Author: MonkeyBard
Rating: PG
Summary: John after Sherlock's fall.
Date: 6 July 2013
Prompt: Poem prompt: Futility, by Wilfred Owen
A/N: The fic is inspired by a poem, but titled from a completely unrelated song. Welcome to my brain.

They wouldn't let him see the body. 'No need,' they said. The whole of London could have identified it. At least forty saw it fall. John was one of them.

The world slowed and spun. He felt dizzy with shock, with panic, with disbelief. He ran, stumbled, and fell.

"He was my friend!"

No one listened. Hands pulled and pushed. Keeping him out. Keeping him away.

"Please!"

Someone from Mycroft's office drove him home and told him to stay put. Like an errant child. Tantamount to house arrest.

Mrs. Hudson wept quietly and made tea that neither of them drank.

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