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I sat down in the armchair just like every other day. The telly was on and my eyes were pointed at it but I wasn't watching. I had no idea what was on, no idea what was said and no idea which channel I was watching. I didn't even remember putting it on. I just stared at it. A firetruck passed outside. I heared the noise it made but I didn't realize it. I didn't automaticly connect it to the need of a fire somewhere because otherwise it wouldn't drive past with the sirens on. It just was there and then it wasn't anymore.
The door bell rang. I knew I should have stood up to open the door but I didn't. I didn't move, I didn't even blink. I heared the noise of a key turning in the lock and the door opening. A man came in and appeared in my sight. "John." the man greeted me. I raised my head and looked at the mans face. I recognized him. "Greg." I said. My voice sounded empty, I didn't use it for a while. Lestrade walked to the windows and opened the curtains. The roomed was suddenly filled with daylight. It hurted my eyes a little but I didn't blink to get used to it quicker. "John, you should go out sometimes, do something, live. Do you think Sherlock would have wanted this for you?" Lestrade said. The sound of Sherlocks name reechoed in my head. Sherlock. "Sherlock isn't here anymore." I said. "Well I am here and I don't want you to be like this either. Mrs. Hudson, Molly, even Mycroft hate it to see you like this! Sherlock-" "Sherlock is gone!!" I exclaimed. Tears welled up in my eyes and I fought against them. Lestrade sat down in the armchair in front of me. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shouted at you." I apologized out of politeness. I didn't mean a word from it and he knew it. I wanted to shout at him until my voice was so hoarse I couldn't even whisper anymore, and he knew it. He knew the pain I felt in my chest everytime I heard Sherlocks name, the trouble I had standing up in the morning because I couldn't think of a reason why I should and the incomprehension, the burning incomprehension. "You don't have to apologize. You never have to." Lestrade said. I looked him in the eyes and removed the solid walls in my mind, showing him the pain in my eyes. "I just miss him, I miss him so much." I whispered. A tear dripped down my cheek. "We all do." Lestrade said full of compassion. I nodded. "I know, but it's just so..." I couldn't find to words to describe it. "I don't understand it. The only thing I can come up with is Moriarty. Of course it was Moriartys fault, but how could he do such thing? Sherlock is the most genious, most incredible man the world has ever known and Moriarty had found a way to make him commit suicide." I said. Lestrade didn't say anything for a couple of minutes. "Sherlock must have done what he thought was best for everybody." Lestrade said carefully. He stood up and straigtened his coat. "I'm going to get some coffee, would you like to come with me?" he asked. I sighed. "Alright, coffee."