There was no force on Earth that could make him let go of Sherlock in that moment it was good that Lexi didn't try. It wouldn't have gotten a single reaction. He was very much still in shock. This was just the calm before the storm. Any light that had once touched his eyes and face was simply gone left with empty despair. His fingertips brushed against Sherlock's coat as if he was trying to reach out for anything left. There was nothing of course. Sherlock might have been right that all that was left after death was the ground. John didn't know what he expected to find by holding him like that. Maybe some sort of hint that there was more, but he was met with nothing but silence and a chill.
His hand instinctively clutched Sherlock a little tighter as he felt Lexi's against the other. He tried to speak, but he found his voice didn't work. So for another long while all he could do was to stare. He couldn't move, he could barely even breathe. Finally he nodded and began to lift Sherlock with some effort. "I'll do it." Any warmth that had once been in his voice was just gone. He was a shell of the man he once was.
With Sherlock's body in his arms, he closed his eyes. "Nobody else touches him." He looked over at Lexi and then at the walk they had infront of them. A walk he'd now had to make without Sherlock for the rest of his life. He didn't even want to think about the rest of his life without Sherlock. Sherlock gave him purpose and a reason to wake up in the morning.
What was his reason now? How was he supposed to go on from there?