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After the Rechinbach fall, after Sherlock had returned, after Mary,after the whole mess,even if it took far too long...Sherlock and John had realised their love for each other and fallen into a happy,domestic life (along with the cases ofcourse) with Rosie in tow.
Sherlock and John raised Rosie into a sweet, wonderful woman, who later found love and got married.
The detective and his doctor grew old with time, their strong, agile bodies growing delicate with age, Sherlock's sharp mind softening at the edges, John's desire for adventure slowly turning into a desire for peace, a slower, more settled life, so, they retired to Sussex happily but no matter how much of a genius Sherlock is and how brave of a soldier John is, time always wins and no one can escape death.
They die peacefully, putting a end to their chapter, a reprive from their chaos driven past, their graves lying side by side, Sherlock Holmes and John Waston's names etched into history.
The Universe remained indifferent and moved on.
A millenium passes
London changes
The city now unrecognisably shaped with time, it's history digitized, now built with metal, glass and digital algorithms, it's citizens living and breathing technology.
The place that used to be called Baker Street, was now a relic of the past, it's old pictures found in historic digi-logs,the place dismantled and remodeled into a prestigious University of meta-medicine, housing doctors and medical residents trained to work with advanced technology to save and even create lives.
John was lucky enough to build a career within the prestine campus.
He made good friends, excelled in academics, was considered a model student and life was the same, mundane, rinse and repeat.
But then in his senior year, John heard the rumors.
Rumors of an old building—from the 21st century being found within the University campus, somewhere in the staff garden, a relic of the past,hidden and locked away.
John had grown curious, had even joked about sneaking in with his friends just to find out if it was true, he laughed along with them as they made plans about sneaking out for fun but knew they wouldn't actually act on it but Curiosity gave way to need and need solidified to want.
John had become obsessed with something that he wasn't even sure existed to begin with.
But John was nothing short of determined.
He really wanted to uncover the truth for himself.
So he mapped out every security blindspot, rumoured pathways,spent his lunch breaks sneaking around the campus alone and assessing said pathways, he had traced and retraced his steps for months and finally decided to act on his plan.
So, despite his parents' protests, he stayed back that summer, made up some excuse about wanting to attend some remedial classes.
And now, he had managed to find his way to the staff garden, looking around, feeling the walls for any irregularities, some secret pathway maybe?
After what felt like an eternity, John finally found an old door, hiding behind overgrown moss and twining ivy, the door was different from the metal, automated ones John has seen throughout his childhood, it was wooden, black and old with time, it's metal handle rusted.
And etched upon it, worn with time was the lettering:
221B
a weird feeling settled into John's gut.
Still, he tried to open the door, which was obviously locked, John let out a steady exhale, the wood was old and weak, so with a firm push from his shoulder, the old thing splintered and gave way to an empty staircase.
The air inside was stale, musty, cobwebs hanging around, the place undoubtedly infested with insects and pesticides.
Yet, John felt that feeling grow in his gut.
He noticed another door adjacent to the staircase.
Maybe he should check that out first.
But John was more drawn to whatever that was up there.
So he made his way up the old stairs, the wooden steps creaking and groaning against John's weight, as if protesting that no one should be using it anymore.
John prayed that it won't actually give away under his weight, because if he were to limp around the campus, it would surely raise a few eyebrows,injuries were a no no.
John had counted the steps while going up.
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen—!
and another locked door, John had opened it just as easily, the door gave way to what could be considered a living room, completely empty, in a similar state as the place's—221B's landing.
Old, empty, musty smelling, filled with cobwebs and insects alike.
Despite it's dreary state, John felt something bittersweet settle in his chest, a sense of belonging, like he had been here before, like he had spent a lifetime here, this feeling felt closer to nostalgia.
Nostalgia over what?
John couldn't quite put a finger on it.
But John wanted to understand what made him feel like this.
So with steady hands, he pulled out a metal orb from his pocket, it's smooth surface disturbed with ridges, it was a Time finder.
