A/N: Underlined things mean John has crossed them out!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters - they belong to the BBC, Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat. And of course Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, without whom this would never have become the amazing fandom it is today!
Please review! It would mean a lot! This is my first fanfic up here! Thank you! xoxo
Dear Sherlock,
Hey,
You prick,
Sherlock Holmes,
To Sherlock,
Sherlock,
Ella told me to write this letter. I know there are things I didn't say to you when I should have, but you're never going to read this so I don't how it will work. I don't see how anything will work ever again. Not without you. Not now.
I haven't been able to find the strength to get out of bed in the mornings lately. You used to give me that strength. It often gets to 4pm and I'm still lying there in my pyjamas. It's like I'm turning into you – at least that way you'd never be gone. Never. But no one's good enough to replace you. No one but you.
I miss you, Sherlock. And it hurts like hell. No – worse than hell. Invading Afghanistan didn't hurt this much. Getting shot in the shoulder didn't hurt this much. Being covered in Semtex didn't hurt this much.
You're a prick, you know that?! I hate you. I hate you more than you hated Anderson. I hate you more than I hate seeing Mrs Hudson in pain. I hate you more than I hate Mycroft. But no one could ever hate you. No. You're too beautiful. The way your whole face lights up when we get a new case; it just takes my breath away. The way your hair looks when you've just woken up. I love that. I love the way you turn your collar up to look all cool and mysterious. I love the way you always know what you want. I love the way you rang me in those last few moments of your precious life. I love the way you make my heart melt and my stomach flutter. I love that.
I love you. I should've said it. I was scared of your reaction, scared of losing you – that's why I didn't. I supposed that doesn't matter anymore. You don't know how much it hurt to not be able to say that I love you, Sherlock. I. Love. YOU. I want nothing more than to be with you. Forever. I keep searching for a way to be close to you again, a way to find you, ever since you've been gone.
I was so alone, for so long, and I owe you so much!
I wish you'd known.
Yours sincerely,
Yours faithfully,
Yours truly,
Lots of love,
Dr John H. Watson
xxx
Always yours
P.S. You gave me strength today; I managed to get out of bed today. I managed to return to Barts for the first time too. I'll be with you soon enough, love.
P.P.S. I've stopped searching.
