A/N: Hello! I'm back. This is a little piece I wrote based on Laura Marling's song Cross Your Fingers, which I first heard the other day, and it really reminded me of the pool scene in TGG, which is the setting for this. There's also a line from an ee cummings poem, somewhere i have never travelled, which I'm in love with. The end will probably make more sense if you take this scene as being more like Reichenbach, as I am casually ignoring the fact that that story's in the next series.
(Also, I might do something based on Night Terrors, another Marling track. Thoughts?)
Thanks for reading, please feel free to review! =]
(I'm not making any money from this, sadly, etc., etc.)
Cross your fingers, hold your toes; we're all going to die when the building blows.
I'm sorry, John, he thinks. I'm sorry that you will end up dying here, with me, rather than in forty years' time, with a wife and children and grandchildren by your side. Instead, you're going to be blown to smithereens and Mycroft will patch it up and call it a gas explosion, and send your parents and your sister his condolences. Although of course it will be someone else's writing, someone else's words, someone else's pity.
I'm sorry you escaped Afghanistan just to die here only a few months later. You saved people here in the city, and you saved people out there, in the desert. A country I have never seen, and never will. (somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond.) You saved me, when you barely knew me.
Maybe you wouldn't have wanted to save me, had you known me.
I'm sorry that I'll disappear now. That, if you do survive (unlikely, but so is everything else about the both of us) I will be absent from your life for however long it takes for me to track down Moriarty's men and destroy every single one of them.
I'm sorry that I'll return, and expect you to welcome me back with open arms. I know I won't deserve any of it.
But I'm not sorry I met you, that day at Bart's. I'm not sorry at all.