Chapter Text
John couldn’t believe it. Sherlock wasn’t dead and all because of his stupid power to see ghosts. No ghost at first, but that was pretty common. It became a problem six months later when John waited and waited for a certain ghost to come around.
At first, he figured that Sherlock might’ve passed on already, but it didn’t make sense when a ghost had whispered to him “Sherlock Holmes lives.”
So here John was, waiting outside of Mycrofts office, arms crossed and very pissed off at Sherlock. He grew tired of waiting and opened the office door.
“Ah, Dr. Watson.” Mycroft didn’t look up from what he was doing.
“Where is Sherlock, Mycroft?” His voice is flat and hard, leaving no room for bullshit. Mycroft looked up from what he was doing, and an eyebrow was raised.
“Dr. Watson, you know very well that Sherlock is dead-”
“Don’t bullshit me, Mycroft. He’s not dead.”
A pause, then “How did you know?”
John considered lying, but he’d always been a shit liar, so he told the truth. Mycroft took it gracefully, but John knew he would be interrogated about it later. He was told to wait until Moriarty’s web was taken down.
“I will let you know, Dr. Watson.”
Bullshit, and they both know it.
The ghosts will tell him. They always do.