'd wake up any second now. Wishing he'd finally stop acting and jump up to chase after the gunman. Whishing he'd tell me to get up and quit weeping. But I can't, I can't make it stop. Because a part of my mind has come to realise that he's leaving me. For good. And that part of me has realised that there is nothing at all that I can do to make it stop. I am helpless, drifting in the middle of the ocean. I watch how his eyes flutter, his jaw and lips working, trying to form words. If I'd still be sane I propably wouldn't have mistaken it for him trying to tell me that he loves me. Because I do. I love him with all my heart, for everything he was and everything he gave me, and I'm not willing to let go yet. Not again and not for good. At this point I don't care about my selfishness. I want to rewind time. I want to be selfish and keep this from happening. I want to be selfish and keep me from meeting Sherlock Holmes. I want the world to explode and take everyone, including myself, with him rather than have him ripped away from me. "Sherlock-" Is all I manage. His name is ringing inside my head. My body hurts. My hands from gripping too tight and my head from crying. I'm not opening my eyes but I know that he's looking at me. To hell with it. To hell with everything. I feel his body go limp in my arms. I'm still not opening my eyes but I can hear sirens and voices calling from what seems like the other end of the world. My muscles hurt. Bright lights flicker through my eyelids. My senses go numb. My mind shuts off. I don't want to feel.

I fall into oblivion and decide to stay in limbo.