Mary's Death

John turned away from Sherlock as his phone started to ring.
Sherlock.
It still sounded a bit odd, even just thinking about it. It had been two years since his… death.
John was still holding up the impression that he hadn't forgiven Sherlock, but the more time he spent with his friend, his best friend, the more he wanted to forgive him.
"Hello?" John said into the phone after glancing at the screen. UNKNOWN blinked back at him.
"Hello is this Doctor John Watson?" a woman's voice strung with worry said, John could bet her hands were shaking.
"Yes. Who's speaking?" John replied after a moment. The possibilities were already going through his mind. Hostage? Like what happened with Moriaty? Could this somehow be linked back to Sherlock's reappearance?
There was a fierce burning in his chest at the thought. He didn’t care if this was because Sherlock had returned; he was never letting him go again. Never.
"This is Doctor Stacy. I'm from St Bart’s Hospital; I've called to inform you of Mary Watson's death"
John went numb. His mind stopped. Everything and everyone fell away leaving a black pit of emptiness were he stood, right at the bottom.
He must have made some noise or movement, because a large hand came from the darkness and gripped his shoulder tightly

Sherlock

"John? What happened?"
The small voice pressed to his ear became noticeable again and John dully listened to it, feeling apart from the rest of the world.
"She was killed in a car accident at 9:46 this morning. The impact killed he instantly"
that was five minutes ago a cloudy thought drifted past, remembering the time on his phone
John's hand fell from his ear, the phone almost dropping from his fingers. But the army training stopped it from falling. It had been drilled into his head; don’t drop your weapon no matter the circumstance. Keep it in your hand, don’t let it fall.
He didn’t care that the woman was calling his name. He slowly pressed the hang up button, quelling the scratchy voice coming through the speaker.
The sound of London was no longer reaching his ears, the world had gone silent.

"John?"

A tiny voice cut through the silence and the black and suddenly Sherlock was there, standing in front of him, hands on his shoulders supporting John.

"What happened?"

John didn't answer. He slowly lowered his head to Sherlock's chest and the first of the tears started to come.

Sherlock stood still for a moment, shocked at the touch of his companion.
He slowly moved his arm around John's neck, already feeling the tears soak into his shirt.
Then it struck. Mary. Something had happened to Mary.
Seeing as how John wasn't rushing to her aid, she was most likely…
Sherlock's other hand came up to clutch his other shoulder, drawing John in tighter.
He felt John's hand coil into his jacket, clutching it and almost painfully twisting it around Sherlock's body.
But the pain didn’t matter to him.
The pain his closest friend, his only friend was feeling was much worse.

"I'm sorry john" he whispered, "So, so sorry"