An advanced forensic and archeological tool, used by Scientists, Criminologists and Archeologists alike, people who were given the green light by the government to use them under proper supervision, it scans the surrounding areas it is placed on to find traces of human activities that took place near or farther in the past and re-creates it, it's not always accurate, but it's enough to give you a basic idea of the past events.
How did John get his hands on it?
Well...his father was an archeologist and John,while packing away for his life at the University, had seen it lying around in his father's home office and though—
Why not?
so he nicked it.
His father is still confused as to where it has disappeared.
And John had finally decided to use it during his final year in University.
Since it was a one-shot kinda thing, he wanted to save it for something important.
This seemed important enough.
John placed the metal orb onto the dusty floor and after a minute of scanning the room, the orb's hatches click open, it hissed, letting out artificial steam as a pulsing blue light enveloped the surrounding area and then—!
The past bloomed to life around John.
The dreary old flat with it's cobwebs and dust melting from John's sight,the place was warm, vibrant, the dark wooden floor gleamed under the fire-light, the bookshelf filled to the brim with books, (John had only seen paper books in photos) the furniture seems to have been pushed back to make space for some activity,a violin rested against a well-worn—was that an armchair? And the ancient furnace filled the place with warmth as it crackled with fire.
John looked delighted—so this is what houses in the 21st century looked like.
John looked around, drinking in his surroundings, trying to etch everything into memory.
He should have bought his *Halo to capture this—!
He heard humming—
Soft, melodic, joyful humming.
John turned
And froze
he saw a man standing in the middle of the room, humming and happily twirling about the cleared space, his moves balletic, ebony curls bouncing with each movement, sharp cheekbones highlighted by firelight.
John felt his breath hitch.
He was beautiful.
Dressed in century old garments, a crisp plum coloured button up and fitted trousers, so archaic by modern standards but still looked...wonderful on him.
The man twirled once more and turned to John, his eyes—were they blue? green?—They were brilliant, prismatic, the man's eyes locked with John's.
And he smiled.
Warm, soft, breathtaking.
The man raised an elegant hand, palm facing upwards in an offer, plump lips parting to ask a question—?
"Dance with me?"
John's heart almost stopped.
He took a step forward towards that beautiful creature, hands itching to reach, John raised his own hand to take that man's offered hand and suddenly—
Something passes through him.
And as John saw someone else taking that man's hand, he finally came back to his senses.
Right—it's just an hologram.
Then why does he feel so bitter?
"Sure, Love"
John is startled as he sees the face of the other figure, a much shorter man, holding himself with confidence,pewter-grey hair falling over his face, cerulean blue eyes eerily similar to John's very own.
The couple danced around the room, the taller man, moving with grace while the other slightly stumbled, eliciting a melodic laugh from the ebony haired man.
The shorter man looked fond, very much in love.
Who was he?
Did John stumble upon the past of one of his ancestors?
Well, that man looked eerily similar to himself, even his build, albeit he looked much older.
Or was he....?
Was he John's past self?
Was that really possible? Science still cannot prove that a soul even exists, so the concept of humans having past lives is out of the question.
But John wanted to believe otherwise.
John's eyes were fixed on the taller man,the way he moved, laughed, glowed under the firelight, he had never seen someone so beautiful, so—!
The scene fizzled out.
The hatches clicked shut, the blue light emitting from the orb faded.
The light around John flickered and died, along with the images of those two figures, the room once again, became a dull, lifeless, shell of what it once was.
And John stood there motionless, staring at the empty space where he had seen them both dance, consumed by sadness,yearning,jealousy even, if that man there was really him from the past—
Then he had really shared a happy life with that beautiful man.
Had John just fallen in love with a ghost?
A deep, aching grief coiled around his chest.
He wished
He wished—
That he atleast knew that man's name, the one who was dancing so gracefully, porcelain skin glowing under the firelight.
And he wished more than anything—
That he'd be able to find that man in this life too.
END