Unfortunately for me I don't own any of the characters from BBC's Sherlock :(
The One He Couldn't Save
Here I am again, once more standing over the ebony stone that has become so familiar in the last year. They think I'm going mad - They meaning Lestrade, Mycroft and Mrs. Hudson. I visit you every day. I don't want you to feel forgotten or left out. I tell you about everything that has changed in my life since you left. I tell you what happens at work, about the weather, anything really. I've been doing this for a long time now, all to avoid my final goodbye. Today is the day. I've decided to say that goodbye. I stand alone at your grave and begin to speak "It's been a year today, Sherlock. One year since you disappeared from my life. I've come to visit you every day of that year, Sherlock, and never once have I told you want I need you to hear. Mycroft once asked me what we could deduce about your heart and I didn't know. I still don't know, but I hope you feel the same way about me that I did- that I feel about you. I love you Sherlock and you knew that. You deduced it and I could see it in your eyes how much it hurt you to see me in danger. I wonder now if you felt the same way about me. I think you did but I could never be sure. I became a doctor to save people's lives, Sherlock. To protect them, to help them heal, to give them the opportunity to live and when a patient died I would save more to try and make up for the loss. Sherlock, I know you probably understand what I'm trying to say, but you were the most important. Of all the people I helped, you were the one who I couldn't save and you were the one person who I can never make up for losing. I'm sorry Sherlock. I'm sorry that you had to be the one I couldn't save." I let out a nervous chuckle "This is one of the few times you won't interrupt me." My eyes fill with tears that threaten to fall "Please interrupt me again Sherlock. Come back. Deduce and put me in danger. Make me feel alive again. Please stop me." I look down at the gun I have carried at my side as long as I can remember. It feels comfortingly warm in my hand, and I think of all the times I have tried to end my life, each time failing. I look at it and realise that now, for the first time I could do it. There is no one left to stop me. I raise the gun slowly to my head and take a deep breath "Goodbye Sherlock-or rather, hello again." I look down once more at the threatening stone as and close my eyes, my finger moving to squeeze the trigger. Behind me I hear a baritone voice call "John!" and something hits me from behind knocking me to the ground. I lie there for a moment before I have the courage to open my eyes. I find myself looking up at the familiar characteristics of Sherlock Holmes and I smile realizing vaguely that I must be dead. I feel dizzy I'm so deliriously happy and when I stand up I am only kept from falling by a strong arm wrapped around my shoulders. I look up at Sherlock as a car containing Mycroft and Lestrade pulls up and I realize that not only am I alive, but I could never have died. There was always one man who would have stopped me.