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Description
Something ain't going on...

John would go out sometimes when his thoughts wouldn't leave him alone.
Sometimes he would go out for a walk in the park, and sometimes he would get together with Mike or Greg and they'd go out to have something to drink.
Other times he would go out to a bar or a club, alone. He'd sit in a corner, but he didn't drink, and he wasn't looking for a date. He would just to watch. People having fun, smiling, happy. Girls crossing the room to meet with the boys they were waiting for, maybe boys they've only just met. Groups of friends talking and laughing.
There were times John wondered why he came to places like this alone. Happy place were couples and friends just enjoyed each other's company. But there he would be letting his mind wander off where it wanted to. Thinking of what it would be like to come here and wait, and then there would be the person he was looking for, standing across the room. He would have a mischievous smile on his face as their eyes met and walk towards him.
Sometimes while just watching John would catch a glimpse of a tall figure with dark and messy curls. His heart rate would increase as the person walked about the room. It was never him. Never the one he was looking for. And when it was confirmed, the once racing heart would rise up into his throat.
Still John sat there, waiting for nothing. He'd allow himself to fall apart inside, as he watched lovers and friends together, until he felt exhausted enough to go home and sleep. Whether his dreams allowed him to escape reality or not was not in his control.
At night, he would have nightmares, tossing and turning, begging, "No. Don't. Sherlock!" Sometimes he'd cry out ad wake himself with a start, drenching in sweat and tears. It would be then that he would lie down and sob into his pillow asking it, 'Why'd he leave?' 'I don't want to be alone…' 'Why'd he have to go?' Sure enough, he'd fall asleep again as the sounds outside rang throughout the darkness of his room. He could swear, somewhere in all that noise, there was a violin's song being played. Just trying to concentrate enough to hear it would lull him back to sleep.

He brought the song to a gentle close as he monitored the time. 15 minutes. A long day. "That would make two of us, doctor." Sherlock put the violin away. It wasn't the one from his home in 221B, but it would have to do for nights like this when he would find his doctor sitting in a corner table of certain clubs and bars. By the look of it, John didn't get as much sleep as he should.
The first time Sherlock found out about the John's people watching was when he too, visited one for the sake of cooling off after bringing down another of Moriary's henchmen. He nearly froze when he felt someone staring at him and turned back to see none other than Dr. John Watson looking in his direction. He thought he was caught and all his plans until now were going to fall apart right in front of him. But as he wondered what John would do to him now that he knew he was still alive, Johns gaze shifted off to another side of the room. Sherlock took the chance to change his location, more hidden from view. That's when he found John's distraction. Male. 5'10". Fit. Recently married. He turned back to John who was now looking in another direction. Female. 5'8". Married, 2 years. Pregnant. Got together with friends to celebrate. No alcohol. Planned pregnancy. Sherlocks brow creased, 'Why would John have an interest in any of these people?' That's when he noticed John's face, it scanned the crowd to different people. Males, females, recently divorced, just gotten together, cheaters, drunks. There was no pattern. Except for the look he would get after he'd given up. That's when Sherlock took one more look around. And there it was, the pattern. Dark curls. Whether it was long, short, natural or tied up. They all had dark curls. John wan't interested in them, but their hair, the kind of hair that reminded John of Sherlock's.
That was the night he found out John had nightmares and sometimes couldn't sleep at all. He heard John call for him in his sleep, and he had to stop himself from banging on the door or the window (and of course, just picking the lock). He wanted to see him, not from across the bar, but in front of him. He wanted to apologize. Really apologize for faking his death. He wanted to sit down and just tell him everything he's been working on. But he knew he couldn't do that. So one day he obtained a decent violin and he fixed and tuned it while working on another part of his plan.
As soon as the violin was ready, so was he. It took another few weeks to finish what needed to be done, but once it was over he visited the same bar, hoping John would appear, and sure enough, he did. Sherlock watched from afar and waited until John exhausted himself enough to go home. Sherlock didn't follow but they eventually ended up in the same area. John in his room and Sherlock on the roof of the building, finding it amusing that a roof is what began all this.
He waited patiently and eventually heard the first signs that John was having a nightmare. Then the cry of him waking up. It's time. Sherlock got into position and began to play a gentle melody. Loud enough to be heard, but soft enough to be mixed in with the sounds of the streets. He closed his eyes as he played and he could almost see John lying in bed. The tears drying, his breath calming to a normal breathing pattern, his forehead creasing as he tried to make out the sound of the violin. And soon, he was asleep.

John notices that the nights he thinks he hears a violin, he's able to sleep without waking up for the rest of the night. As though just the thought of it calms him enough to sleep. Picturing Sherlock on the streets, on a balcony, or as an idiotic thought, a roof, playing his violin for him. He smiles to himself thinking that maybe somewhere 'up there', Sherlock is watching out for him. And the need to go on lonely trips to the bar settles down until he doesn't go. He still hears the violin at night sometimes when nightmares come, and sure enough, he's sleeping again, listening to a song he pretends is for him.

Oh, Doctor John
What am I doing? What am I doing wrong?
Cuz I keep on trying
Something ain't going, Something ain't going on

You say I'm a big heartbreaker
But Doctor I'd never hurt ya
Isnt' it obvious?

-Dr. John by MIKA

SO! While listening to Dr. John by MIKA (my musical obsession at the moment) I was (obviously) thinking about Sherlock (When don't I anymore?) and I thought to myself "John's name is John.... He's a Doctor.... OH MY--" and so drawing started.
To be honest... This is not exactly the story that goes with the picture I drew it for. The actually story that I thought up was a lot more depressing because it has to do with 2 (maybe 3) other songs, that starts with John running away from his feeling after Sherlock 'died', actually thinking about suicide (maybe an overdose, maybe actually attempting), getting saved by Greg (maybe with the help of Mrs. Hudson). This picture was only the beginning of this crazy wacked out dream John ends up having (my mind make music videos, and it's too much to try and describe). He later comes to terms with loss and depression. Still holding on to Sherlock, he tries to at least keep trying, and one day after holding on for so long, he comes back.
Then when I think about it Sherlock has his own little set of songs...

Anyways... Enjoy?

Comment?

Other Sherlock art and comics (kiddy!lock included): [link]

Tumblr: [link]

Made with a variety of pencils and edited slightly on Photoshop Elements.

Description
Something ain't going on...

John would go out sometimes when his thoughts wouldn't leave him alone.
Sometimes he would go out for a walk in the park, and sometimes he would get together with Mike or Greg and they'd go out to have something to drink.
Other times he would go out to a bar or a club, alone. He'd sit in a corner, but he didn't drink, and he wasn't looking for a date. He would just to watch. People having fun, smiling, happy. Girls crossing the room to meet with the boys they were waiting for, maybe boys they've only just met. Groups of friends talking and laughing.
There were times John wondered why he came to places like this alone. Happy place were couples and friends just enjoyed each other's company. But there he would be letting his mind wander off where it wanted to. Thinking of what it would be like to come here and wait, and then there would be the person he was looking for, standing across the room. He would have a mischievous smile on his face as their eyes met and walk towards him.
Sometimes while just watching John would catch a glimpse of a tall figure with dark and messy curls. His heart rate would increase as the person walked about the room. It was never him. Never the one he was looking for. And when it was confirmed, the once racing heart would rise up into his throat.
Still John sat there, waiting for nothing. He'd allow himself to fall apart inside, as he watched lovers and friends together, until he felt exhausted enough to go home and sleep. Whether his dreams allowed him to escape reality or not was not in his control.
At night, he would have nightmares, tossing and turning, begging, "No. Don't. Sherlock!" Sometimes he'd cry out ad wake himself with a start, drenching in sweat and tears. It would be then that he would lie down and sob into his pillow asking it, 'Why'd he leave?' 'I don't want to be alone…' 'Why'd he have to go?' Sure enough, he'd fall asleep again as the sounds outside rang throughout the darkness of his room. He could swear, somewhere in all that noise, there was a violin's song being played. Just trying to concentrate enough to hear it would lull him back to sleep.

He brought the song to a gentle close as he monitored the time. 15 minutes. A long day. "That would make two of us, doctor." Sherlock put the violin away. It wasn't the one from his home in 221B, but it would have to do for nights like this when he would find his doctor sitting in a corner table of certain clubs and bars. By the look of it, John didn't get as much sleep as he should.
The first time Sherlock found out about the John's people watching was when he too, visited one for the sake of cooling off after bringing down another of Moriary's henchmen. He nearly froze when he felt someone staring at him and turned back to see none other than Dr. John Watson looking in his direction. He thought he was caught and all his plans until now were going to fall apart right in front of him. But as he wondered what John would do to him now that he knew he was still alive, Johns gaze shifted off to another side of the room. Sherlock took the chance to change his location, more hidden from view. That's when he found John's distraction. Male. 5'10". Fit. Recently married. He turned back to John who was now looking in another direction. Female. 5'8". Married, 2 years. Pregnant. Got together with friends to celebrate. No alcohol. Planned pregnancy. Sherlocks brow creased, 'Why would John have an interest in any of these people?' That's when he noticed John's face, it scanned the crowd to different people. Males, females, recently divorced, just gotten together, cheaters, drunks. There was no pattern. Except for the look he would get after he'd given up. That's when Sherlock took one more look around. And there it was, the pattern. Dark curls. Whether it was long, short, natural or tied up. They all had dark curls. John wan't interested in them, but their hair, the kind of hair that reminded John of Sherlock's.
That was the night he found out John had nightmares and sometimes couldn't sleep at all. He heard John call for him in his sleep, and he had to stop himself from banging on the door or the window (and of course, just picking the lock). He wanted to see him, not from across the bar, but in front of him. He wanted to apologize. Really apologize for faking his death. He wanted to sit down and just tell him everything he's been working on. But he knew he couldn't do that. So one day he obtained a decent violin and he fixed and tuned it while working on another part of his plan.
As soon as the violin was ready, so was he. It took another few weeks to finish what needed to be done, but once it was over he visited the same bar, hoping John would appear, and sure enough, he did. Sherlock watched from afar and waited until John exhausted himself enough to go home. Sherlock didn't follow but they eventually ended up in the same area. John in his room and Sherlock on the roof of the building, finding it amusing that a roof is what began all this.
He waited patiently and eventually heard the first signs that John was having a nightmare. Then the cry of him waking up. It's time. Sherlock got into position and began to play a gentle melody. Loud enough to be heard, but soft enough to be mixed in with the sounds of the streets. He closed his eyes as he played and he could almost see John lying in bed. The tears drying, his breath calming to a normal breathing pattern, his forehead creasing as he tried to make out the sound of the violin. And soon, he was asleep.

John notices that the nights he thinks he hears a violin, he's able to sleep without waking up for the rest of the night. As though just the thought of it calms him enough to sleep. Picturing Sherlock on the streets, on a balcony, or as an idiotic thought, a roof, playing his violin for him. He smiles to himself thinking that maybe somewhere 'up there', Sherlock is watching out for him. And the need to go on lonely trips to the bar settles down until he doesn't go. He still hears the violin at night sometimes when nightmares come, and sure enough, he's sleeping again, listening to a song he pretends is for him.

Oh, Doctor John
What am I doing? What am I doing wrong?
Cuz I keep on trying
Something ain't going, Something ain't going on

You say I'm a big heartbreaker
But Doctor I'd never hurt ya
Isnt' it obvious?

-Dr. John by MIKA

SO! While listening to Dr. John by MIKA (my musical obsession at the moment) I was (obviously) thinking about Sherlock (When don't I anymore?) and I thought to myself "John's name is John.... He's a Doctor.... OH MY--" and so drawing started.
To be honest... This is not exactly the story that goes with the picture I drew it for. The actually story that I thought up was a lot more depressing because it has to do with 2 (maybe 3) other songs, that starts with John running away from his feeling after Sherlock 'died', actually thinking about suicide (maybe an overdose, maybe actually attempting), getting saved by Greg (maybe with the help of Mrs. Hudson). This picture was only the beginning of this crazy wacked out dream John ends up having (my mind make music videos, and it's too much to try and describe). He later comes to terms with loss and depression. Still holding on to Sherlock, he tries to at least keep trying, and one day after holding on for so long, he comes back.
Then when I think about it Sherlock has his own little set of songs...

Anyways... Enjoy?

Comment?

Other Sherlock art and comics (kiddy!lock included): [link]

Tumblr: [link]

Made with a variety of pencils and edited slightly on Photoshop Elements.